I Changed My Mind

As I prayed with Murphy tonight at bedtime, she concluded her God-bless list with, 'God bless the cockadoo (a new, favorite nonsense word of hers) and, YOU, Mama!' When Carter prayed, she asked God not to let Mommy or Daddy or Murphy or Baby Wright die. These sweet prayers followed one of my more challenging evenings as a parent, but back to the beginning...
I had high hopes for this Monday when it began with all three girls sleeping until after 8:00 AM. Then Carter and Murphy made it through breakfast with nary a harsh word, Carter went on to have a great morning at school, and Murphy had her most sweet side on full display. They spent the gorgeous afternoon outside and set up a much anticipated lemonade stand with friends. They played well together right up until dinner. In the midst of it all, Baby Wright had an equally good day taking great naps and being content to watch all the goings-on around her.
As dinnertime was coming to an end, things started taking a turn straight towards crazy town. Baby Wright was done with Bumbo-sitting and self-entertaining and ready for some focused attention. The big girls began mildly bickering and generally bouncing off the walls. As the day began slowly coming undone, I must admit that I did, too. We wrapped up dinner (Carter finishing hers and earning a brownie bite; Murphy eating pineapple, one bite of chicken, and two bites of a quesadilla), and headed  towards the bathtub. I gave Baby Wright a quick bath and then went to feed her while the big girls played together in the tub.
Splashing, screaming, and squealing were the sounds I heard coming from the bathroom as I nursed the baby and tried to help her relax for bedtime. At one point, the sounds became so loud and indiscernible that I headed into the bathroom, baby attached, to discover the girls were spitting large amounts of water out of their mouths at each other. I gave a stern warning and a few idle threats. As I was trying to wrap up nursing, I could hear that the energy level had amped back up. I then began verbally policing the girls through the wall. I was getting angry. And anxious. And irritated. And more angry. As I sat there, feeding the baby and listening to all the insanity, I made a decision: when I got the girls out of the tub, I was going to give each of then a spanking for their naughty behavior.
(Now, I have to deviate here for a second. I am not a spanker. Sure, I've swatted a fanny a few times, but spanking is not my go-to method of discipline. It may be for you, and that is fine. I don't judge your style of parenting, so please don't judge mine.  I aim to be deliberate in my parenting and intentional in making every consequence teach something. I cannot seem to reconcile what exactly I am teaching my children by hitting them when they don't do what I want them to do.)
Once I'd made this decision, I called my husband. I knew that I was angry and needed a second opinion from my Partner in Parenting as to whether or not a spanking was a rational and fair consequence for their behavior. He didn't answer. I kept nursing the baby, listening to the sounds from the bathroom, and becoming more and more irritated. I began to get an actual plan for how the spankings would take place, and I called my husband again. He still didn't answer. I tucked the baby into bed and headed into the bathroom, fully prepared to go through with my plan.
I was short and curt and demanding as I instructed the girls to get their hair washed and climb out of the tub: so much so that Carter reminded me that I was not saying 'please.' I wrapped them up in towels and combed out their hair. I lined my little lovelies up on the bathroom floor, sat down on their level, and I changed my mind.

They're good girls.

They stick together.

They love each other.

They make each other laugh.

Here's the thing: they were naughty, very naughty. 

(But doesn't leaving two already hyper children unattended in the bathtub 

just set up the perfect situation for silliness to get out of control?) 

Is there ever a time that spanking them may be appropriate and even necessary? 

Perhaps. But this was not that time. 

Were there consequences for the naughtiness? 

Yes. Early bedtime, no books, and no snuggles.

I don't have all the answers. Tonight, I trusted my intuition and chose not to respond out of anger or frustration. Like all Mommies, I'm learning as I go and am finding that I need as much grace as they do.

I'm glad I changed my mind. 

{God bless the cockadoo}