Who's The Boss?

Tony Danza would have had a field day with this one, though of course he would have solved the issue by the end of twenty-six minutes with his feathered hair perfectly in place. Ah Tony, where are you when we need you?

Our two year-old currently rules our world. She's discovering the world as well, which means nonstop experimentation accompanied by constant boundary pushing. I’ve read some books on the matter — apparently this is what two year-olds do. So I guess I’m destined to continue the age-old power struggle of parent versus child: carried on by generations before me and generations to come…count on it.

I had expected this and I am somewhat prepared for it (I’m using a very loose interpretation of the word in this instance).  But what really threw me is the power struggle my husband and I find ourselves facing when dealing with our daughter’s boundary pushing (or scientific experiments to test our sanity, as we call it).

My husband and I are usually such a good team that I really didn't see this one coming. Sure we struggled when our daughter was a newborn, but we figured out the who-does-what-when within the first few months and have sailed…well, maybe not always smoothly but at least tidal wave free ever since. And then our sweet girl in her sweet nature started pushing the boundaries of socially acceptable behavior - already knowing full well what was appropriate by now - but choosing to test our tolerance all the same. And once that became regularity, my husband and I started catching glimpses of that big tidal wave about to blow us out of the water.

We’ll disagree on how many layers of clothes to dress her in, or how to handle it when she’s throwing a tantrum, or exactly when she should go to bed. Of course being her mother, I usually think that mother knows best. And my husband usually thinks he knows best. And sometimes we don’t have the desire to want to work it out…because we each want to "win." So, we spend too much time justifying the heck out of why it’s important to keep our daughter’s zipper up instead of down, or hat on instead of off. And it’s really, really boring. It’s actually boring me to type it. But just like in that moment, I find that I can’t stop.

I respect my husband’s opinion, and yet sometimes I find it difficult to let that rational line of thinking prevail when something as vital as my daughter’s hat is on the line. It’s crazy! I want my man to feel like he’s making good parenting decisions, and yet I have a hard time giving up control in the situation. Why? Because I know I’m right. I just am! And I may be right…but at what cost?

When did defending this minutia become more important than being on the same team? That's what I've found myself asking lately in the middle of this craziness. And the answer? When things start getting really, really busy. Beyond the daily routines, and beyond what we are accustomed to handling. When my husband and I have a particularly busy week, we find our own personal sanity (which is sometimes already pushed to the edge by toddlerhood) is now thrown into the winds of complete chaos. And to find control in the chaos, we apparently decided that whether our girl’s jacket should be zipped up is of the ut most importance. Yes, it appears we're that couple.

But I don't want to be. And I usually realize that at a later moment when sanity prevails, and I get to give my guy a big hug and smooch and tell him I'm sorry for making such a big deal out of a zipper. We smile and gush, and promise to manage it better next time.

And sometimes we do.

And other times I pull the zipper on her jacket to the top just before rushing in front my husband and out the front door for a family outing.

Hey, no one is perfect…not even Tony Danza.

Author: Amy