Om picked up my four year old’s shoes from by the door and
told him to put them on so they could play. Instead, my darling son slapped the
shoes out of Om’s hands and laughed in his face. I immediately turned the heat
off the stove and went outside to have a talk with him.
We all know kids push boundaries. No, you may not climb the walls. Use gentle hands with the dog. Where is
your inside voice? Yes, you have to brush your teeth. Yes, you have to sing twinkle twinkle little star while you wash your
hands, make them really bubbly. Say please. Say thank you. Look at my eyes and listen. It seems to
never end, but eventually it does sink in and my kiddo realises the boundary
line isn’t going to budge. No matter how many times you ask, Mom will not buy
all the snacks at the checkout counter. It’s just not going to happen.
Or at least it shouldn’t
happen.
What if the shop owner sees you begging and that mom isn't buying so reaches in the candy pot and hands you treats? What if
after you slap the shoes out of Om’s hands he doesn’t say anything? What if you
throw a public temper tantrum and while your mom is trying her hardest to
ignore you, a stranger comes up making pity noises and hands you juice box? What
if you order grownups around and they do what you say?
A friend once told me the story of her toddler daughter crying
loudly because she didn’t want to take a nap. A neighbour actually came to the
gate and told her the child is crying and she should tend to her. My quick witted
friend replied with a smile, “Oh no. It’s healthy for her to cry. It’ll make her
lungs strong.”
“How do you handle it?” I ask expat friends, and their
responses are just as diverse as our children are.
So I give the candy back to the shop owner. I have a stern
talk with my son in front of Om about how he is expected to behave. I tell the
juice box stranger that my son is angry, not sad, and that he needs to listen to
his mom. I try to stop worrying that somehow I am offending people here by how
I discipline and what I expect of my son.
Often people back home remark how living overseas is such a
great opportunity for a child. I totally agree, but on the really rough days I
think, Oh boy, I’d better watch out. This living
overseas thing is a great opportunity to turn my sweet, smart boy into a spoiled, bossy brat.
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