Why am I always the Bad Cop?

I am definitely the meanie disciplinarian in our house, and J is the cool parent. Sure, sometimes I’m cool, and sometimes I’m fun, but he never, ok, rarely, disciplines the girls or tells them when they are doing something wrong. In fact, he often encourages behavior, albeit fun stuff, that I eventually have to put a stop to or forbid. He riles them up at bedtime and then makes the Debbie Downer ‘Wa-waaaa’ sound when I suggest they need to calm down. He tells M how good a jumper she is when she flies off the couch. Guess who has to step in and tell her that, while she is an amazing jumper, it is not safe or acceptable to do so? “Wa-waaaaa,” says my 4 y/o. That’s nice. Guess who taught her that?

This weekend, J hit a new low in making me look like the bad guy. He was singing a song and was trying to teach M the words. He’d sing, then she’d copy. Really cute. Before he realized it, ‘Damn’ slipped out of his mouth. Part of the song, yes, but not necessarily something we want her repeating. You know how he blamed me corrected this? “M, I don’t think Mommy likes you saying that word.” Excuse me, do YOU like her saying that word? Say it with me, ‘We’ – “We don’t really like that word.” It’s only one small syllable. I know I’ve heard him say it before. “We think you should step away from that large snake.” “We would like you to stop painting your sister.” It’s not difficult. It puts some of the blame on me, and even when it it is completely undeserved, I’m ok with it.

There was also the mountain of pillows that she wanted to try to balance on – on the couch – that I had to outlaw. How about the “Fart, fart, poop, poop” song that J thinks is hilarious to teach a child while I am trying to teach her about proper behavior? Last night, she showed me that she could jump from one bed to another. “Daddy taught me!” Of course he did. It’s a great trick. It looks like fun. Did Daddy see that you almost missed the bed and jumped head first into the dresser? Doubt it.

Pretty much the story of my life. I’m the Fun-sponge. I suck the joy out of everything. “Mommy says no.” “Mommy doesn’t like you doing that.” “Mommy said matches and knives are dangerous.” Mommy sounds like a big old wet blanket. Waa-Waaaaaa.

Related posts:

1. When Daddy wishes she would NOT use her words…
2. The wrench in my already rusty gears…
3. The post where I swear a lot.

Tagged as: dad, mom, playing