Last fall there was one evening where my kids were going absolutely crazy (and so was I). They had been cooped up for too long and their itty bitty bodies just needed openness and fresh air. The weather had abruptly made it’s inevitable transition from brisk to just a bit too chilly for a long-sleeved t-shirt. We had recently moved into a new home so I was frantically running around trying to find their jackets before we ventured outside. I was trying to hurry because these kids needed to get outside. Bad. I found my daughter’s coat fairly quickly (because she has like seventeen of them) and as I handed it to her she said, “Thanks Mom!” and immediately started zipping it up. I stood there for a second and thought, Yes! She’s finally there. We no longer have to fight about her putting on her coat. I hand her the jacket. She puts it on. Yes. This is awesome.
I then turned back to the closet and began to dig a bit more for my son’s coat. Their excited energy about this new outdoor venture was amping up their behavior even more and I could not wait to get them to a space without four walls. Finally, I found his coat and started walking towards him to help him put it on. As soon as he saw me coming he took off running in the opposite direction screaming, “NO! NO Yacket!! No Yaaaaaackeeeeeeet!!” I stayed very calm and collected as I explained, “Sweetie, it’s cold outside so you need to wear a jacket. You don’t want to be cold do you??” I mean, duh, my logic was brilliant. cold=Jacket. But of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. He continued to run away from me and dodge my advances. I finally got ahold of him and pretended to give him a big bear hug. I thought this would lighten his mood and he would then relax into my arms. I seriously underestimated my “go with the flow” son’s ability to stay headstrong about not wearing his jacket. But, I was not going to give up. I have to be a good mom and make my kid wear a jacket, right?? As he began pulling away from my hug I tried to wrangle his arm into one of the sleeves. Surely I thought by this point he would be tired of fighting me on this and just put it on. But no, of course not. He instead elevated his emotions from simple defiance to full on tears. He was definitely upset about this whole jacket thing. I remember vividly he started to get away from my grasp so I shifted my weight just enough to the side and tried to pull him back over. Instead of success, I completely lost my balance and fell over onto the floor. As he took off running down the hallway I just laid there staring at the ceiling, totally out of breath and starting to sweat.
Now, if this had been my firstborn, I would have most definitely gone chasing after her with threats of staying inside for the rest of her life if she didn’t put on her jacket. I would not be disrespected like this!! I would be a good mom and MAKE her wear a jacket!!! She would have started throwing a tantrum and we would have ended the evening with a timeout in her room instead of going outside. So as I laid there on the floor, breathing heavily from my exertion, I yelled out to my husband, “Hey sweetie?! Emmett’s going to go outside without a jacket.” He paused for a second and answered back with a very confused sound in his voice, “…Ok…ummm…why??” I let out an exasperated sigh and exclaimed, “Because, I just realized I’ve been having this same exact fight for two years. I finally got Grace to put on her jacket. Now this one starts giving me grief. I’m out man.”
And you know what I learned? He survived. He was a little chilly but he didn’t really care. And me giving into the jacket fiasco didn’t ruin my position as co-grand master authority figure. It was all fine.
As I’m learning that the world will not end if I start implementing the whole “choose your battles” philosophy with my son, I’m also noticing that I just straight up want to give in to him more than I did with my daughter. (Yikes, that level of honesty is a bit hard to admit). Emmett is just a more easy-going, go-with-the-flow kind of person than my daughter. With her, I felt like I couldn’t ever give in because if I did, she would take that and run and never stop. With Emmett he doesn’t fight me as much on ideas and plans, so if he really does dig his heels in about something (that I've already had to deal with for two years) I have a stronger tendency to want to be like, you know what, peace out. Don’t wear your jacket and let’s go play. Also, add in the fact that he’s my answer to a life-long prayer of having a cuddly kid (as I described here "My baby doesn't let go") and I’m just really being hit with a lot here.
I think what it all comes down to though is that I’m simply learning from my previous experience with child number one and applying that to child number two. Do we really NEED to fight for 20 minutes about wearing a jacket? Or can we just go play with chalk and blow bubbles. I’ll be all nice and warm in my sweater cardigan with the fur lining and you’ll be feeling the chilly wind nip your ears. But, life will go on. And maybe next time, you’ll wear your yacket.
Do you find yourself having the same fight but with a different kid? Does it feel never-ending to you too? :) Tell me about in the comments below! I would love to hear it :) (If you don’t have a G+ account just choose the “anonymous” option!)
Blessings,
Shantastic
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