Creative Parenting

Tonight we had a choice parenting moment:

I arrived home tonight from an outing with some guys to find my daughter Keisha neither in bed nor asleep. She became quite emotional when I began talking with her about heading back upstairs to her bed. The bottom-line reason she was out of bed, despite her myriad excuses ("My belly hurts", "I want to see my Mommy", "I want to wait for my Daddy to come home") was that she just didn't want to go to bed.

She said she wanted to go to the doctor because her belly was hurting. Then she said she wanted to go to the hospital. When I asked her why, she said, "Because they will help me feel better."

"What will they do?" I asked.

"Give me some medicine," she replied.

Well, she needed to put her hearing aids back in (she sleeps with them so that she can hear what goes on), but she needed some lubricant for the earmolds, which fit inside her ear. We've been using Cornhusker's Lotion, which works like a charm. I told her that the stuff I put on her hearing aids was like medicine.

Keisha also has been taking Ditrophan for bladder spasms. I asked my mom if she knew whether Keisha had been given her evening dose. She asked Jennie, who said no. So, I told Keisha that we still needed to give her the "potty medicine," which would help her feel better. But we agreed to do this only if she wouldn't cry or act upset.

When she said that she couldn't, I told her I didn't believe her, and I smiled. This caused a small grin to appear on her face. "See?" I said. "You can be happy if you want to." Well, she didn't want to have anything to do with that, and she turned around gruffly and yelled something.

In matters of this sort, I did what every father should do: I had her sit down with me so that we could pray. I prayed first and then she prayed. After this, we agreed to go to the kitchen to get her medicine in a civil manner.

I mentioned earlier that I've been going to bartending school. Keisha has picked up on this from hearing me tell Jennie and my mom about the classes. Since the Ditrophan tastes terrible, we always let Keisha drink something afterward to wash away the taste. So, I told Keisha that I was basically giving her a "shot" of her medicine, and we agreed that half a cup of cherry kool-aid would work well as a "chaser." She liked that idea. I even showed her how to do it.

Having finished with that, I reiterated to her that she'd been given this medicine, and it should help her to feel better. She returned to her bed, I tucked her in, and did our "good night" ritual, which is a tradition my mom used to do with me. It goes like this:

Dan: Good night.
Keisha: Sleep tight.
Dan: Don't let the bedbugs bite.
Keisha: Right!

I turned her music on, and I left.

Mission: accomplished.