Lately I've grown concerned over my darling 6-year-old Gorbachev's horrific behavior. Big Shot Husband will tell you that this has been going on for roughly 4-5 years, but I have held on to the, "he'll get better when he gets older" approach which, either by dint of me growing less patient or him growing more annoying, has not seemed to hold true. And though he is adorable and has a charming impish smile and winning laugh, he still drives us completely nuts.
Whenever I tell people how annoying he is and how he is constantly tormenting his siblings and crying and screaming and disobeying, they say, "Oh, that's just his job as the little brother." If this is indeed the case, he is the biggest overachiever in the history of family dynamics.
So yesterday, when my kids had a late opening due to some ice on the road (??!!) and I didn't get to take them until 10 o'clock (??!!!) on the first day back from a ten day break (??!!!!), things reached a boiling point. That's right, folks, I had to rethink my "this is my fourth child he's just going to have to raise himself" philosophy. I had to come up with a parenting tactic that would give us some chance of training this child into becoming a productive citizen. I used a scheme I read about in some parenting article which I scoffed at at the time. It's called "The Marble Jar." I'm sure you all know how it works--one marble in for good behavior, one marble out for bad behavior, lots of marbles=big treat.
Right then and there, I grabbed a clear plastic container and the big jar of those decorative glass stones I am in possession of in ridiculous quantities due to the GIANT Bar Mitzvah-sized party I threw for Gorby's upsherin (third b-day haircutting event) wherein I created elaborate Noah's Ark themed centerpieces (the glass stones were the water) and completely went nuts over a THREE YEAR OLD'S BIRTHDAY. But I digress.
Anyway, I explained the program to him and the other children, who were all too happy to become whistle-blowers (I mean, positive role models for proper behavior), and off we trotted to school (two hours late, grrr). Meanwhile, halfway to school I realized that the Gabor sisters had somehow forgotten to put Eva's backpack in the car and I had to turn around halfway to school (not close by) and go back for it.
And guess who hopped out of the car like his pants were on fire to retrieve it as soon as I pulled into the garage? You guessed it, duh duh duh duhhhhh Mr. Gorbachev Cake! And in the afternoon, he played with Perfect Eldest Son without hitting him, tackling him, screaming or crying to me when he didn't get his way! And he didn't scream at our housekeeper when she helped him in the bath (like he normally does). Yay marbles!! I do recognize that, as with all parenting gimmicks I have employed over the years, that the excitement of this ploy will probably dwindle pretty fast. This is not my first rodeo. However, it goes to show that Gorby is trainable! It's not a lost cause! And maybe, just maybe, I won't entirely lose my marbles. Yet.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
7-11
Today I would like to talk about 7-11. Fortunately, this convenience store does not play too large a role in my life. However, today our fun trip to 7-11 happened to be instructive on an unprecedented existential level.
Here's what happened: I picked up Zsa Zsa, Eva and Gorby from school, anticipating a possible stop at the park on this freakishly warm January day. However, by the time I picked them up, the sun was starting to fade and it was actually getting a little chilly. So I said, "Children, do you, like, want to go to the park or....?", instead of, "Children, hold on to your hats, we are going to the park, wheehee!" My enthusiasm was waning every second because I was not remembering that since it is January, after all, the sun would be setting, like, by the time we get home from school. Anyway, Zsa Zsa had the brilliant idea of going to 7-11 for Slurpees. The rationale was that since it's the "first warm day of winter"????!!, this would be a great activity.
Now, over the summer, of course we use 7-11 a lot more frequently. Because of our limited kosher options, those of us in kosher world are always desperately looking for someplace "fun" and "normal" to take our kids for treats so they feel like they are part of the real world. Sort of. So, for example, Zsa Zsa's backyard camp consisted of swimming at a private pool (nobody should see the girls swimming), learning to cook and plan menus, going on wholesome field trips and a DAILY trip to 7-11. I was a little horrified by this until I realized that my daily trip to Starbucks might be construed as somewhat analogous. Could I really throw stones here?
Then, on our trip to Mother and Daddy's house out west in August, I encountered the most spectacular 7-11 ever. It looked like a hospital cafeteria, and the Slurpee machine was seriously top-notch, the handle glided smoothly, the iciness of the Slurpee was perfection. In their affluent community, this is what 7-11 looks like. It was then that I came up with my notion that if one were stuck in a city with no kosher food, one could survive pretty nicely with provisions from the local 7-11. There are often kosher hard-boiled eggs, a variety of nuts, fresh fruit, any number of packaged items, cereal, milk, a multitude of beverages, of course, and, ta-da our good old Slurpee.
Flash back to today. Our 7-11 is located in the middle of Section 8 housing and looks it. Most patrons do not count English as a language they know. However, since Gorby never goes to the bathroom at school and, hence, needs to the moment I see him after school, we spent the first part of our 7-11 visit today in the bathroom. I told the Gabor Sisters to stand directly outside the bathroom (didn't want them wandering far afield in the sketchy store), and braced myself for what I would encounter inside. I was pleasantly surprised at the shiny cleanliness of the bathroom. It was super clean and smelled very fresh!! That is, until Gorby forgot how to aim into a toilet and, hence, forced me to clean the 7-11 bathroom. Sigh.
Then, of course, I asked him to wash his hands with soap. He washed his hands, without soap. "Gorby," I said, "Did you use soap?" Nod. "Gorby, I know you didn't because you can't reach the soap." He insisted he did, so I grabbed his hands, and washed his hands with soap for him. Then I dropped the hammer. That's right, folks, first I told him, "It's flu season and if you don't wash your hands with soap you could get flu AND DIE!" and then, when he still stuck with his original story, I said, "Well, if you are going to lie to me, then NO SLURPEE."
