Them's the Rules
Written By Erin McKean
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#437 No whining on Tuesdays. #438 No crackers on the new sofa. #439. . . what? Of course I'm not just making these up...
Long before I became a parent, the one thing I'd always promised myself I would never, ever say was the dreaded "Because I'm your mother, and I say so." Now that I've got a 7-year-old, not having that phrase at my disposal means I have to come up with other ways to justify all the things I want Henry to do (or usually, not to do). So I've concocted some very specific (if unusual) "house" rules.
Our number one rule is in effect whenever we go anywhere; Henry can touch anything he likes, as long as 1) it's something an adult would also be allowed to touch, and 2) he touches it with only one finger. If I see his little hand moving toward a shiny object, I bark, "ONE FINGER!" and the potential grabby fist becomes a harmless gentle poke. If he breaks the one-finger rule? He has to spend the rest of our visit marching ahead of me with his hands clasped on top of his head. (Draconian? Sure. Do I need to enforce it often? Luckily for both of us, no.)
And because I'm a lexicographer, I want to avoid teaching Henry that some words are always bad. Of course, I don't want to have the foulest-mouthed kid in school, either. So our rule is that there are no bad words, just bad places to use those words. If Henry wants to talk about certain bodily functions, he can talk about them only in the bathroom. (This has led to him dragging us in there to tell us poop jokes.) The f-word and the s-word? Those are only appropriate in rock music, so he can't use them until he's a rock star. (Guess who's been practicing his guitar more often?)
Lately Henry's been asking to watch violent movies. After a 20-minute debate about whether he's be scared watching the uber-violent 300, I changed my argument: I wasn't worried that he'd be scared, not at all. I was concerned that he wouldn't understand what was going on. So of course he could see 300 — as soon as he wrote me a three-page-paper on the Battle of Thermopylae, (No 7-year-old wants anything that much, I can tell you.)
Eventually, Henry's going to see my "rules" for what they really are: desperate ways to ensure his good behavior. I'm hoping by then he also sees them as my sneaky attempts to make him think about things in context, rather than as black-or-white, yes-or-no situations...and, most importantly, that I'll be able to rattle off new rules a fast as he demonstrates new behavior that needs ruling.
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