Laying Down House Rules

Am negotiating that delicate balancing act called Laying Down The Rules whenever The Girls come over.

Lately, they've been coming over everyday. A huge adjustment for me, as I really crave my privacy and quiet. The house hasn't been quiet since Baby J started crawling, sitting up and learning to stand with support. She hates being on her own and needs a lot of attention and company, so when I get a moment to myself, I hang on to it real tight.

The first day they hung out at our house, they appalled me with their language (4-letter words, rock lyrics from Pink with dubious references to kissing and sleeping together, Paris Hilton magazine), their constant fighting and bitching, their disregard for people's privacy and for basic social etiquette (jumping on and off the sofa, leaving muffin crumbs all over the lounge carpet, helping themselves to the contents of my fridge, jamming crazily on the keyboard and guitar).

After 3 days, I thickened my skin and starting Laying Down The Rules.

One time, D gleefully told me she'd opened my clamshell Nokia to poke around. I firmly told her she should not touch people's things without asking permission.

Another time, when D and C were trying to claw each other's eyes out, I stepped in (having had to shout to be heard) and told them no fighting or bad language was allowed in the house, or they wouldn't be allowed over anymore.

There was a day D proudly revealed that "because" her balloon wouldn't pop, she was so frustrated she threw stones at the neighbour's fence! Worse, Beth and C took part as well. Then and there, I told D it was wrong of her to show disrespect for other people's property. I interrogated Beth, confirmed the allegation, extracted a confession of guilt - C "did it too"! - and Beth got a shelling as well. I told her in no uncertain terms how disappointed I was that she'd acted in a way she knew was wrong.

But these occasions have also turned out to be a great opportunity to communicate good values and good behaviour.

When D confessed that she wanted to be good but her sister was "teaching" her "bad things", my reply to D was she knew the difference between good and bad and she could choose the good and reject the bad.

And Beth is a terrific mouthpiece for The Rules because we always have a discussion about the can's and cannot's before The Girls come by, so I sometimes rely on her to tell The Girls what they shouldn't be doing.

Thanks to D, I now know that Bratz have got a series of books aimed at the 7-12 y.o. girls' market.
I also know the trashy content inside.
The sort of dialogue where the main character goes "That is so totally cool!" (I had to read 2 chapters aloud to D, horrors!)
That extols rock music and silly, fashion obsessed girls whose first reaction to an eco trip is to acquire a new fashion wardrobe for the occasion.
That places undue importance on a girl's vanity, peer standing and appearance.
Sometimes I feel I stress so much because I know too much, simply by being at home and available 24/7. Being away at work would be a lot easier. See no evil, hear no evil.

Having The Girls drop by so often has given me a great excuse to practise baking, and by extension, showing love and hospitality through food. The first time I baked chocolate cookies (to use up my store of cooking choc), they disappeared really quickly. The next day I baked choc muffins, and D kept coming to the kitchen to ask for one more. Today when I baked fairy cakes and gave Beth strict instructions to keep quiet about them just in case they didn't turn out properly, she leaked their existence anyway. So I sent The Girls on their way with a tupperware of the stuff.

I suspect God is trying to teach me something here. Perhaps He wants me to show The Girls loving discipline through the way we raise Beth. Perhaps Beth is to be the conduit through which The Girls can come to know Him.