Out of Control

I wish I could say that I could control my children, but I can't. I can:

• attempt to diffuse a situation;
• redirect their attention;
• reason with them
• threaten them;
• make them cry;
• carry them, drag them, restrain them or in some other physical manner force them to do/not do something;
• teach them positive behavior;
• and beg, cry, or yell.

And yet, only occasionally can get I them to comply.

Both of my girls are fiercely independent. They are their own people. They react to things in their own way. Not necessarily the way I taught them or the way the Hoos or I would.

They are growing up, but still babies. They have no filter. They say things that mortify me. They do things that mortify me. They don't know better.

There are physical and emotional benefits to being a child. Things don't hurt as much. A hard crack to my nose with the back of their head? Hurts me. A lot. They don't even notice. A hurtful comment from a friend? Sad for about three seconds until something else comes along. LP relayed a story to me yesterday that made me sad for her. She didn't even realize she could or should be sad.

I can't control them. But I can love them.