Parenting

Today Tylie brought home a paper from school requesting that every parent get online and take a parenting survey for the school psychologist. Tylie was adamant that I get on ASAP because the class with the most surveys taken gets a rootbeer float party on the last day of school. Great. Add it to the "to-do" list. While both the boys were sleeping on snuck downstairs to take the survey. I wanted to make sure that I wasn't the parent that stopped the kids from ending their school year on a major sugar high.
I looked over the paper that was sent home and it was very clear that they wanted the questions answered on an individual basis. They wanted to know specifically about the child that attends the school. OK- Whatever. I thought this was all little overly dramatic. As the survey began I was slightly shocked. I thought it would be something about how I felt the school year went and where I believe Tylie to be on a progressive scale. This was not at all the case. It was a survey all about me and my parenting style. It was asking questions about what type of parent I believe myself to be. Authoritarian, authoritative, passive, etc. It asked what I do when my child throws a tantrum in public. It questioned how often I react without thinking or on impulse and how often I felt bad after I disciplined my child. With each question that I answered I couldn't help but think "I am so grateful this survey is about Tylie and not Mason!" I shutter to think about answering those questions honestly about Mason. I would probably have DCFS knocking on my door within 24 hours. I realize how different of a parent I am with Tylie vs. Mason. Tylie allows me to think through things before I react. Her problems are usually sneaky or after the fact. Tylie tattles on herself more often than not and it allows me to go back and fix things. Mason requires me to react like an A bomb. For example... Today after lunch I was sitting on the couch as Tylie showed me all of her end of the year project she got to bring home. Mason was supposed to be finishing his lunch and Cade was munching on his fruit puffs. Suddenly I hear a gagging sound and Mason reprimanding Cade for not eating his lunch. As I whipped around I see Mason shoving an entire chicken nugget in Cade's mouth and getting mad because Cade was trying to launch it back out. Did I act calmly and give Mason a warning to stop? NO! Did I gently guide him to the steps and tell him actions were inappropriate? Absolutely not. I snatched him before he even realized I had gotten off the couch. I swept out Cade's mouth to ensure he would be alive when I got back and marched Mason right to the stairs. I threw him on those stairs and walked away so I could gather my strength before beating him. OK, not really. But I had to walk away because I wanted to throw him out the door and deadbolt it. I get so frustrated, mostly because we have talked about him not feeding Cade everyday for about 4 months now and the thick-skull won't let it sink in. There must be something missing in the part of his brain that retains information. It is the same place that is supposed to hold the information about not going in the road or running in front of cars. That seems to get lost overnight no matter how many times he is grounded from his bike. I imagine that one day when I am dead and gone, my kids will be sitting around and genuinely start to wonder if the really had the same mom because I have to parent them so differently. My hope is that Tylie will look back and appreciate all those talks we had. She may even be able to recall a few. And I hope that Mason is sitting there with her. That means he made it or that he won the battle and I just died first. Either way- he will be there. I know that I will still love him then, I just have to make sure he knows it.