The stubbed toe diaries.
15/06/08 19:14 Filed in: Complaining
Ok.
Call me insensitive but
“I think your toe will hurt less, the less you complain about it!“
This is a phrase I have mumbled under my breath a number of times since my second oldest daughter stubbed her toe a couple days ago. I admit it, I'm not a sympathetic guy in most cases, although my wife is constantly reminding me what a big baby I am when I'm sick or injured.
Why is it that when it's someone else that needs a little sympathy, my first unshakeable instinct is to say "toughen up" or "suck it up princess". Is this a guy thing? Is it this lack of compasion that makes most men feel like it's the wife's job to tend to the kids emotions? I can't say for sure but one thing I do know is that a kid needs a balance of sensitivity and brutal honesty if they are gonna stand any chance of surviving and thriving in today's world.
So after hearing it for what seemed like the hundredth time today, I told her to keep a diary of everything she feels like saying out loud. I said, "for example, in the last 45 minutes your diary would have read,
12:15pm - Ow! my toe hurts, it's throbbing like crazy, daddy why does it hurt.
12:20pm - Ohhh! Owwweeee! I just bumped my toe on the heal of my other foot, it hurts so much.
12:25pm - Phone rings and pain inflicted child who was moments ago acting like she was on her death bed, suddenly forgets about her toe to giggle and fart around on the phone for 20 minutes completely oblivious to any problem with the before mentioned toe.
12:45pm - My friend thinks I should go to the doctor incase it's broken. Owwwweeee it hurts!
1:00pm - What do you mean I should sit down and raise my foot and put ice on it, that hurts too much!
This is what your diary would look like for the past 45 minutes, I told her! Whether you complain about it or not the pain isn't going to change. You won’t listen to me and put your damn foot up with ice on it, yet I have to listen to you all day long. Go and do as I said, lay down on the couch with a pillow under your leg with an ice pack on your toe. I then escorted her to the couch and gave her a notepad and pencil. Here is your new “stubbed toe diary” I said. Write all your complaints in it all day and later tonight I will sit and hold you while you read it to me. Now let me get some work done!
I often wonder if this is the best strategy for preparing them to go out into the real world? I understand that I must take the sensitive side at times, but being compassionate all day long for days on end is an impossible feat. I would rather tell her to get her foot up, put some ice on it and do something consructive to get your mind off it. It’s funny that I expect the exact opposite treatment when I’m down and out.
Talking about this with my wife, she suggested I read “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” by John Gray.
I’m a few chapters in and I’ve got to say it’s absolutely brillliant. I am already rethinking everything I say before I say it. I’m going to have to start seeing life through the eyes of a venetian if I want to better understand this housefull of 6 women that my two sons and I are blessed to be a part of.
“I think your toe will hurt less, the less you complain about it!“
This is a phrase I have mumbled under my breath a number of times since my second oldest daughter stubbed her toe a couple days ago. I admit it, I'm not a sympathetic guy in most cases, although my wife is constantly reminding me what a big baby I am when I'm sick or injured.
Why is it that when it's someone else that needs a little sympathy, my first unshakeable instinct is to say "toughen up" or "suck it up princess". Is this a guy thing? Is it this lack of compasion that makes most men feel like it's the wife's job to tend to the kids emotions? I can't say for sure but one thing I do know is that a kid needs a balance of sensitivity and brutal honesty if they are gonna stand any chance of surviving and thriving in today's world.
So after hearing it for what seemed like the hundredth time today, I told her to keep a diary of everything she feels like saying out loud. I said, "for example, in the last 45 minutes your diary would have read,
12:15pm - Ow! my toe hurts, it's throbbing like crazy, daddy why does it hurt.
12:20pm - Ohhh! Owwweeee! I just bumped my toe on the heal of my other foot, it hurts so much.
12:25pm - Phone rings and pain inflicted child who was moments ago acting like she was on her death bed, suddenly forgets about her toe to giggle and fart around on the phone for 20 minutes completely oblivious to any problem with the before mentioned toe.
12:45pm - My friend thinks I should go to the doctor incase it's broken. Owwwweeee it hurts!
1:00pm - What do you mean I should sit down and raise my foot and put ice on it, that hurts too much!
This is what your diary would look like for the past 45 minutes, I told her! Whether you complain about it or not the pain isn't going to change. You won’t listen to me and put your damn foot up with ice on it, yet I have to listen to you all day long. Go and do as I said, lay down on the couch with a pillow under your leg with an ice pack on your toe. I then escorted her to the couch and gave her a notepad and pencil. Here is your new “stubbed toe diary” I said. Write all your complaints in it all day and later tonight I will sit and hold you while you read it to me. Now let me get some work done!
I often wonder if this is the best strategy for preparing them to go out into the real world? I understand that I must take the sensitive side at times, but being compassionate all day long for days on end is an impossible feat. I would rather tell her to get her foot up, put some ice on it and do something consructive to get your mind off it. It’s funny that I expect the exact opposite treatment when I’m down and out.
Talking about this with my wife, she suggested I read “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” by John Gray.
I’m a few chapters in and I’ve got to say it’s absolutely brillliant. I am already rethinking everything I say before I say it. I’m going to have to start seeing life through the eyes of a venetian if I want to better understand this housefull of 6 women that my two sons and I are blessed to be a part of.
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