slacker mom confessionals

it's a balmy 77 degrees out. slight breeze. clear, blue skies. i have set my fold-out chair with attached fold-out canopy out in the driveway. my knitting basket is by me and i'm preparing to finish a few rounds while performing my dutiful mommy duty of watching my kids as they ride around on their bikes on the street.

about 40 stitches into my 4th row, i am regaled by stomping and pounding and a raising of voices that soon escalates into a full-blown screaming match. i'm counting stitches and i feel myself becoming irritated that i have to referee yet another fight between the kiddos, losing my count in the process.

then i remembered confessions of a slacker mom, a book i finished in the hour it took me to finally come down from my 2-shot frappucino high (3 o'clock in the morning, after having watched the midnight show of the last HP movie; more on that in a later post). and thus, thinking of the wise words of ms. mead-ferro, i simply sat in my fold-out chair, continued counting and knitting, and proceeded to let the little drama play itself out.

after not very long since the first angry remark, the two did indeed come running up to me, their little tattletale faces at the ready. i shook my head curtly and commanded them to "work things out" without looking up from my knitting. what followed next was a 20-minute exchange that i wish i could've captured with the school ipad. it was an oscar-worthy performance on both parts - every word fraught with righteous wrath, every inflection laced with outrage. as i listened, i was filled half with amusement and half with awe - sure, my children were screaming at the top of their lungs but it was what they were screaming at each other that was amazing. they sounded like two little adults, slinging well-articulated, SAT vocabulary-riddled sentences at each other like seasoned politicians. aly was using the power of pathos, invoking her hurt feelings; dylan was throwing around ethos, stating he needed to be listened to as the older brother. soon the two of them were at it with the logos of children, going back and forth with "well, you do this!" and "you do that too!" but they were still being very intelligent and logical about their arguments. it made my english major soul proud, i tell ya.

but it wasn't the precocious use of language that awed me. it was the end result. after 20 minutes of being banshees, my kids worked it out. all on their own. i'm not kidding. they hugged each other - gasp! - swore they'd never fight again, then came to me to announce their resolution with very sincere, determined expressions. sure, it took 20 minutes. sure, the whole neighborhood heard our business. sure, i probably looked like the most neglectful mother, just serenely sitting in a chair and knitting while world war three broke loose around me. but waiting paid off. i didn't have to raise my voice. i didn't have to worry about taking sides or hurting one or the other's feelings by doing so. i didn't have to stop what i was doing. the kids regulated themselves. i was practicing the art of slacker mom-hood, and whaddaya know? it worked.

i'm glad my MIL and my husband weren't around. it wouldn't have worked had they been because they wouldn't have let it go on for as long as i did; they would've interfered at the first sign of an altercation. at the risk of sounding judgy, i have to say that perhaps this iron-fisted, traditional, "grown ups know best" approach may not be the best solution all the time. it seems like it requires a lot of energy and effort on the grown ups' part, and it takes away the responsibility and problem solving ability away from the very people who should be owning up to both.

i dunno. to each his own. and i'm sure the mommies that read my blog will have loads to say about this. but damn if i don't feel energized and invigorated and proud of what i'd just witnessed. this slacker mom business may just revolutionize life for the edwards clan. at the very least, i'll be able to finish tons of knitting projects.