As you parent your child, try to remember that it’s not all about you. Babies are born with their characters, their egos, and there’s only so far “training” will go in the face of that. It’s important to adapt your style to the personality your child was born with. I don’t mean spoil them. I mean certain modes of discipline and explanation simply will not work for one type of personality, while it will be foolproof for another. My twins are a perfect example of this. Trying to consistently discipline the babies in a way that they understand and that also shows a united front when it comes to misbehavior is incredibly difficult, at least for me.
Anyway, since I haven’t quite figured that one out yet, here are two short stories, both occuring last night, that show the difference between my children and how they listen and relate to me.
“Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, purple milk, mommy, mommy, purple milk, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mama, mama, mama, mama, mommy, mommy, purple milk, purple milk, mommy, mommy, mommy, mama, mama, mama, mama, mama, mama, purple milk, mommy, mommy, moooooooooooomy, mommy, mama, mama, purple milk, mommy, moooooooooooooooooooomy…”
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Yes, please. Purple milk.”
I died laughing. She didn’t tantrum, she was just pleased that I finally deigned to give her attention and directed me to what she wanted, assuming I simply hadn’t heard her broken record. She got her milk in the purple container.
My husband and I are outside near the porch area. The babies (children for those of you who are specific) are inside, getting into trouble. They’ve each taken a roll of plastic wrap from the container, and they’re standing in the house, in front of the opened glass door, picking little pieces of wrap off the roll.
“Hey, babies,” my husband says, “don’t do that. Go put those back in the drawer.”
Dulce freezes. Natalina looks up at us for a moment, motionless. Then she smiles a little. And slides the glass door shut on us.
We died laughing. She didn’t want to hear that kind of nonsense, so she solved the problem by removing us from the situation.
Dulce, by the way, put her roll back in the drawer.
My daughters are so different, even though they are identical twins. I’m still trying to find ways to relate to them as their individual natures come out more and more.
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