On Parenting

The one thing I cannot stand is how the black bourgeois assault the image of the the Black Father. It just really makes me physically ill. Tonight I did dad thing, which really is every night I have the 37lb boss man. What is the dad thing. Plead with my boy to eat his veggies, at 6:30, allow him some time to watch Nick Jr. (that's at 7:15) get him to the bath by 8:30, read the bedtime stories by 8:45, and tuck him in by 9:00PM. That said, three year olds are very detailed at bed time. Mine, oh he is highly aware of his last eats before he goes to bed. He must have, chocolate milk. Ok, thinking that the chocolate milk would seal the deal, oh no, he then sees the Ritz crackers, of which he must have at least an entire stack. This is where my life becomes a sitcom. He starts to grab the crackers and I'm like wait a second, you said you just wanted chocolate milk. Yes daddy I know but I have to have something to go with the milk don't I? Needless to say this sparked a minor debate, where he folded his arms and put his yellow tail on the floor with his back to the fridge saying nope. Okay-- I breath in and breath out and ask him is this is final decision. Needless to say he starts the silent treatment. Now when my back is turned this little boy tries to just take the crackers, the ski mask way. This is when I then become my parents circa 1970something. I know you didn't just do what I saw you do. -- In hindsight that possibly was one of the dumbest questions I asked for the week because I think I was just dumbfounded that he just overtly defied me. Damn. I can't get too angry --because really it's nothing to get bent out of shape about, but at the same time, I have to put the "mutiny" down. I pick up the boy, take the crackers and we head right upstairs. It's about 9:12PM when war has officially been declared. With boy hoisted over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he is literally kicking and screaming because he knows in his heart, dad's hip to the game. See this is what is more commonly known as give the inch, prepare to build an interstate. This really wasn't about the cracker, not even the chocolate milk, but more so about him extending his Nick Jr time. This boy of mine is a closet Machiavellian, the ends will justify the means. I am kinda impressed but I really can't let him know that because then he'll think he's running things. Crying at full blast, making a run to the door saying I'm hungry I'm hungry I'm like if you don't put that little rusty butt to that bed. -- Still more negative feedback-- now back in 1970something this is where the long white belt would just show up like pootytang my dad would have marked a damn Z in my back like Zorro. The white belt, the switch (especially the green ones) and the paddle would end all negative feed back and insure immediate compliance. But remember-- that was then, and this is now. This is the negotiating age for toddlers where we try to constructively defuse matters of this type. I know, right. But damn if were even to think about in house corporal punishment, you might want to have a defense attorney on standby. Anyway after I got him to calm down-- see i have learned how to use my voice like Mufassa the lion, I think he got the point he was fighting a loosing battle. But don't get it twisted, he didn't go down without a fight. At about 9:30, homeslice comes down the stairs saying Daddy I want you to go to sleep with me. Again, logic and reason are tested, the result -- boy take yourself back to bed. But daddy I need you. This is where the pick and choose the battles thing comes to mind. Fine, if it means he goes to bed in the 9:00 hour, lets compromise. So he's in the bed, I'm on the sofa and he is singing hey diddle diddle. Then a light comes on and he sees it.. Daddy, Daddy, the light came on, I have to go see what's going on.. It's here where my late grandfather GW is channled through me I hear myself saying- Boy if you don't put your butt back in that bed. Ain't nothing down there for you to see. If something is down there you better keep your but up here so what ever it is don't hurt you. He was quick to get to the door knob, but I think he finally got the point, keep you little yellow tail in the bed. By 9:45 he finally was snoring off. Parenting in 21st century-- Man, I am so glad I didn't do this when I was 20soething.