Does anyone know how to make a child become inherently responsible?
Everyday I wake up to an alarm on my phone that I set in order to wake up in time to get my kids up for school. I wake up Sam and then spend the next fifteen minutes screaming for Michael to wake up. I pull clothes out of his drawer and throw them at his head and then rip his covers off. I give him another couple shakes before heading downstairs to make lunches.
Research has shown that if I don’t spend the first few minutes of my day in this manner, then Michael will come strolling downstairs a few minutes before the bus is due to arrive looking like a homeless lunatic.
While I pack lunches and try to simultaneously make coffee, I repeatedly yell at the kids to grab something to eat. Otherwise they will just sit at the table waiting for a waitress to magically appear with their bowl of cereal.
They are never able to get their shit together.
Often in the interest of time I will end up throwing a waffle in the toaster or grabbing the milk for their cereal – because they just cannot seem to get their bodies to move fast enough, and if they miss that bus, now my morning will be really screwed.
I will at some point pour myself a cup of coffee and take one heavenly sip.
After they finally eat, I have to remind them to brush their teeth and make their beds. Even though I have been telling them to do this since they were three, I have to remind them. EVERY. DAY.
In addition, I now have to remind Michael to put on deodorant so that he won’t smell like a farm animal at school and alienate his friends.
I spend 8:03 to 8:06 chasing both children around with library books, folders, and lunch bags while screaming at them to put on hats and gloves. At 8:06 we switch gears into full panic mode. I open the front door and peer out to see if the bus has arrived.
“HURRY UP!!” I scream frantically while they tie their shoes and strap on their backpacks.
Once they are out the door I go back to my coffee that is now an ice cold cup of sludge and pour it into the sink.
That’s how I start my day….every living day.
Will it ever change?
Will some day arrive when my children know what to do??
At what age will they be when I no longer have to ask them if they brushed their teeth?
When they arrive home the panic and pestering picks up where we left off.
I ask them to get started on their homework. Michael, who has one assignment on Wednesdays that requires an entire week to complete, tells me that he doesn’t have to do his homework every afternoon. He would rather leave the week’s worth of work until the last minute, and every week I try to explain and coax him into preparing and doing a little bit at a time.
Drums have to be practiced and reading and math needs to be completed daily.
Dinner needs to be eaten after that.
Then showers need to be taken and then I have to chase them around to get them to put their little bodies into their beds at a reasonable time.
There’s just endless chasing and yelling.
This past week the irresponsibility reached an all-time high.
When I opened Michael’s folder I found his homework that was supposed to be turned in two day previous.
Then I saw a little folded piece of paper and opened it to find that it was a birthday invitation from one of his classmates. The date that I found the invite was February 24th. The date of the party was February 15th.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I screeched, armed with the invite and the not-turned-in homework.
“I forgot.” Michael answered with a shrug.
“Well do you know what happens to people who “forget?” I asked gravely.
“They become homeless losers!! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?”
He said “no,” and I sent him upstairs to shower and go to bed.
I was very disappointed. Also, I didn’t know how to rectify the situation. My mother never had to chase me around, because I had an innate ability to care about my duties. I received assignments and responsibilities and knew that they must be completed. The fear of failure was enough for me, and still is to this day.
Once the day had ended and both kids were in their beds reading, I headed into the shower.
I am a tired and weathered woman.
The shower is a delightful escape.
For ten minutes I can go into the steamy hot water and lather myself with various creamy shower gels and feel good.
But instead of this dreamy scene- I took one step into the shower and was met with an oil slick that jeopardized my life.
My feet were on banana peels and I could only grab the shower curtain to save myself. I grabbed and grabbed at the curtain as I fell to my untimely death. The whole curtain came down and I was left an oily naked mess in the tub with the curtain the rod hitting me in the head.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!” I screamed!!!
Mr. Gaga came running up as he heard the 6 tons of flesh hitting the basin walls.
“What happened?” he asked looking down at me as I laid in a pile of shower curtain and despair.
“Your children!!” I squeaked.
I got myself together and came out in a towel to ask Michael what he had done in the shower. I have a cleansing oil in the shower that had clearly been squirted all over the tub.
“What did you do?” I demanded, naked and dripping in my towel.
“Well…I squirted the oil.” he admitted.
“And then, I was just enjoying the shower, I was relaxing and so happy…” he said quietly.
“I mean I was so relaxed….I just forget to wash my hair….” he said quietly.
“And my body.”
WHAT THE FUCK?
Do I have to go into the shower and scrub these people?
I don’t know what to do any more.
How do I make these people become upstanding responsible citizens of America?
Ideas are requested and welcome;)
I KNOW YOU WILL ALL TELL ME TO PUNISH THEM AND MAKE CONSEQUENCES – BUT I HAVE DONE THAT AND IT DOESN’T WORK – THEY ARE STILL SMELLY BILLY GOATS THAT DON’T TURN IN THEIR HOMEWORK OR BRUSH THEIR TEETH…HELP. JUST CLICK THE BANNER BELOW BECAUSE I AM TRYING.. XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA