Brother Diary: Mother and Zen

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Brother Diary: Mother and Zen
Brother Diary: Mother and Zen
Anonim

The dreaded era has arrived: when the Little One touches the toys of the Big One.

Training starts.

Photo: MMMMichelle, flickr.com
Photo: MMMMichelle, flickr.com

– Mom, get Laura out of here

The above sentence is already the result of a several-week course, although Bence still prefers to hit (/lök/clap/etc.) before speaking. But you don't have to fear Laura either. He was carved from hard wood. He easily takes Bence's toys, grabs them, and plays with him directly: he paints the Lego bus he loves the most or his favorite small train and plays tricks until he gets it. Then he runs. In such cases, the parent naturally tries to stay outside the coastline, but the boundaries must be drawn.

"Laura, don't take Bence's toys!" Of course, Laura can't hear anything, so she's mostly deaf at this point. As events unfold, the next step is "Bence, don't hit Laura!" but since he is also poor hearing-impaired, I repeat this three times or so, in an ever-increasing tone. The next question is routine. "Bence, would you like some chocolate?" He finally looks up at this. "Mom, what did you say?" "Not to hurt Laura, please." Okay, it's not the most scientific method, and Mr. Ranschburg would probably be rolling in his grave if he heard it, but it worked for us.

Miniature Tornado

In the meantime, Laura turned on the TV like a pocket Godzilla, dismantled the railway tracks and happily headed for the clothes dryer, only to see Bence appear at the door a minute later with wet green Szörny Rt panties on his head. I would talk about it first, but I have to laugh so hard that I run away to the kitchen instead.

Yes, I quickly had to realize that the fewer things I forbid the children, the better for everyone

I'm not talking about a complete lack of discipline, but when you force something unnecessarily. Like how it's not a good idea to unpack the clothes dryer - since I put the clothes back down in exactly three minutes. Is the dryer really such a cardinal question? Well, it's not. After negotiating with myself, I get back into a motherly zen state (without having smothered her for now). But in the same way, it is not an important question who puts the toothpaste on the toothbrush, whether you can put the corn on the salad, or whether you have to take off or put on the hat or coat first. On the worst of these days, he is typically hysterical. Not on his bad days - on mine. If he puts the toothpaste on the toothbrush, at best a little goes with it, if I didn't plan to serve the corn together with the salad, then now we eat it together as much as possible, and I don't even bother deciding the order of the hat and the jacket, just because, because it makes no sense.

It's been a long road to the motherly zen state, but now I feel like we're here.

At least for a couple of hours while they sleep.

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