"I Want Grandchildren, But Not Too Early" and other reasons why discipline is important.

People have told me a couple of times that they think I would be a really strict mother, and I'm going to go ahead and say that they aren't wrong. I'll certainly do my best not to become an overprotective shrew, but for crying out loud, my offspring will be DISCIPLINED. I like children, but in small, obedient doses. After four straight summers being a day camp counselor (read: glorified babysitter) for a group of age fours, I'll admit that I now like children in larger, longer doses, but gosh darn it, I still like them obedient. Nothing is shaping my potential future motherhood more than this job. I'll tell you right now that I could not imagine working with somebody else's children for the rest of my life. I have mad respect for preschool education teachers and teachers in general, because the job of teaching just seems so stifling and monotonous to me. As I mentioned a bit earlier, this is my FOURTH. STRAIGHT. SUMMER. working as a four year old counselor. The first summer wasn't that bad, as I was working in tandem with a friend, but each subsequent summer I die a little inside, wondering how in the world I will be able to make it through three months of this. It is because of my innate dread of monotony and teaching that I worked to discover some silver linings.

1. The potential for cuteness:

Aww, just look at that adorable, guileless little face!!! So cute, Lizzie!!! Don't you just want to work with kids all of the time now, just you that you, too, can see cuddly little faces like the one before you? By my estimation, at least 75% of the day camp kids are cute. The rest of them are either older kids or too bad to be cute. We'll get to those subjects in a moment.

2. Money:

Oh, don't look at me that way just because I was being honest. All right, so I'm not making so much money that I can wipe my butt with the small bills, but I do work forty hours a week and money is money, right? Penn ain't cheap, people. This is probably the best job I could have, considering its relative ease and the slack we get cut here. Wanna take a ridiculous amount of time off? Whatever, it's your money. Let me know or find your own sub. Wanna show up fifteen minutes late sometimes because your siblings have lost the ability to function (oh, those are good days--it means they aren't talking much, either)? Whatever, it's your money. Don't do it too often. You work with four year olds? Just watch them. Say nice things to them, pinch their cheeks, give them high fives. Color next to them and they will be soooo happy. Oh, also, they nap for two hours a day, so you can just go ahead and DO ALL SORTS OF QUIET THINGS with that free time!!! Really, if I didn't dislike this job, I would love this job.

3. The best lessons in what to do/what not to do. For free! CORRECTION. For MONEY!!!

That was the last money joke, I promise. For real, though, after having observed four year olds for far too much of my existence, I know exactly how I plan on raising my descendants. I figure once I get them to age four, they'll have been pretty well trained at that point and obedience will come as naturally as breathing! Those kids will be my responsibility! One of the biggest things I've learned is that four year olds can barely think properly, as they are so young that their brains are probably still a bit mushy in some places (Honestly, this is probably a lie, as I know nothing about science and will not bother trying to verify this statement). Regardless, who is to blame when kids that should be terrific go terribly wrong? THEIR PARENTS. Some of the business we get up in here, honestly.

Lesson #1: No means no.

Meet Alyssa. I told her to smile, but she just held that pose until after I took the picture. Whatevs.

Me: Alyssa, do not eat your chips until you have eaten your sandwich.

Alyssa: *eyeballs me* *slowly brings chip to mouth*

Me: Alyssa, put that chip down and pick up your sandwich.

Alyssa: *opens mouth wider, begins to insert chip*

Me: Alyssa!

Alyssa: *lets chip hover uncertainly* [I imagine her internal dialogue went something like this--*brings chip to mouth* I want my chips. Will she let me eat the chips if I try hard enough?*opens mouth wider, begins to insert chip* I wonder if she will put me in timeout if I eat the chip...*lets chip hover uncertainly*.

Clearly, someone has gotten away with this sort of thing before. I agree that it's a trifle of an issue at this point, but it starts with "Alyssa, don't eat that chip" and turns into "Juliet, don't date that boy!" and we all know how that story ends.

Lesson #2: No hitting, unless Mommy/Daddy is doing it for disciplinary purposes.

Meet the twins, Abigail and Isabel. The caption for this picture is the direct quote, "Giddyup, giddyup, moo!"

Me: Isabel! Keep your hands to yourself! No hitting, no kicking, no pinching, do you understand me?

Isabel: *nods*

Ten minutes later

Me: Isabel! What did we just talk about? Go sit in timeout. *Later* Isabel, you need to keep your hands to yourself. You are hurting people, and you are not obeying. God is happy when we obey, so you need to start obeying.

Isabel: *nods*

Ten minutes later to her twin sister

Me: Abby! What did I just tell Isabel?! No hitting!

Abby: *squirms in what I have come to recognize as agreement*

Ten minutes later

Me: ABBY! What did I JUST SAY?

Abby: But Belle is going sloooow...

Me: *inner frustration* Go sit in timeout.

Repeat every.single.day.

This is especially annoying. I tried sending a note home for the parents, but they never responded and I'm not seeing any real improvement, so I'm not sure what's happening there. They're twins, so I'm sure stuff like that flies at home. The problem is that they've started pushing the other kids, and the other kids have started pushing each other, etc. I am very displeased, and I will soon have to start pulling out the big guns. Gretchen Shaleen. A lovely woman and every small child's worst fear, as she is quite loud and startles them if they are not prepared, and they rarely are. Once again, minor pushing seems like nothing when you're only four years old, but it starts off as "Isabel, stop picking on your sister" and turns into "Cain, stop picking on your brother." Oh, I declare, another familiar story with a familiar ending.

Lesson #3: Respect your elders.

Meet the other Isabelle. Cute, right? Also bad, so there you go.

Mrs. Bridgers: No monkey bars! They are too big for you.

Isabelle: *proceeds to the monkey bars*

Mrs. Bridgers: Isabelle, no! Come here!

Isabelle: *stands there*

Mrs. Bridgers: Come here, Isabelle.

Isabelle: No!

Me: *Oooh, snap*

Mrs. Bridgers: *Retrieves Isabelle herself* We are not going on the monkey bars, do you understand me? Go play somewhere else.

Isabelle: No! *stomps foot* I want to play on the monkey bars!

She subsequently refused to sit in timeout, so I took her over to GRETCHEN SHALEEN. I can pretty much guarantee that my kids are going to be good at this one. One look at the Bray/Henry family and despite all of our other faults, respect to elders is heavily emphasized, with various accessories ranging from your standard belts and books, to new and interesting weapons such as flyswatters and the occasional tree branch if nothing else happens to be handy. I think this lesson is especially important, because it starts off as "Respect your elders or I will call the office and they will sent Gretchen Shaleen to you" and turns into "Respect your elders or I will call upon God and He will send two wild bears to maul you." I think everyone is familiar with the conclusion to this story as well.

In short, what child-rearing skills I didn't pick up from watching my younger brother and resolving that none of my sons will ever be nearly so ridiculous, I learned from summer day camp. I hope that this post has been informative, and that the things I have learned will be helpful to you as well as to me. Always remember, Train up your child in the way he should go, and he will have a longer life expectancy.

The next time I post about my kids I'll include cute picspams, okay?!