You can read the first half of this post on our struggles to get our five year old dressed and out the door in the morning. (Or you can just accept that we struggle to get our five year old dressed and out the door in the morning.)

We try — when we’re not desperately resorting to whatever else comes to mind — to use natural and logical consequences in our parenting. I mean, that’s what life is, right? If you do X, Y will happen. If you’re kind to others, you will have more friends. If you constantly show up late to work, you’ll get fired. Throw the toy, lose the toy (also applies to bludgeoning your brother with said toy). These are the choices. And even though I think Skywalker is special and amazing and maybe should be given all the free time he wants to do what he wants, the world isn’t wired that way — at least not until you’ve had your first tech company IPO and made millions.

So the most natural, logical consequence Hubs and I could think of for refusing to get ready for camp is that you don’t get to go to camp. Skywalker LOVES camp, so he was very upset by this idea when we first began mentioning it the week before last. Of course, this consequence for him also has consequences for me, in that it’s much harder to work with a bored five year old wandering into your office every two minutes. Like many parents who make empty threats, we thought/hoped that the mere mention of it would be enough to persuade him to be more helpful in the morning, and it did — after the fact. So we spent several days conceding through frustration to let him go anyway, on the promise of better behavior the next day.

When that finally, explosively failed us this past Thursday morning (“I hate you! You’re so mean!”), I realized my bluff had been called and it was time to follow through. So Skywalker stayed in his room, crying, while I took Fozzie to little-kid camp and got a bit of work done (Hubs was home sick, btw, and there for any emergencies). The terms of his incarceration were: in your room, only out to use the bathroom. Yes to water and lunch, no to extra snacks. No screens. And when Mommy has a boring errand to run (like going to the nail salon for a long-overdue mani-pedi), guess who gets to come along? His shocked disbelief that I was actually following through on the consequence gave way to grumbling, which gave way to resignation and… apology?

Yep. He came into my office and asked me how to spell “sorry” and then “mommy.” I was pleasantly surprised when he returned with his note to see that he’d added “for being mean to you” all on his own. I told him I would keep it forever, and he suggested I write the date on it so we would both “remember it always.” You bet I will, kiddo.

Other than the unsurprising fact that I didn’t get much work done, the rest of the day went better than I ever would have dreamed. We dropped off Fozzie’s lunch and Skywalker fessed up to one of the preschool administrators that he was out of camp for bad behavior (she already knew this from my neurotic ranting that morning that I was feeling like the WORST MOM EVER). He went with me to the nail salon — I can’t think of a better form of torture for a five year old boy — and sat quietly in a chair for an hour and a half without complaining.

During that time, I did relent on the no-screens policy because he was behaving so well and had been through his favorite book several times. I let him have my phone and didn’t notice that in addition to playing Angry Birds, he also made use of the camera. So while he didn’t complain of the boredom out loud, I discovered his photo essay on the subject this morning. His collection of salon selfies (yawning, smiling, pouting, sleeping) and especially the picture of the mole removal pamphlet were all very poignant.

As the afternoon went on, I began to realize that what I’d done was massively overhaul Skywalker’s expectations. We are not spoiling parents by any stretch of the imagination (I think many people see us as rather strict), but somehow I’ve still managed to give both boys the impression that every day revolves around them: their entertainment, their pleasure, their happiness with their lot in life.

But when we ended up at our favorite bagel place (right next door to an ice cream shop AND a cookie bakery), he was so thrilled to earn back a snack after I’d said “no snacks” that he walked right in with excitement, not even asking about the sweet shops. He went straight to the bathroom when I asked him to, and even ordered when the waiter came to our table: “two bagels with cream cheese, please!” He ordered for both of us! It was the cutest date I’ve ever inadvertently been on. The afternoon turned out to be some much-needed time alone together, and with no pressure for it to be amazingly fun, I think we both enjoyed it more than many of the “fun” activities I plan for the kids or our family.

To be honest, I’m not really sure what the lesson is here. I wish I could say that this magical, sweet, thoughtful state of mind went on forever, but we’re both still human and he’s still five. The next morning was slightly easier, but not without argument or incident. It wasn’t quite the transformation I was hoping would occur. Of course, it’s going to be a process for him and us to get to the point where morning tantrums (or tantrums in general) are a rare occurrence. Still, it was a little better, and it was nice to know that the thoughtful, cooperative kid is really in there. Perhaps we’ll find a way to coax him out more often.

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I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. I blog about writing, publishing, motherhood, health, psychology and whatever else strikes me in the moment.

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My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of funny, semi-realistic Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.

MJ Pullen

M.J. Pullen is a distracted writer and the mom of two boys in Roswell, Georgia, where she is absolutely late for something important right now. Her books include quirky romantic comedies and playful women's fiction. She blogs erratically with writing advice, random observations, and reflections on raising very loud kids and dogs. Join her Distracted Readers newsletter list for updates, free content, giveaways and more.