My children under threat. Or, are they?

We all have been guilty of giving some form of threat to our children, or the other. They vary from parent to parent. Also, from child to child. As they overuse in parenting that no two fingers are alike, how can you expect the children to be alike. Hell what, even siblings are so different from each other. The same way, no single threat can be applied to two different children. The way I ‘handle’ my older one is so different from how I ‘tackle’ my younger one. The older one needs a logical explanation for everything around her. So, to tell her why we shouldn’t put our hand out of a moving vehicle, I had to use Physics, Biology and the Social Sciences. My younger one is a stickler for rules and regulations. All I had to tell him was that it is a rule to not take your hand out of a moving vehicle, and we were sorted.

Life is not all hunky dory, though. Every now and then, comes the time to get creative. Or be ready to lose the battle against the cute little monsters. It will be a pleasure to share my experiences in my journey of how my threats were under a threat during all my years of raising my raccoons. 

So, you have a melt-at-the-smile infant who refuses to sleep through the night. Hot summer night. The whole night the hubby and you are taking turns into rocking the inconsolable baby while taking power naps in between. Sorry. No respite here. You are at the mercy of the little tyrant. After the long night, the adorable munchkin decides that she had enough of adventure for one night and she dozes off in a wink. This is the ‘God Save You phase’. This is exactly where Deep Breathing starts to become an integral part of your life. Well, we realise that this technique is here to stay.... if you don’t want to lose your sanity.

You are super excited that your baby is turning and sitting up and standing and trotting around the house. Well... exactly that.... they are all over the house. They can reach places. Like literally. Every nook and corner. Every balcony and every wash-basin. Every staircase and every washroom. It is like they have the sixth sense of where the knives and scissors are. Of where your cosmetics are. Or your paints. Or your cleaning stuff. Ohhhh, the nightmare when you are ready to leave for an outing and you enter your room whose floor has been scrubbed with talcum powder and your sheepishly smiling munchkin, standing in front of the dressing mirror, has applied the vermilion all over her forehead.... just like her dear Mommy does. You are torn between the horrors of screaming and cleaning up the mess and teaching your child a lesson and going out. This can safely be called the ‘God Save Your Husband phase’. You can’t shout at the apple of your eyes. You are barely out of your post-partum depression. You are wearing make-up worth hundreds of rupees. The easy target is the dad. Well, you had never put on weight before this fellow entered your life. He deserves the wrath.

Then comes the play-school going era. Oh, the cute tiffin boxes and cuter shoes and the tiny uniforms having their own ID cards! Life is moving forward. You’d think?!!! The afternoon nap times have to be controlled so that they sleep on time at night. They have to get dressed on time along with a nutritious breakfast. You, being the cool Mom, need to surf the net regularly for fun, yet healthy tiffin ideas. Not to forget the toilet training phase that will create a havoc over your mind, body and soul. And of course, your ‘cruising towards a self identity’ school-goer will try to defy your each and every wish and command. Yes. It is the same bundle of joy for whom you have the under-eye dark circles to speak for themselves.

I have to confess here. I tried to use an unknown entity- the bad cat. ‘Pick up your toys or I will give them to the bad cat.’ ‘Finish your food or the bad cat would come and eat it.’ ‘Sleep right away or the bad cat would come.’ All was going on peacefully till my child became braver and tried to figure out as to what exactly will a small cat do? One night, she sat up.... after catching the dad knocking on the side table... pretending to be the ‘bad cat’! And she screamed, and I remember it - loud and clear - Mamma, Papa is only the bad cat! Well, there went my cat and the trusted threat... poof!!! This was my ‘God Save From The Bad Cat phase’. 

And since then, I have mastered my Angry Mom voice. The tone does the talking half of the time. When the temptation to defy is too strong for them to resist, you have to amp up the volume. They know. They know when to push your buttons. Here are a few pointers for the same:

1. When you are sitting comfortably on the sofa with the TV remote control in your hand.
2. When you are talking to your Mom/friend on the phone.
3. When you have visitors. (This one is the safest bet for them.)
4. At public places such as supermarkets or park.
5. When you have just sat with your cup of coffee at just the right temperature.

Well, luckily, most of the times, the trick is the same. Deep breathe and ignore their irrational demands. I usually use the countdown from 5 to 0. By the time, I reach 2, they give in, most of the times. To tell you the secret, I don’t know what am I supposed to do after zero.... if and when that day ever comes! I dread to think about such a scenario.

You need to have patience. A lot of it. Only practice helps. And of course, the sanity chamber, aka the closet or the washroom. I have learnt to declare this to my children - ‘Mamma is going to the washroom. Unless it is a life-threatening emergency, NOBODY will knock the door.’ And, of course, they knock! The little bundles of mischief will outgrow the threats and us... very soon. Enjoy while that lasts.