There are a lot of days in one year. A paltry 20 days into my 365-day commitment, I am already panicking that my ideas will run out before the year does. So as I am planning ways to stretch my limits for the rest of the year, I thought I would ask your opinion.
Do you have a double-dog dare for me? Go to my Dare me! page and tell me what it is. If it is legal, doesn’t hurt anybody, is fiscally reasonable, and doesn’t endanger my children or my continued ability to parent them, I just might do it.
In other news, today I managed a small step toward trusting that my children will be ok even when everything doesn’t go according to plan.
My nine-year-old has been working toward a reading goal – reading all 10 Nutmeg books. To sweeten the deal (and keep her moving), I promised her a new outfit if she reads them before I do. Sadly, clothes are what she wants most. At age nine.
Anyway, whooping your mom’s butt is a good time at any age. She was really enthusiastic about the contest and maintained an easy lead until she got to the last book, which she does NOT like. So today I tried to get her excited again (read “trash talked her, but in a playful way”), but it became clear that she was completely stressed out. There were tears.
Feel free to submit your mother-of-the-year nominations at any time.
After lots of hugs, I swallowed my concerns about teaching her to bail on commitments, run from challenges, etc., and completely backed off. Summertime is not the time for stress, and reaching this particular goal will not determine anything meaningful about her future.
I told her to forget the contest, but understandably she didn’t want to quit after getting 95% of the way there. So we decided she could substitute some other reading for the last book and still have a shot at winning. She was extremely happy.
Clearly I need to work on recognizing the distinction between motivating my kids and torturing them. Sigh.