On being the enforcer - or not

Discipline issues have been a challenge lately.

Last week the Catholic home schoolers came over for our monthly meeting. Despite short notice, the kids had their reports on June saints ready, and I had the house presentable. There was too much food as usual, and the kids were thrilled to meet the new puppy one family brought.  It should have been a fantastic day.

Except my kid had a meltdown when he lost a chess game. He grabbed a chunk of hair out of his older brother’s scalp and raced into his bedroom where he slammed the door three times just to make sure everyone heard. I excused myself to go “talk” to him. Of course, all the under 5 crowd followed out of curiousity. What will happen to the naughty child?  I was filled with dread that he might say something awful in their hearing. And really, all I wanted was for him to stay in his room until everyone left, but he likes an audience for his tantrums. So out he comes with a blanket over his head, mumbling invectives under his breath, like some kind of ghastly spirit.

What do you do in these situations? I tried to pretend I didn’t notice.  I didn’t want to give him a chance to get started on the “it was his fault!” defense.  And eventually he got distracted by other people's babies and forgot his displeasure. And none of the other moms really seemed too appalled because they stayed for 5 hours. 

After they left, I took away media for the weekend - only to forget by Friday.

That evening I discovered another son had broken his social media probation, so he had to be summoned for judgement and sentencing.  My husband and I were accused of being too strict and unfair. And I remembered everything I used to say to my mother, and tried to decide if I am more strict than she and my dad were.  The answer would have to be yes, because 1. We have more opportunities to be strict – Facebook, cell phones, internet usage, etc. 2. There are more kids whose parents are less strict. 3. The world is scarier.  I used to think my parents were the strictest parents in the whole world, or at least in our school, but my friends’ parents weren’t anywhere near as lackadaisical as some parents are these days. So when the kids are invited somewhere for a sleepover, I cringe and say no most of the time, except when we really know the other parents. Maybe moving around a lot makes us stricter because we haven’t had time to figure out who the good and bad kids in school are.  We only know the parents from our command or neighborhood, and even most of them we don’t know well, so it's hard to know who shares our parenting concerns and limitations.
 

We’re still trying to determine how to hand out responsibility and freedom, while at the same time enforcing consequences for transgressions.  When a friend’s son decided to run away for a few hours the other night, I was reminded of how much kids desire to be free and to be allowed privacy.  I used to run away and hide in the vacant lot next to our house pretty regularly in middle school. Most of the time I don’t think my mom even registered I was gone.  I’d try to wait long enough for her to really miss me, but I’d get hungry or cold or wet, and go back home sooner than I meant to.

I want to give my older kids opportunities to practice making good decisions and learning to stand up to peer pressure. I want to give my younger kids opportunities to play with other kids without fearing for the other children's safety.  I don't want to be the mom whose kids rebel because they weren't allowed to engage the world.

But I also fear the potential dangers.

I miss the days of worrying about diaper rash.