Hide the Scissors

This week has been brutal in the parenting department.  And the uneven, choppy frosting on the crappy cake was the discovery this morning that Matt had decided to cut his hair.  Specifically his bangs?  Do boys have bangs?
I have no idea when this happened.  I suspect it happened yesterday afternoon because yesterday he cut holes in his school shirt during homework time.  I was, perhaps, a little distracted by the ruined shirt to notice the giant chunk of hair missing.  That's my theory at least.
But there it was, this morning, a giant, close cropped, chunk missing from his shaggy locks.
Then came the argument.  He didn't want his hair cut.  He had already fixed what was bothering him (apparently it was touching a part of his forehead and irritating him).  He didn't need the rest of it cut to make it look ok.  It could be a new hairstyle.  Argument for every point I tried to make.  Not awesome.
So, faced with yet another awesome parenting decision (to force him to get a haircut or not), I tried handing off the whole choice to Andy.  But that backfired.  Because Andy was all set to just let him walk around looking like a dude who lost a fight with a weed whacker.  I guess guys don't care?  I had to pull Andy aside and tell him that Matt needed a haircut.  That I couldn't walk around with him looking like that.
Thankfully, Andy took him so they could get "man" haircuts at Sportsclips.  Matt's hair is super short but that hairdresser worked some magic--he looks fine.  He definitely did some damage with the scissors.
Pretty sure I need to hide them.

It's all fair...

Sometimes being a parent sucks.
Andy and I take the hard line that we are not our children's pal, buddy or BFF.  We are parents.  Responsible for helping the little dudes grow into responsible and awesome adults.  And sometimes that means we have to enforce the rules and hand out consequences.
I really hate the whole "consequences" part of parenting.  I am not big on spanking...never have been.  Not saying my children have never been spanked.  They have.  Just not often.
More often we enforce a system of consequences as our discipline.  Didn't eat dinner?  No dessert.  Talk back?  Time out with some writing work on how to appropriately express how you are feeling.  Issues at school?  In depth discussion on what happened, why it was wrong, and a plan for doing better.  And then there is always manual labor: extra chores, dog doo duty, etc for those random times when they are just not making great choices.  It can be difficult sometimes to find a consequence to fit an issue...but that's all trial and error.
And so is rule making at times.  How much should we really expect from our eight year old?  Six year old? Toddler?  What can they understand of right/wrong, acceptable/unacceptable?  Does Matt have to hold a higher standard than Nic?  Does Nic have the same expectations on him as Matt?  How do I explain that Em is going to "get away" with more stuff because right now he is just learning?  How does fairness come into play?
This is the area of parenting where I have the most doubts.  Do I come down too hard on them?  Expect too much?  Am I setting them up to fail?  
Tonight has been kind of rough.  We have had some issues with the boys surrounding bedtime routine (specifically shower times, monkey business time wasting, and soap wasting--stuff I know I drove my parents nuts with).  Last night, after a long discussion on our expectations for better behavior and choices, we handed out some pretty heavy consequences: no "Rudolph" movie, early bedtime, and sleeping in separate rooms.  Today I tried to be very specific in what needed to happen to avoid those consequences.  And today there was still monkey business time wasting going on.  So, again tonight, there is no movie, early bedtimes, and separate sleeping.  And it's killing me.  Because I wonder if I made the consequences too harsh.  Because Matt is madder than I have ever seen him.  And Nic is sad.  Should I have let it slide?  Taken a more "hands on" approach to the whole routine of getting ready for bed?  Sat in the bathroom with a timer?
I don't know.  I don't like it.
I would rather be cuddled on the couch right now watching "Rudolph" with my two big kiddos.
Maybe tomorrow we will figure out what works.

And then there are days...

where it seems everything that comes out of my mouth is something I never in a million years ever thought I would say.
And in the midst of lost pencils, homework woes, baby mystery puke smells, and a dog that could REALLY use a grooming, I find myself amazed and blessed.  And a little weepy because I know this season of my life won't last long.
Thankful for the moments, big and small, routine and magical, eye rolling and laughter inducing.
Because really, when else am I going to say "if you don't stop licking your brother..."

Soap Box Moment

I had a long car ride today to think on somethings.  And it's all kind of a spaghetti mash up but makes complete sense to me.  I am not sure I can even explain it in a way that will make sense, tie all my thoughts together but here is what was jumbling around:
-I love and adore my children.  I had the best time this weekend watching them run around and experience a theme park.  We ate junk. They rode roller coasters and rides.  We saw and did so many fun things and seeing them through my kids eyes made my experience better.  And they were great.  Well behaved and happy for the most part.  Even Emerson was a laid back little dude.
-Today is the first Sunday of the Advent season.  It is the Sunday of hope.  Just thinking of all that hope brings us...and how much faith we have to have in God and His promises to hold on to the hope of Jesus.  That's huge and amazing.  And that hope, that type of lifting up heart happy, is something I want my children to have.  I want them to have faith in something bigger and  more wonderful than what their reality is now.
-I am happy.  Not all day everyday.  That's impossible.  But I am happy.  Content in my life.  Things aren't perfect.  I burn dinners and sometime struggle through parenting and keeping a good marriage and have moments where I would really just like to go pee by myself without a little person following right behind jabbering at me.  But at the end of the day I can look back and smile.  I am blessed with so much.  And the people in my life are fantastic.  And total blessings.  Amazing.  Life's pretty good.

So, here is where all that get's spaghetti-ed (and it makes sense in my mind to draw this specific conclusion from those three things):  My happiness is not the responsibility of my children.  They are a source of happiness, for sure of course duh, but they do not--nor should they (ever)--bear the responsibility for my happiness.  In fact, my job as a parent is to not only teach them practical basics of survival, but to impart to them how to find hope, happiness, satisfaction/contentment, and build stability so those things flourish in their lives.  My example of (hopefully) finding happiness primarily within then with other people/places/things building on what is there already is what I hope to show my kiddos.  I want them to look within for happiness and validation and all that fuzzy warm good stuff and not look to other people to give those things to them.  I feel like I am maybe not making a whole lot of sense.
And I am sure that sounds terribly preachy and soapboxy and maybe snarky.  But I really do not mean it to be.  I just know I never want my kiddos to feel pressure to do things just to make me happy.  Because I want them to know that needs to come from your own little bubble...I want them to find it for themselves and not look for other people to give it to them.  And then share the happy. :)  Sharing the happy is the best.