Happy Mother’s Day!
I hope all you mothers out there had a fabulous day yesterday. And I hope all of you who have mothers didn’t forget. I mean, is there anything worse than the disapproving silence of your mother? I would not wish that guilt inducing, silent stare on anyone.
This mother’s day, I really wanted to give my wife something special. Something more than the usual homemade cards and framed family portraits. I wanted to give her a well-behaved 3 year-old.
Many of you are probably wondering why I would put myself through this. Why not just take her out to lunch, buy some flowers, or give her a trip to the spa? Is it because I’m cheap? Is it because I put it off until the last-minute and was trying to enhance the appeal of our homemade gifts and breakfast in bed with a gift that sounds great but is impossible for a mother to objectively evaluate? Or is it because I love my wife, and I know this is a gift that she can enjoy for a lifetime?
Motivating factors aside, I set along the tedious path of creating a one week disciplinary crash course for V. She is notorious in our household for refusing to do anything that is not her idea. I’m not saying she is more difficult than a typical 3 year-old, but she certainly says supercalifragilisticexpialidocious more than loud enough.
Let me say V is a great kid, but we have definitely had our challenges since introducing BM into the family. It’s like whenever she hears BM cry, she is suddenly reminded that she needs attention immediately. Let’s just say it is trying.
Now, one thing V loves is when we sing along to Disney songs on youtube. From Mary Poppins to Cinderella, we spend most mornings belting out our favorites. Okay, may I like it too, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, I knew I the power of song was a tool I could use to
manipulate V’s behavior correct my daughter’s behavioral shortcomings.
So how did I use this to my advantage? By slipping in a couple new songs from my old pal Willy Wonka. It turns out V may not listen to me, but she treats what little orange men with green hair sing about like gospel. So she has taken it upon herself to cut out sweets, limit her TV time, and has really tried to reduce the tantrums (this is her favorite scene). She will no longer throw away her own trash for fear of being incinerated, but I guess that is just the price I will have to pay for outsourcing parenting to Loompa Land.