I hated when my mother pulled rank on me with, "Because I'm the mother and I said so!" Why couldn't she just explain her edict?
Then I had kids of my own and I began to understand.
"But WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?
I started out by trying to explain, but I learned you can't reason with a willful, whiny 2-year-old, so I resorted to my mother's words.
That usually brought wails of protest, which led to another of my mother's most uttered phrases: "When will you learn that you can't get what you want by screaming?"
Those became two of my most-used phrases when my kids were growing up. Then my older son had a son of his own. A screamer, just like his daddy.
We were in the car one day and my daughter-in-law and I were talking over the screaming toddler between us, while my son and my husband were trying to have a conversation in the front seat. Every few minutes, one of us would tell him he had to stay in his seat because it was dangerous for him to get out. After about 15 minutes of hearing this incessant, piercing, "I want OUT! I want OUT!" my son pulled the car over, turned around and looked sternly at his son.
"Trey, when are you going to learn that screaming won't get you what you want?"
Talk about gratifying. Talk about validation. What a moment.
Then I had kids of my own and I began to understand.
"But WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?
I started out by trying to explain, but I learned you can't reason with a willful, whiny 2-year-old, so I resorted to my mother's words.
That usually brought wails of protest, which led to another of my mother's most uttered phrases: "When will you learn that you can't get what you want by screaming?"
Those became two of my most-used phrases when my kids were growing up. Then my older son had a son of his own. A screamer, just like his daddy.
We were in the car one day and my daughter-in-law and I were talking over the screaming toddler between us, while my son and my husband were trying to have a conversation in the front seat. Every few minutes, one of us would tell him he had to stay in his seat because it was dangerous for him to get out. After about 15 minutes of hearing this incessant, piercing, "I want OUT! I want OUT!" my son pulled the car over, turned around and looked sternly at his son.
"Trey, when are you going to learn that screaming won't get you what you want?"
Talk about gratifying. Talk about validation. What a moment.
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