November 12, 2009

Your Assignment, Should You Choose to Accept - 11/12/09

It's time again to participate with the prompts at Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. Here are the prompts:

1.) Describe the best/most creative punishment you have ever given your children or received yourself.

2.) Tell a friend or family members story as if it happened to you.

3.)
Tell a story about a moment in time when you were so happy you were you and not someone else in the room.

4.) I picked up the phone and I could not believe what I was hearing...

5.) Show us something you did yourself!

This week, I decided to do prompts #1 and #3, but I'm putting a June Freaking Cleaver spin on them.

Describe the best/most creative punishment you have ever given your children or received yourself.

Today, I am focusing on a creative way I determined which one of my daughters perpetuated a crime (the guilty must be identified before punishment is meted out).

Into the Way Back Machine...Shannon and Erin were about 8 and 6 years old, respectively. One of the little imps had done something that I have long ago forgotten I didn't much care for.

Anyway, I needed to find out which one of my little miscreants girls was responsible for the mess and or infraction of Mommy law.

I first decided the direct approach, and asked "Who did this?" I got the customary chorus of "Not me".

Remember, there are TWO of them. I told them that I wasn't really angry, I was curious. Nobody would be getting punished - I just wanted to know who did the deed.

I asked them both to close their eyes. Then I asked the guilty party to raise their hand, so I would know who was responsible.

Remember, TWO of them. If one didn't do it, the other must have. And they each knew if they did it or not.

These two sweet, yet goofy, girls of mine complied with my instructions - and one of them raised her guilty hand into the air.

Satisfied that I had solved the crime, I still had a nagging feeling that maybe they weren't as clever as I imagined them to be.

Until their next raucous crime spree...

Tell a story about a moment in time when you were so happy you were you and not someone else in the room.

I'm going to change this prompt up a bit, too. Instead of a moment in time, I'm going to generalize, big time.

Being the mother of a child with developmental disabilities and a mental illness is an interesting gig. It turned all of my previous motherhood experiences upside down.

And although I wish The Boy could have a more typical childhood, I'm often glad that I am NOT those other parents.

I DON'T have to chauffeur The Boy to play dates and sporting events and after school activities - there aren't any. Think of the road rage I'm not having, and the gas I'm not wasting. Lucky me!

Noisy kids running through the house? Bickering? Preparing snacks for a houseful of unruly teenagers? Nope, not me. The house is relatively quiet - except for the constant droning of DVDs, and the commentaries contained in the Special Features section. I only have to be sure that there is a battalion's worth of food for The Boy. We're so fortunate!

Shopping at the mall? Kids needing the latest fashions, the coolest toys? Not here! The Boy has quite a collection of sarcastic T-shirts, which we usually snag at Target or Wal-Mart. He has his own interests, so he's not all caught up in the latest and greatest trends. I hate shopping in general, and malls, specifically, so this works for me!

Sports? I will never suffer from terminal bleacher butt again. The Boy has no interest in sports. When I signed him up for Tee Ball, he told the coach that he felt homework was more important, and quit during practice.

A few years ago, I signed him up for Wrestling. Even though he was the biggest kid in the gym, the little guys were throwing him all over the mat. Everytime he'd attempt a takedown move, he'd apologize to his opponent. Sensing weakness, the smaller child would make his move, and pin The Boy in record time. Think of the money I've saved in uniforms and sporting supplies!

And I'm not complaining. I LIKE The Boy. A lot. I "get" him, most of the time. He can be the most loving child. He's special...he's so special, the short bus comes right to the door twice a day to get him to and from school.

Sure, there are plenty of challenges, and loads of worry. To quote John and Kate Plus Eight: "It's a crazy life, but it's OUR life." Thus ends the comparison, thank God!

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8 comments:

  1. I love the first story! I'm the only child so I never had a partner in crime. I always got the blame!

    Stopped by from Mama's Losin' It

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  2. Bleacher Butt? Wow - I just realized why my ass is so big! Now that the boys are grown, perhaps it can be undone???? Oh wait, soon there will be grandchildren to watch and the BB syndrome begins again. So why bother!

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  3. Like the way you handled the issue with your girls. It was a good idea to have them close their eyes. I noticed my son is lying alot lately. ugh.

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  4. Now if it had been my brother and I rather than your two girls, I can guarantee that the only hands lifted would have been to point at the other!

    BTW, the solution for BB is BC (Bleacher Chair). {*grin*} Although I do have to admit it gets harder and harder the older I get to carry my recliner up those stairs to watch the games.

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  5. With 4 boys who think they need to be in every sport, Im sure I will have a bad case of bleacher butt.

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  6. Oh I am so going to use that 1st one when the boys get older!

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  7. I don't have to do the sports thing with my 2 either. What excuse can I use for my butt?

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  8. The little imps..I may need to borrow that phrase!

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Thanks for stopping by. I love your comments...I get all warm inside just reading them!