Tuesday, April 21, 2015

"I Hate That Shirt"

Just when you get used to things being one way, they change all over again.

Like every night when we say bedtime prayers..  Our prayer goes like this:  "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to the Lord my soul to keep.  Keep me safely through the night, wake me when it's morning light. Amen."  We've memorized and recited that prayer nightly for many years.  Until the other night... 

Little-Miss-Independent paused before saying the "Amen" part, and she asked this:  "why in the world do we say 'wake me when it's morning light,' because when I wake up it's always dark?!"

I was speechless.  Had no answer for the 6-year old.

It's just what we do. It's what we've always done.   (I'm not ready for these questions)

Then, the other night we were at my friend's new, amazing restaurant Heights Taco & Tamale Co., and I was wearing jeans, sandals, and a grey Grateful Dead t-shirt (because despite my day-job, anyone who knows me knows I'm an old dead-head hippie at heart).  Well, my son had something to say about it. 

"I hate that shirt."

Okay since when did he have an opinion or even care what I'm wearing.   He's 8. 

Um, why, I ask?

"It's just ugly.  And it's not something moms should be wearing."

The banter went on... something about him cutting it up with scissors later in the night when I take it off.  He told his dad that moms should not be wearing things with skulls on them. 

About this time, the Dead's "Touch of Grey" began playing in the restaurant.  No joke, and had my friend Lee Edwards not reminded me of this, I would've forgotten.  Oh, the irony.  Or just a coincidence?

Anyway, I'm asking myself at this point if I should I dress like a nun in habit?!

I guess the point is:  it had been such a nice run of a couple years, with them repeating what I tell them to repeat; loving everything about their momma; and implicitly trusting everything mom says and does and even wears.  Now, they're asking questions about what they're asked to repeat.  And their brains are working, as they decipher their own likes and dislikes. 

I don't want it any other way.  I love every step, every stage of this journey.  I feel so privileged to be their mom and to watch it all unfold.  This is just another change, and when I get used to it, it'll all change again.  I hope I can accept every shift with grace...  In the meantime, I'm hiding the scissors.

Me (left) wearing the shirt in question with Ben Brainard & Sarah Fortner

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

First-name basis.....

So this happened.

I politely asked "little-miss-six-year-old-going-on-thirteen" to please pick up her room and make her bed.  Not a huge request, right?

About thirty minutes passed, and I heard happy girl screams outside on the trampoline.  I nicely asked girl-child to please come inside for a moment, which she did.  I figured she had possibly not completed the task I asked of her.

"Did you pick up your room like I asked, sweetie?"

"Yes, DAWN SCOTT, I did!" she replied, with a half-smile and slightly wicked look in her eyes.

Wait, what?  (I can't imagine what my face looked like at this point).  Dawn Scottdawn scott?  DAWN SCOTT??  What the whaaaaaaa

What elementary school-aged child calls their parent by their first name?

"Excuse me?" I asked. (trying not to laugh, trying not to show the seething upset within, trying to understand this new disrespect - or understand if it even was disrespect).

"I even made my bed like you asked, DAWN!"

At that point, boy-child chuckled, and then that chuckle made her laugh-out-loud, and then it turned into full-on roaring with each chiming in, "dawn scott, haha," "dawn scott!"

How does this happen?  Since when is it acceptable to call a parent by their first name?  And are they really serious, or was this just a joke to take my temperature and see how I might react?

I really didn't react at all.  I simply said, "Funny.  Aren't you two just full of it?"  Figuring that not making it a big deal may be the best route to take. 

Then I read an article in the Wall Street Journal, which basically says calling mom or dad by their first name basically means parents are ceding authority to their children.  In other words, it's an attempt by a child to gain the upper-hand. 

I certainly hope that's not the case with my two littles, and I'll just chalk this up as one tiny hiccup as they test the waters of independence from momma.  For now, I'm demanding "yes, ma'am," "yes, sir," "no, ma'am," "no, sir."  And "MOM."