Coincidence? I think not.

It feels like I say this every few days, but it seems true: something has shifted. I feel tolerant of Anonybabe's peccadillos all of the sudden. I don't know why. But there are a few happenings clustered around this feeling that may or may not be related.

Happening the first: Anonybabe's daycare had their annual picnic on Friday. All the kids and parents got together at 4 o'clock for pizza and chit chat. (It was fun; a crowd of middle-aged introverts with only one or two kids each. Anonyhub and I are hitting it off nicely with several families). At one point Anonybabe wandered off with a balloon she'd been given and managed to pop it on the lawn. I asked her to pick up the pieces of orange rubber and throw them in the trash can. While we were walking to the trash, she got distracted by some revelry by the swing set and threw her balloon bits down to run over and join in. I called her back, and as I stood over her, dictating that she pick up each piece she'd missed, I had a moment of clarity. I was being a fucking asshole. Yes, I did and do want to teach Anonybabe to be responsible for herself, to clean up her messes and be generally considerate. But I was using my responsibility to teach as an excuse for being lazy and rude. If I were with an adult who was picking up, I'd have given them a hand. Especially at a freaking picnic. Something in me relaxed - I decided it was okay to use some common sense and a sliding scale when it came to teaching my daughter responsibility. Hmm, it wasn't until I wrote this sentence just now that I realize this was exactly what Anonyhub was lecturing me about last week.

Happening the second: I finally tried spanking Anonybabe. A sharp slap on the hand that I warned her about ahead of time. It didn't work at all. She looked at me quizzically after the first slap and then laughed nervously after the second. It was bedtime and she wouldn't be quiet. The punishment didn't help the crime because she was venting nervous energy to begin with and the slaps just amped her up. But I felt strangely light and free after trying it. I'd come to the conclusion that spanking isn't a big deal and is worth a try, and I'd decided if it worked, I was gonna use it. It didn't (that time - not saying I won't bust it out again) and I lost the guilty feeling that I was avoiding a simple fix for no good reason.

The upshot is that I found myself being laid back with Anonybabe yesterday. Enjoying her and/or keeping my cool when she went off the handle. She's been a horror today and - knock on wood - it isn't getting to me like it usually does. I hope the self-control and tolerance lasts, because it's delightful. Something about it feels like it did when Anonybabe was a newborn, and being a parent was nothing but draining, but I had this deep, deep sense of peace. For the moment, I feel like my gut instincts are on track.

Incidentally, I have also been getting more Anonymom time. Time with friends, time to myself.