Just another example of a stupid parenting mistake, make that two, using the word “stupid.” Sorry Chloe, it will not happen again….in this sentence. Stupid sentence.

Our nine and six year old daughters have been asking us to buy each of them an ipod touch. I guess food and shelter just weren’t cutting it.

They ask at Christmas time, birthdays, anytime they have behaved for more than five consecutive minutes and think they’ve lulled us into some kind of trance.

The response from us has always been there is no reason for either of them to have an ipod touch at their disposal, keyword disposal, they lose everything. The technology offers programs that would be unused, confusing and over their heads. Not to mention, buying something of that value for children that age doesn’t make much sense to me considering they often come home wearing just one shoe and when asked where the other is, they look at me like I’m the one who ate it.

Their rebuttal, “Everyone in my class has an ipod touch. Everyone on my bus has an ipod touch. Everyone in my school, swimming lessons, neighbourhood, Church (if we attended one), gas station of choice, on my direct mailing list, in my pyramid scheme business has an ipod touch.”

I do not have an ipod touch. I don’t even have an ipod scratch so this argument that every other living being, including the turtles in our backyard owns these devices has fallen on deaf ears.

Thankfully for the girls two things happened. Number one, Greg bought the ipods during a moment of weakness/when they were on sale. He has been sitting on them for over a year as I have wanted to hold off on giving them to the kids. My three reasons for depriving them remain the same. Too young, it doesn’t make sense, the turtles need them more than they do.

Number two, the girls were complaining every moment they were awake and even more in their sleep about how difficult this swimming season has been on them both physically and ipod-ally so Greg devised a plan and yes, sadly, I am guilty of going along with this terrible idea.

He drew up two contracts for the girls to sign. Using his best legalize (as seen in films like The Firm and A Few Good Men), the contracts state if the girls agree not to complain about swimming from now until the end of the season, they will each receive their very own ipod touch.

Everyone signed, the girls were thrilled, winner winner chicken dinner.

I found Hanna crying in her bed one night.

I could hear her from my bathroom and it wasn’t a soft wincing into her pillow, it was a stressed out, angry, exhausted kid who wanted to vent to someone and knew she couldn’t.

What have I done?

I calmly hugged her and rubbed her back asking if she could tell me what was wrong. She was half asleep but even then she feared she might lose her year-end prize if she told me how she was feeling.

Did I actually create this? A situation where my own child didn’t feel comfortable enough to share a dark moment because of a bribe on the table? I felt sick.

She asked if it would be breaking the contract if she told me that she was nervous about her next swimming practice. I wanted to cry.

I told her to ignore the contract and just tell me how she was feeling.

She was scared to swim alongside some of the more experienced kids at the pool. She was nervous they might think she was holding them back. She feared her goggles might fall off, that she might not dive perfectly, that she would be slow or late for practice, all of the normal things someone who has bottled everything up for over a month has every right to feel.

Nowhere in the contract was Jack Nicholson screaming directly at me, “You Can’t Handle The Truth!” but that’s what happened.

Sometimes parents have the best intentions.

Thankfully, there is no contract saying we can’t admit when we’re wrong.