It seems the older a child gets, the more they feel entitled to. My
3-year-old Kael documents this well with his current fascination with
the number three. We made homemade pizza this evening, and when the
pepperoni came out he let us know his rights: “I need three pepperonis,
‘cause I’m 3.”
Though he still pronounces 3 “sree,” this is just
one bargaining chip the little genius has picked up to help him with his
supposed entitlements. I’ll grant the kid “life, love and the pursuit
of happiness,” but beyond Constitutional entitlements, the kid’s really
not guaranteed a lot.
That doesn’t mean I don’t entreat him to
some of his arguments. If I’m in a good mood, and I don’t think his
requests are too far off base, I’ll usually grant them. Three big greasy
pepperonis? Definitely needs to catch me in the right mood. Three
M&M’s? I’ll usually hook him up. When he asked for three pieces
of pizza after I sliced the finished product up, I told him no initially
before I got my wicked parent grin on and sliced the single piece I’d
already gotten him into three smaller pieces. The kid was happy and
nothing really changed.
Problem is, he’s smart. For a 3-year-old
kid, he puts up some pretty sophisticated arguments sometimes. I just
envision myself in ten years when he’s a teenager and sounds like a mini
prosecution lawyer when I don’t give him his way like I did when he was
just 3 years old.
It’s that mental fast forward button I have
that often makes me say “no” even when I think it’s harmless. I think
establishing a role as a loving provider who is able to say “no” without
questions asked is important when they’re young. If the guidelines are
set when the child really has no say in outcomes, the guidelines are
much more likely to stick into teenage years and beyond.
Saying
“yes” too often to invalid arguments could land you in trouble. Though
farcical, I think of a scenario with a teenaged boy coming home and
saying, “Dad, I need 16 cars.”
Me: laughs.
Kid: “This is serious, Dad.”
Me: “Everything is serious at your age. But fine, I’ll hear the nonsense argument you have.”
Kid: “Here goes. I need 16 cars because,” (bet you know what’s coming) “I’m 16.”
Me:
Laughs uncontrollably. “Boy, that argument hardly ever worked back when
you were little and cute. It’s not going to get you one car now, much
less 16 of ‘em.”
Kid: “You’re ruining my life!”
Me: “That’s what you said when you turned 6 and I told you you couldn’t have 6 baseball gloves.”
Kid: “Really? I wanted 6 baseball gloves? I don’t even like baseball.”
Me: “You should probably stop liking cars too because this argument’s leading down the same road.”
Yeah
I’m sure there’s no son that doesn’t belong to Brad Pitt and Angelina
Jolie that would actually use that argument for 16 cars, but you see my
point. A parent has the right to say “no” at any age to any request. By
virtue of the fact we have raised the child the best we know how, we’ve
earned that entitlement. But no age, whether 3 or 13, comes with an
entitlement from parent to child.
So I guess my point is to know
when to say “no” to a kid. Yeah, many requests are harmless, especially
coming from the innocent mouth of a 3-year-old boy convinced that 3
pepperonis will make him grow big and strong like Daddy. But I don’t
want to plant myself behind a wall of precedent where I find I can no
longer reasonably say “no” to unreasonable requests from my children.
For
a while, when we went to a certain store, we loved to see how our kids
lit up when we got them a $1 Hot Wheels car every now and then. Pretty
soon, we found we could no longer go to that store without them feeling
like they got to walk out of the store with a brand new toy. The magic
was lost to the spirit of entitlement. Saying “no” became difficult and I
found I was becoming one of those parents I have always abhorred that
will let their spoiled brats pick out a toy every time they are in a
store.
Let’s just say this is not a pleasant corner to paint
yourself into. We have since made severe course corrections, and have
devised methods to make sure they know they are entitled to nothing at
the store. So maybe next time your child comes to you with a request,
ask yourself if it will put you in a scenario where giving in will
become habitual. Maybe a “no” should come out, even if the kid is just
asking for “sree gummy bears, ‘cause I’m sree.”
