“Can I have this?”. Sure! “Can we go here?”. Let’s go. “Can I have 15 more minutes on the iPad?”. Well, we agreed those limits together, but yes go on an extra 15 minutes won’t harm.
Being a yes man, intially felt great. My foster son had walked into my life, scared, alone, unsure where his stable base was and I showered him with love, gifts and loose rules to suit him. I think that’s what the millennials call permissive parenting? Don’t quote me on that!
But as time went by and weeks rolled on, I began realising that I was letting this young lad rule the house. Where we went, what we did, what we ate for dinner.
He wasn’t doing this in a negative way, ANY child handed the keys to the kingdom is going to run it how they want! I thought I was doing him a favour, giving him a nice, easy life after the trauma he had faced.
I realised that I wasn’t actually doing him any favours. I thought I was making his life easier, but what he seemed to need from me was structure. Routine. Rules and expectations. I just wasn’t sure how to do that.
I tried chore charts – the first week went well, by the 2nd week it had been forgotten.
I tried saying no, but would ultimately let the adorable face and puppy dog eyes get the better of me. “Okay fine”.
The longer I let this continue, the harder I knew it was going to be to turn things around. Tonight was the night I stuck firmly to my guidelines — screen time, shower time, TV time and bedtime.
There were tears. There was screaming. There was kicking of walls. There were things being thrown around. It was hard. Probably one of the hardest nights since he came to me earlier this year.
But I stuck to my guns. I so wanted to give in, to ease those tears and give him what he wanted. But I knew if I kept giving in, that doesn’t lead down a great path for his future.
I’m sitting here writing this, exhausted. It doesn’t help that I’m battling man flu (it’s REAL guys!!), but I’m also proud of myself for sticking to my guns.
Because being the nice Dad is easy when saying yes keeps everyone happy. Being the Dad who says no when you know it’s the right thing to do? That’s a lot harder.
Tonight I learned that sometimes being a good Dad means being the bad guy for a little while. I wanted to be the safe, loving Dad so badly that I forgot that being safe also means being predictable.