Don't Feed the Beast Part II- Parents Edition

 As it turns out there are all different kinds of beasts that really just don't need feeding.

But there is one that is proving to be the most challenging, most frustrating, and most important one of all. This beast is a 4-foot-tall, cute-as-a-button, smart-as-a-whip kind of beast. This particular beast is my 6-year-old. Let me preface this by emphasizing how much I adore and love my child. Among her many wonderful character traits she is kind, loving, creative, talented, witty, and at times, down-right hilarious. Anyone who knows her will back me up on this. Anyone who knows her will also testify that she can have an attitude, a flair for drama, and meltdowns of beastly proportions. I'm guessing that a vast majority of 6-year-old's share these same charming qualities. But like many egocentric parents I am convinced that my child could win the award for such behavior. Blue ribbon. 1st place. Like really, she would get that really huge trophy if there was one. Ok you get the point. Let me digress.

While not ideal by any means, I have come to find that my kid's melodramatic flip-outs are not the real problem. Oh, don't you get me wrong. They are a problem. Oh hell yes they are a problem. They can make getting her to school on time a problem, brushing her teeth a problem, bathing a problem, getting dressed, picking shoes, eating vegetables, playing games, getting splinters, telling her no....all have the potential to become big ass problems. But they aren't the problem. The problem in all of this madness is....Well, its me.

Weird, huh? I seem so amazing, so well-put together, so damn good at this parenting thing, right? Ok, maybe that's my ego talking again. But on most days, I do feel like I am doing an alright job at this whole raising human beings thing. Its just that when it comes to these sneak beast attacks by my child, I have the tendency to allow my inner 6-year-old beast to rear its ugly head. This is the part of me that remains very well hidden on most occasions. It is the part of me that also can come out in full effect if my buttons are pushed in just the right way. And lord knows this little kid sure has mastered how to push them. But only (and here's the important part)- only because I let her.

In theory, I am the adult in the situation. As the adult it is my job to de-escalate any situation that is spinning out of control. And with kids, pretty much any situation has that potential.  I (again, in theory) am more emotionally developed and am more able to control my emotions. I (should) possess more rational thinking skills. Yet for some strange reason, there are more times than I care to admit when I do just the opposite. I argue about who is right and who is wrong- with a 6 year old. I try and yell and scream louder- than a 6 year old. I snap- at a 6 year old. And believe it or not, that is just what the little beast wants. To push me to the point where I flip out and start behaving just like she is. To get that reaction out of me no matter how negative it may be, because bad attention is better than no attention at all. When I become a little beast myself, I am basically serving up control of the situation on a silver platter to my child. Not effective. I am not only giving her control, I am teaching her that it is ok to handle stressful situations like a maniac. And thus, the dirty cycle begins. Sometimes its hard to tell where her crazy begins and where mine ends.

I am not implying that a parent should sit idly by as their kid disrespects, yells, screams, destroys, or generally misbehaves, with no repercussions. That is the opposite end of the spectrum and will produce a little beast who tramples all over their folks, expecting everything in life to always go their way. (And then the rest of the world gets to deal with that charming character trait later on). No, I am a believer in firm boundaries and consequences for children. I think they thrive on them, in fact. I simply do not think that imparting these consequences as a child is spinning wildly out of control is ever going to work. (This includes spanking, but that's a whole other nasty ass can of worms that I won't be opening any time soon).
 I say, let them wild out all they need to (unless they are trying to physically hurt you, in which case, awww helll naw).
Let them scream. Put on ear plugs.
Let them kick the wall. They have to deal with a hurt foot.
Let them destroy their room. They are going to have to clean it up.
Let them break their toys. They won't be getting any more for a long ass time.
Let them battle you about bedtime. Every minute they waste is a minute they have to go to bed earlier the next day. Not to mention being tired in the morning. Kids soon come to realize that it sucks to be tired.
Let them not eat their food. They don't get anything else until the next meal. And they sure as heck don't get dessert.
Let them whine or demand or yell at you for things. Calmly explain that when they can speak to you calmly/nicely/in a voice you can understand, then you will be able to understand what they want.
And the list could go on forever...(And just so you know, this is a list I need to post on every wall of my house, because I only do these things like half the time.)

If rules and boundaries are clear for everyone in the house, and  I stick to them, things generally tend to calm down a lot faster. When I try to reason, argue, yell, during my little one's maniacal flip outs the focus becomes the battle of the beasts rather that the issue or behavior at hand.

The bottom line is, things go so much smoother when I DO NOT ENGAGE. If I am able to accomplish the all too simple feat of just remaining calm during the storm, magic can happen. Real, true magic! Sure, my kid may still continue to flip the F out, but the difference is the effect it has on me. And what affects me, in turn affects her. And so on, and so on....

Not all cycles have to be dirty!!!!

Sin City

There I was, lil ole me in big ole Las Vegas. In between shots and 3 card poker and naps in the middle of the day (the best part), the wheels in this maniac mind wouldn't stop turning. Just like I do to everything/everyone else, I began to analyze what was going on around me. I began to compile a list.... 

Reasons why Vegas is awesome:

Because it's VEGAS! There is so much around that one word. So many have had so many experiences there, it is one of those places that is awesome just because it is. Everyone knows that. Duh

Because of the people. You can be sitting around a table with Jimmy from Alabama, Hector from El Salvador, Chin from China, and that one guy who sat behind you in 10th grade science class...all at one time. Where else does this happen on such a grand scale?

Because time does not exist there. 

Because it's the city of sin, yo! You can do all kinds of crazy shit and no one bats an eye your way. It's a place lacking the usual judgement we face in our daily lives. I find that lack of judgement pretty awesome. 

Because there are all kinds of ways to enjoy Vegas. You can come with a group of buddies, make it a couples getaway, you can bring the kids (but seriously why would you ever do that?), you can come with your whole family. You can gamble, or swim, or eat at every buffet, or dance your brains out at a club all night. Vegas can be whatever you want it to be. 

Because you can drink whenever and wherever you want. Not to mention the (FREE!) Alcohol while you are gambling. Yeah, yeah I know their master plan. But if you are a cautious gambler like me, free drinks work out jusssst fine. 

Because Vegas is synonymous with fun! You kinda can't NOT have fun there. Unless you are the lamest lame-o on the planet. 

Because it's VEGAS! Duh. 



Reasons why Vegas sucks:

Because of the cigarette smoke. Seriously. This is a non-smokers worst nightmare. Smoke is everywhere. It's hard to get used to being in an elevator with someone puffing away on those nasty ass shits. Yuck. 

Because you can go broke in the time it takes to say "FUCKKKK!!" No bueno, No bueno at all. 

Because some people act like a damn fool in Vegas. There they are living the "what happens in Vegas" dream, not realizing that other people gotta deal with their obnoxious ass. 

Because it's the city of sin. I'm down with some good ole fashioned sinning every now and again. But while you are in Vegas you are submerged in it. It feels absolutely filthy after a very short time. 

Because going to the pool can make a gal feel like a whale. A killer whale. But still....

Because you feel guilty for being tired. Like, shouldn't I be partying with strippers doing coke in a room somewhere? What's wrong with me?

Because despite all this shit, I can't wait to go back. :/