Big Mistake
I executed a grave parenting error on Sunday afternoon, and I'm hoping you can learn from my mistakes.
Let me set the stage. That afternoon, I had wandered into the twins' room to find something. I can't remember what that something was, because as soon as I placed one foot in the room, a wave of disgust rolled over me. Their room rivaled a disaster site: dirty socks hid under the bed, clean clothes lounged on the chair, wrappers stuck to the corners, and toys...well, those toys lay just about everywhere.
"My goodness," I said.
"This is bad. Really bad," Melina said. She'd followed me up the stairs because whatever it was I needed to find just happened to be hers.
"You're telling me." I pushed a few items around in an effort to out the piece I was looking for. No such luck.
"Zoe and Talia sure are messy, Mom." Melina stated the obvious in her usual style: hands on hips, eyebrows cocked, with all the wisdom of an adult, not a six-year-old first grader.
"That they are." I spun around in place, hoping to settle my eyes on at least one piece of decluttered dresser or carpet. I found nothing. Inside, I wept. How could these girls be like this? How could they live in such filth, such disarray? How did the sheer volume of things on their floor not overwhelm them on a daily basis? I shook my head.
And then, I made my mistake.
"You know what Melina?" I said. "If these girls can't keep their room clean, I'm going to put you in here and give them your room."
Melina's hazel eyes grew wide and a mischievous smile spread across her face. She tilted her head to the right and glanced up to the left. I half-expected to see a thought bubble appear in the air. Instead, she whispered, "Is their room bigger than mine?"
"Yes, it is."
Later that afternoon, after I'd mentioned to the girls that something (anything really) had to be done about their room, Melina set up shop on the kitchen floor and planned out her new room.
"I'm drawing a model, Mommy," she said. "This new room is going to be great."
And each morning since then, the first words out of her mouth are: am I getting Zoe and Talia's room today?
I'll be honest. I have no intention of cramming two soon-to-be teenagers into a smaller room with a tiny closet. While having to share that space would certainly teach them a lesson, I'm certain that new, unexpected consequences would arise. Ones that impact me more than any of the girls.
And so, I've learned my lesson. Either get a filter, or keep my mouth shut.
Let me set the stage. That afternoon, I had wandered into the twins' room to find something. I can't remember what that something was, because as soon as I placed one foot in the room, a wave of disgust rolled over me. Their room rivaled a disaster site: dirty socks hid under the bed, clean clothes lounged on the chair, wrappers stuck to the corners, and toys...well, those toys lay just about everywhere.
"My goodness," I said.
"This is bad. Really bad," Melina said. She'd followed me up the stairs because whatever it was I needed to find just happened to be hers.
"You're telling me." I pushed a few items around in an effort to out the piece I was looking for. No such luck.
"Zoe and Talia sure are messy, Mom." Melina stated the obvious in her usual style: hands on hips, eyebrows cocked, with all the wisdom of an adult, not a six-year-old first grader.
"That they are." I spun around in place, hoping to settle my eyes on at least one piece of decluttered dresser or carpet. I found nothing. Inside, I wept. How could these girls be like this? How could they live in such filth, such disarray? How did the sheer volume of things on their floor not overwhelm them on a daily basis? I shook my head.
And then, I made my mistake.
"You know what Melina?" I said. "If these girls can't keep their room clean, I'm going to put you in here and give them your room."
Melina's hazel eyes grew wide and a mischievous smile spread across her face. She tilted her head to the right and glanced up to the left. I half-expected to see a thought bubble appear in the air. Instead, she whispered, "Is their room bigger than mine?"
"Yes, it is."
Later that afternoon, after I'd mentioned to the girls that something (anything really) had to be done about their room, Melina set up shop on the kitchen floor and planned out her new room.
"I'm drawing a model, Mommy," she said. "This new room is going to be great."
And each morning since then, the first words out of her mouth are: am I getting Zoe and Talia's room today?
I'll be honest. I have no intention of cramming two soon-to-be teenagers into a smaller room with a tiny closet. While having to share that space would certainly teach them a lesson, I'm certain that new, unexpected consequences would arise. Ones that impact me more than any of the girls.
And so, I've learned my lesson. Either get a filter, or keep my mouth shut.
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