one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.
one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.
i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.
the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.
my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.
i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.
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reo loves when you pay attention to him.
it’s his life’s purpose; the reason he wakes up every morning, the only thing other than football that gives him a reason to wake up. (his words, not yours.)
he assumed it was the same for you.
which is why he’s like to know why the hell you were giggling at your phone when he was right next to you.
he calls out your name, frowning when you don’t pay him any attention.
he sidles up to you, trying to get a glimpse of your phone. his eyes widen when he sees what’s on the screen.
“what the hell?” he gasps in disbelief. you yelp when you hear his voice next to your ear.
reo rips the phone from your hands, brows knitting when he reads the very cringey line the (subpar, below average, very unattractive) guy on your screen says.
“an otome?” he slowly lifts his eyes from your screen to look at you, mouth agape. an offended gasp slips past his lips when he sees your unapologetic expression.
you sheepishly smile, “sorry?”
“that’s all you have to say for yourself?!” he cries, “‘sorry’?!”
he takes a deep breath, expression suddenly solemn, “what does he have that i don’t?”
you blink in confusion, “excuse me?”
“is he rich?” he glances at the screen, “because he doesn’t look rich.”
“in fact,” reo frowns, “he isn’t even nice looking at all!”
“he’s got a nice personality,” you pout.
“and i don’t?”
“hey!” you wrangle your phone out of his grip, “i never said that.”
“but you thought it!” he whines, “is that why you haven’t been paying attention to me at all?”
you blink at him, eyes widening in realization. a smile spreads through your lips. “reo, are you jealous?”
“like i’d be jealous of that,” he scoffs, laughing loudly. you give him a knowing smile. he crosses his arms, looking away from you.
a soft flush spreads through his cheeks like wildfire, pout quickly forming on his lips. he glances back at you, “maybe.”
“reo,” you gently touch his arm, snickering when he plops himself on top of you. “you do know i love you, right?”
he nods, nuzzling himself into you. you soothingly pat his head, “what’s wrong, then?”
“‘s just that,” he pouts, “i’ve been trying to get your attention for the past twenty minutes and you just ignored me.”
“‘m sorry,” you kiss the top of his head, “i promise i’ll pay more attention to you in the future.”
he hums contently. there’s a beat of silence.
“but,” you sigh, “you do know you ignore me when you’re watching a football match, right?”
you laugh when you feel his arms wrap around you, and he hides his face from your eyes.
“there’s a difference,” he sulks.
you smile, “if you say so.”
he huffs. there’s another beat of silence.
“you’re gonna delete that game, right?”
you snort, “not a chance, pal.”
he raises his head to glare at you, though his faux anger melts away when you press a kiss to his lips.
“fine,” he chases after your lips, smiling, “enjoy your little affair with that poor excuse of a lover.”
“i’ll think of you when we get married,” you smile against his lips.
he pulls away, letting out an offended gasp, “married?”
he smiles when you press a kiss against his cheeks. “you better delete that game after your wedding.”
“what’re you on?” you tease, “i’m still missing four more routes.”
reo feels his world crumble. he groans in despair. “you’re so mean to me.”
“i promise I’ll give you my undivided attention when i’m done.” you press a soft kiss to the corners of his lips.
“you are my favorite lover, after all.”
he smiles, resting his head against your chest, “i better be.”
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