What Goes Around....

There's a bizarre phenomenon that most of us moms know about. It's a sort of law of the Parenting Universe.  It works like this: as soon as you turn up your nose at another mom for her child's bad behavior, your own child will soon start pulling the exact same stunts, usually by this time tomorrow. It's jinks, in a nutshell. 

I used to completely disdain this one family who let their kids stay up (and out at restaurants!) until about 11. Sure enough, Mopsy later developed some horrible sleeping problems which resulted in her staying up until about 11. When QB was little, I used to snif at someone whose child threw ridiculous temper tantrums. The next day I found myself hauling him out of a mall screaming like his arm was cut off because I wouldn't give him an Oreo. And once, when QB was about 1 1/2, I told Jarvis that he never did anything that could possibly warrant a time out. (Surely, that was evidence right there of my superb parenting skills.) Later that afternoon, QB found his fanny on the naughty chair.

Last night was a variation on the theme. Some friends at a barbecue were talking about their daughter's use of a nebulizer for breathing problems. QB has asthma, so we've been nebulizing for years. I said something along the lines of  "His asthma's so much better. He hasn't needed that thing in months." Not half an hour later, QB was having a tough time breathing, probably from all the pollen and freshly cut grass. Do I have to be hit over the head by this thing? When will I ever learn? 

Maybe one explanation is that if the moms are spending time together, then the kids are probably spending time together. One kid's behavior problem becomes contagious. Monkey see, monkey do. (Though that clearly doesn't explain away asthma.)

Or maybe it's bigger than that. The principle fits right in with the new age-y concept of universal laws: that what you put out, you will also receive. That the things you think about and focus on are what will materialize in your life. If that's true, then I should only talk about my child's successes and strengths, not the things that drive me nuts like the whining and fighting. I should only wax poetic about how kind and generous my husband is, even if I'm ticked off that he just beheaded my beloved clematis with the weed wacker. (True. Happened Sunday. I'm still recovering. I knew he was going to do it, too! See, further evidence supporting the law.) Adopting this hyper-positive attitude is much easier said than done, of course.

But I will try. I suspect I might even be able to adopt this mindset for a day or so. As soon as I get over the clematis incident.