R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

This week’s been all about those seven capital letters belted out by Aretha Franklin – R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

My biggest fear before becoming a parent was losing the respect of my own children but I didn’t expect this to kick in until their teens.

However, it was becoming increasingly evident while reprimanding Master Seven that I was losing it sooner. The wide-eyed silent mimicking was the dead-giveaway.

Time for Operation Respect.

“From now on,” I told him. “You are going to learn to be respectful. Every time you are disrespectful, I am taking away something you love until you 'get' it.”

“But what is respect Mummy?” he asked.

“Ah …” Actually that one’s kind of hard to explain without using the word ‘respect’ itself. By default I decided he could learn by trial and error.

“Every time you’re disrespectful, you will know because I’m taking away one of your Trash Packs, and every time you’re respectful, you’ll get it back.”

For some reason he just loves those Trash Packs. To me they are the stupidest toys ever invented. They don’t do anything except sit there looking ugly. And, if they come with slime in them – a bonus apparently, they can be a parent’s worst nightmare. Master Seven once decided to ‘interact’ with them and smeared green slime around his room to create an effect. I discovered it when I went to turn out his light one night and put my hand in the goo on his light switch.

I spent the next day while he was at school scrubbing dried green goo off all the surfaces, only to find it back again that night.

But I digress. Respect starts at the top and is a witnessed and learned behaviour. But that one word encompasses many aspects: respecting people’s property, feelings, opinions, space, themselves and did I say respecting one’s mother ?! My boy had a lot to learn and he was losing his trash pack collection like there was no tomorrow.

But it turned out Master Seven had that word coming at him from all directions: one day this week I was mother helping in his class when I heard the teacher mention the word ‘respect’ at mat time. I swung around and caught his eye and he flashed a sheepish grin. He’d known all along.

It’s early days and I think we’re making slow but steady progress but I hope it sinks in soon – those trash packs lining my dressing table are looking god-damn awful.