Cabbage Rolls and an Undo Button

There isn’t a day that goes by that I haven’t wished for a real life undo button.  I’ve been a mother for almost sixteen years now and sometimes I shock myself with some of the stupid decisions I’ve made in the past.  For instance, one time when my oldest son was ten, he sat down for dinner.  On the menu that night were Grandma’s delicious cabbage rolls, a family favourite.  After he took a bite he gently put down his fork and announced, “I don’t want this!”  Not being in the mood for a childish food protest I shot back, “You have to, Grandma made them just for us!”  After a minute or so of pointless arguing, I announced the big ultimatum all mothers eventually unleash, “Eat those cabbage rolls or you will be going to bed!”  It was 5:30 in the evening for crying out loud, this threat had to hit him where it hurt.  My son looked up at me, completely composed and calmly explained to me, “I guess I am going to bed early then.”  With his head held high, my son took his stand and walked up the stairs to his room.  I threw his uneaten cabbage rolls into the garbage, I was proud of myself for winning the food battle for that evening.  After all I had to put my foot down, what Mom says goes, right?

Later, I reheated the cabbage rolls for my husband and myself.  I had explained the drama that happened earlier. My husband was shocked that our son chose to give up a summer night for his anti-cabbage roll stance.  During my husband’s, ‘This kid has to start to listening better to his parents’ speech, he raised to fork to his mouth and took a bite of his mother’s coveted cabbage rolls.  His casual, talking with his mouthful expression quickly morphed into scowl of horror movie monster, as he let the chewed up food drop from his mouth to the plate.  “What’s the matter?” I shouted.  My husband started cleaning his tongue with a paper towel. “This is absolutely disgusting!” Instead of trusting my husband’s palate like a good wife, I had to see for myself and took a bite.  I froze as the foul tasting delicacy hit my tongue.  I lunged towards the garbage and spit out the rancid mass, and then went into a convulsive dance to exorcise the aftertaste from my mouth.  We just looked at each other in shock and disbelief.  I had punished my son because he refused to eat rancid food. What would be my next brilliant move, grounding him because he took out the garbage without being told to?   The innocent victim had been asleep for awhile, so I let him be.  My word is law after all no matter how stupid my laws are sometimes. Looking back it’s a pretty funny story but now whenever I refuse my son anything he says, “Remember the cabbage rolls Mom?”  If I only could press that undo button!

Connie is an urbanmoms.ca member and experienced mom. Share your thoughts about her story and the parental "undo button" in the comments, below.

Comments

[Jen Maier]

If only! There are so many times that even in the moment, as the words come out of my mouth I wish I could take them back. And I have learned that sometimes it is OK to admit when you are wrong. It is a fine balance between sticking to your guns and a power struggle that takes on a life of its own. I haven't quite been able to strike that perfect balance yet.

[Margot]

I would LOVE an undo button, & frankly I'm only 2 & 1/2 yrs into this parenting thing!!
Connie, I loved your story & it reminds me of the story that my husband tells about sitting at the kitchen table for the hours between breakfast & lunch because he wouldn't eat a soft-boiled egg. He was not going to eat that egg, & didn't, but he sat there while his sisters played outside & had fun. He pretty much will never let his mother forget that one!
Thanks so much for sharing your story.

[Kath]

Connie, I have SO been there, done that! Not exactly with cabbage rolls, but I once made pancakes with rancid butter, except I only realized it after I had browbeaten the kids into eating their portions. When I took the first bite...ewwww! Boy, did I feel bad. But my kids thought it was hilarious and I guess it's good for them to see me as a fallible human being sometimes, too, eh?