I need a new job title. Irritant. Possibly – Irritant Extraordinaire. And if the Louboutin fits…
The “Irritant” Job Description
What’s involved? Actual job duties? Here is a partial list (ADA and FDA-approved): cooking, cleaning, coercing; mega mountains of laundry, avoiding aforementioned laundry; counseling (whether the participant is willing or not), coaxing (a word or two?), lecturing (because something gets absorbed, however stony the reception); chauffeuring, showcasing, showboating; piles of patience (while your heart is pounding, your palms are sweating, your hair is graying, your blood pressure, rising), not to mention naysaying, negotiating, persuading, motivating, monitoring, measuring, and slowly backing off.
Care for the succinct version?
The gist of the list
Advance from Point A to Point R. No skipping allowed. That’s 18 letters of the alphabet. Consider each letter one year, which adds up to (drum roll please)… raising a kid!
Think it’s easy to master this role? Think again. Here are just a few of the essential KSAs, also known as Knowledge, Skills, and Abilities.
- Tough skin – a must.
- Mind like a steel trap – a gotta.
- Jacqueline of all trades – was there any doubt?
- Voice range, booming to whisper – a plus.
- Ability to not lose lists – a plus.
- Boat loads of perseverance – advantageous.
- Padded Room, Screaming Closet, Wine Cellar – critical.
Persistent parenting = perpetuating potential
Should I say my career as an Irritant, which may also be construed as parenting an adolescent? (I dare say the same rules apply when dealing with precocious tweens. And possibly toddlers, sans worries about sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll.)
More detail on the job content?
I nag, I nudge, I nurture (from a distance). I remind, I reiterate, I regurgitate (lessons of Import that are being Ignored, or make that Persistent Parent Being Ignored, yes, there ought to be an acronym and surely it’s a syndrome).
But all is not Ignominious.
My recipe for success?
The secret to my success as an effective and insistent Irritant?
Food.
Food in serious quantities, painstakingly provided, on a regular basis. Food as bribery (so they will sit and listen). Food as tranquilizer (to calm the hormonal heathen). Food so they grow taller than you (okay, I know, anyone over the age of eight is taller than I am).
Food tames the teenage temper, soothes the savage soul, slows him, distracts him, and allows the Irritant Extraordinaire to get on with the job at hand.
And the Irritant must properly nourish herself as well. Do you think Keeper of Sanity During Roller Coaster Times is easy? Unfortunately, most of us don’t possess the Private Padded Room, the Screaming Closet, or for that matter, a wine cellar. Not even a wine cooler! So best to eat right so you can duke it out (argument-wise), stick it out (irritant-wise), and muddle along with the job of raising kids – and whatever else you do in life that isn’t nearly as round-the-clock challenging. My personal faves for Irritant and recipient of her skills: red meat (no vegetarians here), salmon, spinach, a variety of veggies, and the all-important glass of Pinot Noir. (For moi, not him!)
Proof is in the pudding (or the steak au poivre)
Steak au poivre? Pommes de terre sautées?
My headstrong progeny is much more amenable to reason following a perfect plate to please his palate. A nice fillet – specifically steak au poivre. And really, who can blame him? Which is exactly why we dined on just that, last night, as this Irritant Extraordinaire saw serious strides in tending to tasks from second son. Carrot and the stick?
More like carrot and the carrot cake.
So true, being a nag/irritant at times is so unavoidable in parenting, but I love that you found a way to engage with your son when needed most. “The proof of the pudding is in the eating” seems also to be an appropriate proverb for engaged parents in general: actions speak louder than words or our true test as quality parents is to really experience parenting fully? To validate what they are going through and really listen to our kids to understand their needs and act appropriately for them, is hard but oh, so fullfilling when we get it right.
Nice to have you here. And I couldn’t agree more, Jen!
Wow, that looks really good. It’s true, the right food can be a wonderful motivator. I don’t have a wine cooler or cellar or anything, but I do have a liquor store less than a quarter mile from my house (walking distance) 🙂
Wow! I never quite thought of food as a behavioral intervention in quite the way you describe, but now that you mention it and that I think of it, that really makes a lot of sense.
As you know, I’ve been reading the signs for a long time now that clearly point to the reality that I must overcome my own cooking aversions and get my game on in the kitchen. This is likely the straw that broke that proverbial camel of resistance’s back.
90% of what I cook can be done in 20 minutes or less. (Speed of Feed is another must – as I don’t have to tell you, Wild Mind! You’ve got four of the little treasures to treat to eats!) 🙂
As for coping with the Irritant Job Description? I’ve found having my own IV directly linked from the wine cellar to me, works wonders!
I once read in a not-so-helpful article in a not-so-helpful parenting magazine that food should never be used to bribe or comfort a child. Needless to say, my own “recipe for success” is far closer to yours: foods and mealtimes as conduit to conversation (yes, even with a baby and a toddler).
No food as comfort? I know that food can become a source of addiction like anything else, but I don’t see anything wrong with celebrating food, especially if it’s (mostly) healthful and prepared with love (please note that some of my loving preparation involves boxes of macaroni and cheese).
I also think of food as reward, as comfort, as celebration. A matter of moderation. (I just fed my kid, and he just agreed to do something in his own best interest, but not the way he’d like to spend his last day of Spring Break. Partly, aren’t we all more open and reasonable when we aren’t hungry?)
I’d like to think I’m an Irritant akin to, say, vinegar … nontoxic, OK if ingested, packs a powerful cleansing punch, clears the sinuses. And it’s reassuring to know that at some point, I will be the one doing the (figurative) regurgitation, as opposed to being the recipient of such. =>
Stacia – love it!
You do what you can to motivate the kids. And in the end you toss your hands up in the air and just hope that they have learned something from you.
Irritant? Ask the oldest if I irritated him this morning when I stomped around getting ready for my race. Definitely as he was massively hungover and kept me awake last night when I wanted to be sleeping.
Only IV I want today is Gatorade or potassium direct to my muscles, thank you. My children best stay out of my way. 🙂
May the force be with you, Nicki… and may your children stay out of your way! (How was the race?)
Am I an Irritant? Well, I’m running a battle with my son over who gets his IPod at home since he’s using it for games, games, games. He says he won’t give in. I say I’ll have it by tomorrow. How will I do that? Well, I’m just as much of an irritant as my friend BLW, I told him we wouldn’t go to Rubio’s after school unless I had said IPod in my hand.
Teenage boy’s hungry stomach or IPod loaded with games instead of music – which will win?
Oh, my morning chuckle, Linda! I suspect I know who will win this battle of wills! (Here’s to an effective Irritant. A tough job, but someone’s got to do it… )
How do I convince my 12 year old son that decisions about sunscreen and computer time aren’t a matter of negotiation between us? And how did he GET this idea? Sticking it out is one of the most important skills we have to develop as parents, even when we are beyond tired!
Reward systems are big in our house (talked briefly about this today over at Kristen’s book club). I am not afraid to admit that I use food OFTEN to motivate my preschooler. The irony is that often food is the very reason we are arguing. Talk about circular parenting. It just occurred to me at this very moment that he’s got me all wrapped up. How did that happen?
This post is oh-so-true. I’m a major irritant to the 13 year old, and (dare I say it?) he is a major irritant to me. Luckily we have those early bonds of love to help us muddle through the teen years. And you’re right, the way to a teen’s heart and mind is through his stomach.