Parenting Bart Simpson
Everything I learned about parenting I learned from episodes of The Simpsons! Not exactly true as I responsibly recount smatterings of Parenting With Love and Logic along the way; however, as sure as the streets of Portland (creator Matt Groening's hometown) point to Springfield's namesakes, I can't help but admit my admiration for the show's creativity has impacted my parenting style. At my wits end this past month with my boys' hormones on fire and my patience wearing thin during 'May End-of-School-Year Madness', I reached for a consequence. D'oh!! Bart and his chalkboard antics came to mind and I reminded my children that parenting their Bart Simpson behavior was also in my playbook!
Don't knock it until you try it! Seriously, parenting from a cartoon has its benefits. My children believe in the authenticity of sentence writing, having seen Bart's disdain for chalkboard punishment firsthand on T.V. Writing sentences on a notepad in the solace of your bedroom, separated from infuriated parents and siblings provides not only safety for the perpetrator, but time to reflect. Moreover, a cooling off period benefiting both sides is far more compassionate than the old-school spanking of which I was a recipient, in addition, it maintains my good humor as a parent!
As sure as teenage girls have emotional drama, teenage boys get emotionally physical, and pushing all our buttons is their forte. Just last week my 11-year-old son stole the front passenger seat of the car from his older 13-year-old brother, a gutsy little brother move on his part for sure! Predictably, his older brother proceeded to forcibly remove his brother's tennis shoe and toss it down the street in the hopes he'd chase it. Meanwhile, this mother of four with the bladder the size of a 5-year-old had just endured the longest midget little league game ever and was ready to drive home to a toilet that didn't resemble a toxic dump. Initially humorous, the situation escalated as my older son grew increasingly angry. Needless to say, I lost my mind and sense of humor, as my inner Marge Simpson screamed "grab the shoe and get in the backseat of the car before I pee my pants!" (God forbid, I sneeze from the pollen in the air.)
Unfortunately, my 13-year-old Bart Simpson was not empathetic to my plight. Dragging his feet to seize the tennis shoe, he used it to whack his younger seat-stealing brother in a rage I'd never seen before, while my 7-year-old dutifully observed the action in stunned silence from his five-point harness car seat vantage point. "Don't worry about your consequence buddy, I'll let you know when we get home," I barked, seething in anger and forgetting my calm love and logic demeanor of yesteryear. Wracking my brain as my 13-year-old talked back to me in spite, I literally pulled the car over, out of options and crossing my legs at one point to regain my clarity of thought.
Relieved to arrive home, and somewhat recovered with notebook in hand, I delivered two sentences to be written 29 times each to my teenage Bart's bedroom. I managed to calm down enough to tuck my other three children in bed, somewhat jealous my husband managed to escape the week on a business trip. My son, too stubborn to discuss the situation or apology, refused to look at me, so I decided to leave him to his devices, a pen and paper. I was confident he knew my position was unwavering and his behavior inexcusable, as I poured a glass of wine and put my feet up to decompose alone. Respect is huge in our house with no exceptions!
The next morning my 13-year-old son had arrived at breakfast smiling, a miraculous Jekyll and Hyde transformation. He delivered the apologies expected and we let it go; after all, everyone makes mistakes, it's what you learn from it that matters given time and space to reflect.
Parenting Bart Simpson's chalkboard lessons work at any age, as a matter of fact, if you adjust your expectations. Tried and true for almost a dozen years in my house! My 11-year-old received the same consequence just a few weeks prior having lied about a circumstance involving friends. He additionally exhausted his penmanship while being reminded that in our house you get in less trouble if you tell the truth up front before your CIA mom busts you anyway with elicitation skills. Small lessons to learn at an early age when the stakes are low.
As for me, I'll be grateful if I don't turn into Marge with a shrill voice and blue beehive hairdo as my children test my stamina. Thankfully my husband doesn't drink Duff beer yet either. Cheers to our family not always living up to Brady Bunch expectations. Ay, Caramba!
Don't knock it until you try it! Seriously, parenting from a cartoon has its benefits. My children believe in the authenticity of sentence writing, having seen Bart's disdain for chalkboard punishment firsthand on T.V. Writing sentences on a notepad in the solace of your bedroom, separated from infuriated parents and siblings provides not only safety for the perpetrator, but time to reflect. Moreover, a cooling off period benefiting both sides is far more compassionate than the old-school spanking of which I was a recipient, in addition, it maintains my good humor as a parent!
As sure as teenage girls have emotional drama, teenage boys get emotionally physical, and pushing all our buttons is their forte. Just last week my 11-year-old son stole the front passenger seat of the car from his older 13-year-old brother, a gutsy little brother move on his part for sure! Predictably, his older brother proceeded to forcibly remove his brother's tennis shoe and toss it down the street in the hopes he'd chase it. Meanwhile, this mother of four with the bladder the size of a 5-year-old had just endured the longest midget little league game ever and was ready to drive home to a toilet that didn't resemble a toxic dump. Initially humorous, the situation escalated as my older son grew increasingly angry. Needless to say, I lost my mind and sense of humor, as my inner Marge Simpson screamed "grab the shoe and get in the backseat of the car before I pee my pants!" (God forbid, I sneeze from the pollen in the air.)Unfortunately, my 13-year-old Bart Simpson was not empathetic to my plight. Dragging his feet to seize the tennis shoe, he used it to whack his younger seat-stealing brother in a rage I'd never seen before, while my 7-year-old dutifully observed the action in stunned silence from his five-point harness car seat vantage point. "Don't worry about your consequence buddy, I'll let you know when we get home," I barked, seething in anger and forgetting my calm love and logic demeanor of yesteryear. Wracking my brain as my 13-year-old talked back to me in spite, I literally pulled the car over, out of options and crossing my legs at one point to regain my clarity of thought.
Relieved to arrive home, and somewhat recovered with notebook in hand, I delivered two sentences to be written 29 times each to my teenage Bart's bedroom. I managed to calm down enough to tuck my other three children in bed, somewhat jealous my husband managed to escape the week on a business trip. My son, too stubborn to discuss the situation or apology, refused to look at me, so I decided to leave him to his devices, a pen and paper. I was confident he knew my position was unwavering and his behavior inexcusable, as I poured a glass of wine and put my feet up to decompose alone. Respect is huge in our house with no exceptions!
The next morning my 13-year-old son had arrived at breakfast smiling, a miraculous Jekyll and Hyde transformation. He delivered the apologies expected and we let it go; after all, everyone makes mistakes, it's what you learn from it that matters given time and space to reflect.
Parenting Bart Simpson's chalkboard lessons work at any age, as a matter of fact, if you adjust your expectations. Tried and true for almost a dozen years in my house! My 11-year-old received the same consequence just a few weeks prior having lied about a circumstance involving friends. He additionally exhausted his penmanship while being reminded that in our house you get in less trouble if you tell the truth up front before your CIA mom busts you anyway with elicitation skills. Small lessons to learn at an early age when the stakes are low.
As for me, I'll be grateful if I don't turn into Marge with a shrill voice and blue beehive hairdo as my children test my stamina. Thankfully my husband doesn't drink Duff beer yet either. Cheers to our family not always living up to Brady Bunch expectations. Ay, Caramba!
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