getting in trouble

Naughtiest child in the house at the moment?

True. Definitely True.

It's a cyclic thing around here. Usually the boys pretty much take turns, and the boys who are not currently the record holder for naughty behaviour enjoy what Huz and I call, 'taking the high road' which usually (but not always) includes frequent reminders to naughty child exactly why they are being naughty, and to watch out because they don't want another time out believe you me, and an array of other haughty-taughty 'holier-than-thou' kinda vibes get put out there too.

It'll only be a day or so until the roles reverse. Then aforementioned naughty child is 'taking the high road' and 'holier-than-thou' child is humbled and now deemed the naughty one.

Being 6 must be pretty hard cos True has been the naughty child for a little longer than the regular 1-2 day spectrum.

It can't help that he's smart enough to at times call my bluff as I attempt to discipline from the couch (!). Suppose it only takes a little while to see that whilst Mum sounds cross, looks cross and is demanding he goes to time out…well..now…what's she really going to actually do about it. Get up? Ha! She hasn't moved for a week now! She's not likely to waste her first move on hauling my sorry self to time out he thinks.

But this time he was mistaken. oh yes. Mum moved.

Perhaps it was the pent up emotion of being on that couch for so long. Perhaps it was the cheeky smile True gave me followed up by his signature scowl. Whatever it was, I had decided the offence demanded a smack. On the hand. Right here right now. That'll learn him.

So True begs me not to. 'I'm sorry Mum, really I'm sorry'. 'It's too late' I reply. 'When Mummy asks you to go to time out you don't argue' and with that I go to smack his palm…and pretty much completely miss. 

There is no satisfying sound. 

There is no lesson learned. 

There is still a little hand waiting for it's punishment.

There is just this feeling welling up in me wanting to burst out laughing. It's ridiculous all this being sick all the time and all this staggering off the couch, and all this failing, all this missing the mark.

All it takes is True looking at me with his big eyelashes a little confused, and my gaffawing laughter has me with head thrown back.

Poor True. He's confused. Then I draw him close and we cuddle and laugh. Just keep cuddling and we're still laughing.

Oh dear. What have I done.

Could this all be a little scarring? I mean, discipline is serious. Discipline is all about my True respecting adults and behaving appropriately, and I've just gone and ruined six years of…of…well of something important.

So that was that. Me back to my couch and True to playing with the cars.

It's such a beautiful mess this life of mine. Such a beautiful, blessed, messy messy life.

I am more than blessed.