Teaching responsibility is not my forte. It's hard to teach a young man how to be responsible when I am not all that responsible myself. If I don't want to hang up my jacket, it doesn't get hung up and who is around to call me on it ....NOBODY. Besides, I am the boss so I can do whatever I want.
When R. was alive, being responsible was much easier. He had this "parent look" that made me want to hang up my jacket before I had to hear him nag me about it. It worked. It was wonderful.
Unfortunately the "parent look" doesn't come to me very easily. When I do attempt the look, I end up looking like a cross between Mr. T and Dog the Bounty Hunter. Which is really quite impressive if you really think about it, but not so effective on getting the soon-to-be seven year old to quit being so lazy.
EVILBOY's bedroom is becoming pretty dangerous. There are toys strewn about everywhere, drawers open with underoos hanging out for all to see, a Lego pile and Hot Wheels everywhere. When EVILBOY was away at my mother's house for a week, his room was spotless. Everything had a place to be put away and it didn't smell like Satan farted in there. Somehow, in the less than two weeks he has been home, his room has quickly become the dump it had been before he left. It doesn't take long for this boy to work his wonders on mess I tell ya.
When I ask him (sometimes nicely) to clean up his mess, the first thing he does is negotiates with me. He usually asks how many toys he has to clean up to be able to come out of his room. When I tell him he must clean them all up he gets angry and says "but that's boring!". It usually ends up in a battle in which he gets to come out of his room when dinner is ready and then shortly after that our bedtime routine begins.
Being tidy is not our only problem when it comes to responsibility. EVILBOY should have his own section in the school's lost and found box. Once a week I go down there and I can pull out a handful of items that are his easily. Sweaters, mittens, SNOW PANTS. I'm lucky to have some Mabel's Labels to identify his things, but it's still quite frustrating when I have to go down there to find his stuff all the time. It drives me crazy because I worship my things. I am beyond distressed when I lose something, so it blows my mind that he can go through life not even knowing that the sweater he wore on Monday is missing, the lunchbox he brought on Tuesday is nowhere to be found and on Wednesday he comes home wearing only ONE SOCK. I don't get it.
Please tell me there is an end to this phase. I am a complete failure when it comes to discipline. I can put him in his room to clean it but when he starts fussing about it I'm usually too tired to argue with him. I would much rather spend our time together having fun, but lately it's been butting heads over being responsible.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hello..this is my blog. I bought this fancy theme and I don't know what to write here just yet. Maybe one day remind me I have to write something inspiring here?