restraint

i can already tell my children's teenage years are going to be especially challenging for me as a parent. our kids are undoubtedly going to make as many mistakes as i did when i was younger, and it's going to take every ounce of my strength to refrain from commenting and just let them go. and then they can look back a few years later and marvel at how their mother didn't insist on removing the aqua net hairspray can from the bathroom to prevent the huge birdnest bangs from being constructed on their forehead let them learn from their mistakes. thankfully, that time has not yet come, because my parenting experience only goes back four and a half years, and i still have much to learn. and on saturday, in the middle of the toy store, i just couldn't hold back. i had to weigh in on a grave error my son was about to make. liam has been earning a daily allowance for a few months now. he has seven chores he must do every day, and we pay him a whopping nickel for each one. and after we dole out the coins to him, he's required to put one immediately in a special box for the church offering plate the following sunday. which really means that he nets a maximum of $2.10 a week. needless to say, it's taken him quite a while to save up enough to make a trip to the toy store worthwhile. but on saturday, the time had arrived. he had informed everyone he saw last week -- teachers, classmates, neighbors -- that he was taking his cash and going on a shopping spree at tookie's toys. the four of us piled in the car and headed over, unsure of what we might be returning with, but excited all the same. he walked in, wide-eyed at the world of possibility. when liam talks about the abstract concept of heaven, i'm pretty sure that he's conjuring up the image of tookie's toys, this independently-owned toy store in a fun shopping center near us. but amidst all the wonderful items in there ... he bypassed it all and headed straight to the dadgum car section. now, before i go any further, let me just say that we could open up our own toy store that specializes solely in cars. he has almost 100 matchbox cars. a parking garage with its own type of car. a racetrack with its own type of car. big ones, small ones. ones that make noise, ones that don't. i could go on but i find the whole subject rather boring, so i won't. and yet, there he was, in a sea of enticing prospects, and he snatches up yet another police cruiser and starts heading to the cash register. he had enough money and he seemed quite sure of himself. chris shrugged; he seemed to be drawing from some impressive supply of restraint. i do not have such a supply. "don't you want to look for something different?" i encouraged. "ooh -- look here! some cool bubble tools. those would be neat out in the yard. or ... wow! what a fun balloon toy! we don't have anything like that." with each suggestion, he'd clutch the police cruiser even tighter, steadfast in his choice. and i just couldn't do it. i couldn't let my son, fresh off three months of hard work, drop his life savings (literally) on yet another toy vehicle. and so i turned into I Have Your Best Interests In Mind Mommy. i put the cruiser back on the shelf, steered him towards the outdoor toy section, and talked up a "stomp rocket" until i was hoarse. i honestly think i could be a salesperson for their company, i was so convincing. and finally, he relented. we spent two hours after we got home playing with that thing. several of our neighbors even walked over as we tested it out in the cul-de-sac, and had as much fun with it as liam did. four days later, he's still racing to it as soon as we get home, eager to play with it some more. far better than some dumb police car, don't you think? in one actual action of restraint, i have managed not to utter the words, "i told you so" to my son. but i think just by virtue of being a mother, that's implied.