I remember an occasion when I was a young adult, still living at home. My sister had dropped my niece off, to be babysat by my parents, and my niece was whining about something. I don't remember what it was, but I do remember feeling bad for her, and wanting to give her whatever it was that she thought she needed at the time. I also remember my Dad being very annoyed by the whole thing and saying something to the effect that "All children are manipulative." I don't remember the exact words he used other than that, but the impression I got was that children were these crafty little creatures whose every action was designed to get something out of an unsuspecting adult. How horrible! I thought, for my Dad to think such a thing about such a cute and sweet little toddler. How sad that he has such a cynical view of life! How hard hearted of him not to soften up after listening to her sobs and seeing the tears. What a jerk...(my Dad, not my niece).
Fast forward to about 15 years and five children later. I have a new understanding and a new point of view. I am a parent. I have five sons. I hear more than I can personally process of whining, crying, screaming and fighting every day. Like most parents when I first had children, I melted a little inside and became a mushy, gushy fool. This is a natural reaction to the innocence of a new baby. They are helpless to do anything for themselves, and even their little cries are hardly offensive when they are first born, because they hardly have the power in their lungs to get loud. I still find the weak little cries of a newborn to be somewhat cute, and endearing. I don't, and have never really minded holding a screaming baby. I am secure enough to do what I can do, and if I can't make them happy, then I let them cry. I have even been generally patient with the toddler set and the tantrums that go along with that age group. I find that when I can't reason with them, I can be very good at ignoring the screaming until it stops.
My children, however have grown. My youngest son is now three years old. He would like to pretend that he is still a baby, and he often acts like a baby. I am much less sympathetic to his crying though, when I see that he stops every so often to check my reaction; And how hard he squeezes his eyes to make those few tears leak out. I also have a hard time when crying, tantrum throwing and etc have not disappeared as my boys have gotten older. My nine year old is still prone to waterworks when he can't get his way, and for me, the more they cry over something, the less likely I am to become sympathetic to their plight. The crying has turned into a way to manipulate me. Of course there are times when the tears are genuine, (I am not that jaded yet), but often its a way to try to push me in the direction they want me to go, and it doesn't ever work for them. I wonder if its just that first two years of training when we respond to their crying that makes them think that it will keep working, or if there are other wheels turning in their minds.
Crying isn't the only form of manipulation available to kids. Guilt is another big one. Just last night my six year old son came to me with this woefully sad expression on his face and a handful of change. "If I give you this money from my piggy bank will you let us play pictionary?" Of course he asks me right when I am in the middle of something, and his Dad is not home because he is out with two of the kids at Tae Kwon Do lessons. The living room isn't clean (a rule for game playing in general at our house is that the living room has to be clean), and the only other kids there are his nine year old brother, and the three year old that can't read or draw yet. So of course I declined his request and told him to wait for Daddy and the other boys to get home. Then he holds out the money and says "Please, just let us have some fun." I told him to put his money away and that he didn't have to pay me to let him have fun. After all he had plenty of toys to play with, and videos to watch, and crayons, pencils and papers to color with. Even while I was telling him that he didn't have to pay me to get to have fun, I was beginning to feel guilty. Was I not paying enough attention to them? Did we not have fun enough things to do? Should I take them outside or to the park more? Well-to tell you the truth I probably should take them outside and to the park more. I am not perfect. I was feeling pretty bad by the time I went to bed that night...pretty much like the worst parent on earth. My poor little kid was willing to give up all that loose change and tooth fairy money out of his piggy bank if I would just let him have...a...little....fun...! How horrible of me! Where have my priorities been? What could I do to make it up to him!
Then this morning, he came into my room, and he had a penny that his brother gave him. I told him to put it away with his piggy bank money, and this is what he says to me. "That money I tried to give you last night wasn't actually from my piggy bank. I found it in your room on the floor." Kind of puts things in a new perspective doesn't it? The kid was trying to bribe me with my own money, and I almost fell for it. Of course it did make me rethink my priorities and about spending more time with my kids, so it wasn't all bad, but still...I think I owe you an apology Dad. Maybe you were right, or maybe I have just joined you in your cynical and jaded point of view. Either way, I don't think you are a jerk, and I am sorry I ever did.
Fast forward to about 15 years and five children later. I have a new understanding and a new point of view. I am a parent. I have five sons. I hear more than I can personally process of whining, crying, screaming and fighting every day. Like most parents when I first had children, I melted a little inside and became a mushy, gushy fool. This is a natural reaction to the innocence of a new baby. They are helpless to do anything for themselves, and even their little cries are hardly offensive when they are first born, because they hardly have the power in their lungs to get loud. I still find the weak little cries of a newborn to be somewhat cute, and endearing. I don't, and have never really minded holding a screaming baby. I am secure enough to do what I can do, and if I can't make them happy, then I let them cry. I have even been generally patient with the toddler set and the tantrums that go along with that age group. I find that when I can't reason with them, I can be very good at ignoring the screaming until it stops.
My children, however have grown. My youngest son is now three years old. He would like to pretend that he is still a baby, and he often acts like a baby. I am much less sympathetic to his crying though, when I see that he stops every so often to check my reaction; And how hard he squeezes his eyes to make those few tears leak out. I also have a hard time when crying, tantrum throwing and etc have not disappeared as my boys have gotten older. My nine year old is still prone to waterworks when he can't get his way, and for me, the more they cry over something, the less likely I am to become sympathetic to their plight. The crying has turned into a way to manipulate me. Of course there are times when the tears are genuine, (I am not that jaded yet), but often its a way to try to push me in the direction they want me to go, and it doesn't ever work for them. I wonder if its just that first two years of training when we respond to their crying that makes them think that it will keep working, or if there are other wheels turning in their minds.
Crying isn't the only form of manipulation available to kids. Guilt is another big one. Just last night my six year old son came to me with this woefully sad expression on his face and a handful of change. "If I give you this money from my piggy bank will you let us play pictionary?" Of course he asks me right when I am in the middle of something, and his Dad is not home because he is out with two of the kids at Tae Kwon Do lessons. The living room isn't clean (a rule for game playing in general at our house is that the living room has to be clean), and the only other kids there are his nine year old brother, and the three year old that can't read or draw yet. So of course I declined his request and told him to wait for Daddy and the other boys to get home. Then he holds out the money and says "Please, just let us have some fun." I told him to put his money away and that he didn't have to pay me to let him have fun. After all he had plenty of toys to play with, and videos to watch, and crayons, pencils and papers to color with. Even while I was telling him that he didn't have to pay me to get to have fun, I was beginning to feel guilty. Was I not paying enough attention to them? Did we not have fun enough things to do? Should I take them outside or to the park more? Well-to tell you the truth I probably should take them outside and to the park more. I am not perfect. I was feeling pretty bad by the time I went to bed that night...pretty much like the worst parent on earth. My poor little kid was willing to give up all that loose change and tooth fairy money out of his piggy bank if I would just let him have...a...little....fun...! How horrible of me! Where have my priorities been? What could I do to make it up to him!
Then this morning, he came into my room, and he had a penny that his brother gave him. I told him to put it away with his piggy bank money, and this is what he says to me. "That money I tried to give you last night wasn't actually from my piggy bank. I found it in your room on the floor." Kind of puts things in a new perspective doesn't it? The kid was trying to bribe me with my own money, and I almost fell for it. Of course it did make me rethink my priorities and about spending more time with my kids, so it wasn't all bad, but still...I think I owe you an apology Dad. Maybe you were right, or maybe I have just joined you in your cynical and jaded point of view. Either way, I don't think you are a jerk, and I am sorry I ever did.
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