I’ve said it before, technology is a parent’s dream when it comes to looking for things to take away from misbehaving kids. Only if a situation comes up, of course. I’m not a monster. But with two daughters, ages fifteen and twelve, I’m forced to be a “mean mom” sometimes. A role I’m comfortable playing. After all, I can’t let THESE people get away with behavior that’s down right disrespectful.

The other night, we had a little situation come up. One that didn’t bring out the best in any of us.

Our daughter, Avi, who is twelve, wasn’t acting in an appropriate manner. I’d given her a couple of opportunities to “do the right thing,” but finally I’d had it. My patience was decreasing, and she’d pushed me over the edge. I’m not a Saint. And she isn’t either.

“Go get your phone,” I said, “And bring it to me NOW.”

I was trying to maintain a calm and neutral, Switzerland like composure, but it was hard. Very hard.

With tears streaming down her face, she stomped upstairs, got her phone, and brought it to me. I noticed that it took a little longer than she normally takes to climb the stairs and retrieve her phone, but I assumed her delay was to maximize the dramatic affect. If there was an award for dramatic interpretation, she’d win it. Every time. She was acting like I was locking her in a tiny box, and sucking the air out. 

When I take technology away, I like to put it in my room, on my night table.

My kids know this. In the past, I’ve hidden their technology in a secret drawer or closet shelf, but we had an issue of me forgetting where I’d put it. So I just keep it on my night table.

Avi brought me her phone, and I went and put it in my room.

The evening progressed, and things were going well. We had an enjoyable night, and Jon and I were happy to see that Avi had in fact done what we wanted her to do. She was being the delightful child we’d raised her to be.

I was in an especially good mood, basking in my parenting skills, and decided to give her phone back to her. We talked about what she’d done, why I took it away, and how she’d earned it back. We were confident she’d learned her lesson.

I went and got her phone, and when I gave it back to her, she sprang some interesting news on me.

News I wasn’t expecting.

“I’m glad I got it back, Mom,” She said with a sly look on her face. “I was starting to feel a little guilty. You see, I actually set the alarm to go off every half hour, starting at 3:00AM, all night long. And really loudly.”

Are you kidding me?

Do you know what that would have done to my heart, if that phone had gone off right by my head, when I was in my deep, relaxed, sleeping splendor?

I tried to act mad, but honestly, I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a pretty good play, I had to admit, especially since it never actually occurred.

Find meaning each day,

Dara