Saturday, January 11, 2014

Discipline

My husband and I parent exactly the same way, about totally different things.

As much of a frustration that is, I've come to realize that it's more of a blessing. We live in a household that does not spank, slap, use name calling or any other form of physical or verbal abuse. This is something J and I never really had a conversation about. It just is. And I am so thankful for that.

I had a conversation with a client the other day in which she told me about how her boyfriend (read: NOT the father of her child) had started trying to discipline her son in an effort to become more of a parental figure. She talked about locking doors and belts, and I felt ill. No way. No. Effing. Way. would that ever happen in my house. And thank whomever that I don't have to worry about establishing those kinds of boundaries with my husband. I trust J completely when he's alone with E, and when he's disciplining her, and I've come to realize that that is a luxury that a lot of people don't have.

When it comes down to it, most of the time, my "talks" with E are much more stern than J's, but I still can't help but go into mama bear mode when I hear him coming down on her. 98% of the time she totally deserves it, and 100% of the time J is well within anyone's definition of acceptable behaviour, but I can't help but panic at the thought that her psyche is being damaged if anyone but me is handing down punishment. It's one of my very few faults. Although I prefer to call them "intricacies".

In any case, it never ceases to amaze me how riled up J gets about mismatched socks and which movie to watch, while he easily turns a cheek at getting sassed up the wazoo or being deliberately deceived. I can't tell you how many times I've gotten the subliminal eye roll for enforcing polite and respectful behaviour while he loses his schmidt over the thought of being forced to endure an episode of Caillou. (Okay, I kind of get the Caillou thing.) I guess we can chalk another one up to the whole Mars/Venus theory.

So what was the point of this? Well, I suppose it's this: J gets mad about the weirdest stuff.
But at least we get mad the same way. `


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