It’s possible that I’m hopelessly deluded but I’m pretty sure my quality of life would be markedly better if my children would only listen to me. Maybe I am just a particularly inept parent, and I’m the only person alive with children who don’t actually listen to her, but it seems that most of the moms I know who have (boy) children share this sentiment.
I took the boys to our community garden box this morning so we could get started on the business of soil enriching and planting. We returned home after about an hour for a bit of lunch (and some clean-up) before Kindergarten. I pulled up to the curb in front of our house and hopped out of the car. As is his custom, the Gort followed after me. He now climbs all the way from the back of the van to the driver’s seat and exits via the driver door. Instead of either of the side doors.
This strange habit is largely a result of wanting to ‘beat’ his brother in getting outside first. There’s a lot of ‘I’m getting in the van first!’ these days followed by wailing when a brother disregards the command accompanied with a resolute ‘well, I’m getting out first! Mom, I’m getting out first!’
Ah, the joys.
So anyway, in order to bypass further argument with his brother over who gets out of the sliding door first, the clever Gort has taken to using my door. And almost never closes the door once he’s out.
Today was no different. He jumped into the street (while I watched to make sure he was safe) and ran towards the curb. ‘Close the door!’ I reminded him. As he kept running towards me. ‘Close the door!’ I tried again. He arrived at the curb as if I’d said nothing at all. ‘Close the door!’ I tried for a third time. Less politely than the previous two. He looked at me confused, and made a beeline towards the open side door and was about to push the button while his brother was still sitting in the car.
‘Close the door on the other side,’ I tried. Completely exasperated. I’m sure the neighbors think I am nuts, but what’s a girl to do?
I’m starting to think willful disobedience is not the problem, here. The culprit appears to be a lack of common sense.
I picked the Gort up from Kindergarten yesterday. As I’ve done nearly every day since the end of August 2009. I stood patiently at the door, waiting for my blond cherub to come charging towards me. Except he didn’t. All of his classmates appeared and joined their respective moms, but I stood there alone. Finally I started to get worried, even though I knew he was inside the school building somewhere and couldn’t have gotten lost or abducted. I went inside to see if he was lingering outside his classroom. Not there. I peeked inside the classroom. Nobody there. I found his teacher in the hallway. ‘Have you seen the Gort?’ I asked him nervously. ‘Yeah, he’s standing out there,’ he said. Pointing to the drop-off line.
Sure enough, I found the blondie standing by the stairs at the spot where I drop him off every day. The bus had dropped them off at that door after swimming lessons, so he figured he should stay there rather than go to the pick-up line.
It may be in my mental health’s best interest to abandon this dream of having obedient children. Or a finite laundry pile.
So instead I’m going to attack my Calgary-superdry (foot) heels and see if I can whittle them into something more presentable and user-friendly.
I’m guessing my quality of life would also improve if my feet didn’t get stuck in the carpet whenever I walk around the house barefoot.