I rushed out of the bathroom to find the girls quietly waiting in the exact same spot I left them (they at least are well-trained), and we ventured to the Slurpee machine. I first helped Zsa Zsa get hers, then Eva. Then I said, "OK, let's go get in line." I threw a side-long glance at Gorby who shrugged and then. . .the torrent of tears came. And I thought to myself how upset I would have been as a 6-year-old if my mother didn't get me a Slurpee just because I lied about using soap. So I relented (OK, let's get real, I totally was going to get him a Slurpee anyway, I was just trying to make him think twice about lying to his mother again). I held him and told him how influenza is a very serious illness and I want to keep him alive and he needs to remember it is a serious aveira (sin) to lie and, "Want a Slurpee sweetie?"
So, folks, I have learned that a simple trip to 7-11 can involve the following:
1) A lesson on socio-economic differentiation in 7-11s across America
2) Angst about the availability of kosher food in emergency situations
3) Angst about providing our children enough "kosher treats in real stores" experiences
4) A recognition of my lack of parenting skills
5) Confirmation that Gorby is a lunatic
All in all, by the time I got home I was exhausted and the kids were all hyped up from the caffeine in their Slurpees. And I am busily reading parenting books. Ha ha, just kidding, I gave up a long time ago!
Here's what happened: I picked up Zsa Zsa, Eva and Gorby from school, anticipating a possible stop at the park on this freakishly warm January day. However, by the time I picked them up, the sun was starting to fade and it was actually getting a little chilly. So I said, "Children, do you, like, want to go to the park or....?", instead of, "Children, hold on to your hats, we are going to the park, wheehee!" My enthusiasm was waning every second because I was not remembering that since it is January, after all, the sun would be setting, like, by the time we get home from school. Anyway, Zsa Zsa had the brilliant idea of going to 7-11 for Slurpees. The rationale was that since it's the "first warm day of winter"????!!, this would be a great activity.
Now, over the summer, of course we use 7-11 a lot more frequently. Because of our limited kosher options, those of us in kosher world are always desperately looking for someplace "fun" and "normal" to take our kids for treats so they feel like they are part of the real world. Sort of. So, for example, Zsa Zsa's backyard camp consisted of swimming at a private pool (nobody should see the girls swimming), learning to cook and plan menus, going on wholesome field trips and a DAILY trip to 7-11. I was a little horrified by this until I realized that my daily trip to Starbucks might be construed as somewhat analogous. Could I really throw stones here?
Then, on our trip to Mother and Daddy's house out west in August, I encountered the most spectacular 7-11 ever. It looked like a hospital cafeteria, and the Slurpee machine was seriously top-notch, the handle glided smoothly, the iciness of the Slurpee was perfection. In their affluent community, this is what 7-11 looks like. It was then that I came up with my notion that if one were stuck in a city with no kosher food, one could survive pretty nicely with provisions from the local 7-11. There are often kosher hard-boiled eggs, a variety of nuts, fresh fruit, any number of packaged items, cereal, milk, a multitude of beverages, of course, and, ta-da our good old Slurpee.
Flash back to today. Our 7-11 is located in the middle of Section 8 housing and looks it. Most patrons do not count English as a language they know. However, since Gorby never goes to the bathroom at school and, hence, needs to the moment I see him after school, we spent the first part of our 7-11 visit today in the bathroom. I told the Gabor Sisters to stand directly outside the bathroom (didn't want them wandering far afield in the sketchy store), and braced myself for what I would encounter inside. I was pleasantly surprised at the shiny cleanliness of the bathroom. It was super clean and smelled very fresh!! That is, until Gorby forgot how to aim into a toilet and, hence, forced me to clean the 7-11 bathroom. Sigh.
Then, of course, I asked him to wash his hands with soap. He washed his hands, without soap. "Gorby," I said, "Did you use soap?" Nod. "Gorby, I know you didn't because you can't reach the soap." He insisted he did, so I grabbed his hands, and washed his hands with soap for him. Then I dropped the hammer. That's right, folks, first I told him, "It's flu season and if you don't wash your hands with soap you could get flu AND DIE!" and then, when he still stuck with his original story, I said, "Well, if you are going to lie to me, then NO SLURPEE."
I rushed out of the bathroom to find the girls quietly waiting in the exact same spot I left them (they at least are well-trained), and we ventured to the Slurpee machine. I first helped Zsa Zsa get hers, then Eva. Then I said, "OK, let's go get in line." I threw a side-long glance at Gorby who shrugged and then. . .the torrent of tears came. And I thought to myself how upset I would have been as a 6-year-old if my mother didn't get me a Slurpee just because I lied about using soap. So I relented (OK, let's get real, I totally was going to get him a Slurpee anyway, I was just trying to make him think twice about lying to his mother again). I held him and told him how influenza is a very serious illness and I want to keep him alive and he needs to remember it is a serious aveira (sin) to lie and, "Want a Slurpee sweetie?"
So, folks, I have learned that a simple trip to 7-11 can involve the following:
1) A lesson on socio-economic differentiation in 7-11s across America
2) Angst about the availability of kosher food in emergency situations
3) Angst about providing our children enough "kosher treats in real stores" experiences
4) A recognition of my lack of parenting skills
5) Confirmation that Gorby is a lunatic
All in all, by the time I got home I was exhausted and the kids were all hyped up from the caffeine in their Slurpees. And I am busily reading parenting books. Ha ha, just kidding, I gave up a long time ago!
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