Eating My Words

I've learned in my short time being a Mom that I should never say what I won't do. Or what my kids won't do. I should permanently remove "I will never let my kids..." or "You'll never see my kids..." from my vocabulary. My children have caused me to eat a whole lot of words. A belly full. But today I did something I never, ever thought I would do. I put a leash on my child. Yes, a leash. I swore I would never be one of those parents. The kind who can't control her own child and therefore must revert to slapping a harness around her child. No, not me. Never. And then I had Jack. Leashes were invented for Jack. G-Ma gave me a cute monkey leash when Sam was little. Needless to say, it has never been used. Until today. We took the boys to a carnival downtown and I broke out the leash. I envisioned Jack running wild down main street or getting snatched by some shady carnival worker. So we put the leash on...and my poor child was so humiliated.

He fought the leash with all his might, struggling to unhook the buckles. Jody held tight to little Jack, our embarrassed wild child.
Cade, who desperately wants a pet, thought the leash was about the coolest thing ever. He could actually walk his little cousin around like a dog. Cade was thrilled to lead him around and Jack seemed a little less bothered to be dragged around by his cousin.
Thankfully, we only had to leave the leash on for about five minutes. That's all it took to put the fear of restraint in him. He stuck close to the crowd the rest of the evening and didn't get in trouble at all. Maybe the leash is my new discipline tool. Some Moms I know carry a wooden spoon around and flash it when they need to. I'll be the Mom who whips out the leash. And keeps eating my words.