As the kids grow up, they have an increased awareness about cause and effect. By that I mean that they know the exact scenarios in which they will get into trouble and how to avoid them. They’re obviously not very sophisticated at the art of avoiding trouble but I’m certain this skill will be swiftly acquired in the months to come.
It used to be that when they did something they weren’t supposed to do, like raid my skincare drawer and squeeze out all the contents of my expensive eye cream, I would walk in to catch them red-handed engaging in said act of mischief.
These days, they seem to sense my approaching presence and will try to hide all evidence of their shenanigans.
Like yesterday, I noticed that Tru was taking an awfully long time doing his business in the toilet, so I decided to check it out. Just before I got there, he came running out to greet me, with a look of guilt plastered all over his face. That was like a dead giveaway and I was all “what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” he shook his head unconvincingly.
“Mommy, come here, you need to wear pants for me,” he said while pulling me in the opposite direction of the toilet, still looking extremely guilty. I wasn’t falling for it because HELLO, I’M YOUR MOTHER AND THE MASTER OF MISDIRECTION. I wrote the manual on the art of distraction and I know every trick in the book.
I got to the toilet and lo and behold, the entire roll of toilet paper was stuffed into the toilet bowl and it was so full that it was spilling out in all directions. In the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t a big deal as compared to say, pouring water on my laptop. It was just annoying because it was perfectly good 3-ply super soft toilet paper that could have been used more constructively.
Instead of making him face the wall to ponder the many legitimate uses of toilet paper, I figured this was a good time to teach a far more important lesson. By now, they generally know when they’re doing something bad, else they wouldn’t need to hide it. What we need to teach now is not to cover it up.
We made a deal, that if he did something bad and confessed to it immediately, he wouldn’t get into trouble. On his part, he wasn’t supposed to hide it or lie about it. And on our part, we’re not supposed to naughty corner him. We could go on a 45-minute lecture explanation on why the bad thing they did was so bad, but no punishments.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that they’re kids and I don’t expect them to be perfect. But I’d definitely want them to fess up when they’re in trouble so we can figure out a way to rectify it together.
