The Problem with Hives...

So Buttercup is quite possibly the slowest child I've ever met. Feldie (my husband) and I can ask her to do... anything, and she will drag her feet and get distracted and forget what we asked her and blah blah blah, and all the while we're slowly going insane. "Buttercup, go put on your shoes so we can go get something to eat." shuffle shuffle shuffle, dddrrrrrraaaaaaaggggggggg, wander wander wander and we find her sitting on her bed. (AAAUUUGGGHHH!) "Buttercup, bring me all your dirty clothes so I can get them in the wash." ... nothing. I poke, I prod, I bribe, I raise my voice, I resort to threats, I take things away, all to no avail. It's not like I ask her to do something with a small window of time in which to finish whatever it is. She gets plenty of time to do whatever it is that needs to be done. BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. Buttercup does not have a problem that would cause her to be soooo slllooooowwww. She just moves on Buttercup-time. Where one of her minutes is equal to anywhere from 5 to 30 normal minutes. I've tried less time, I've tried more time....nothing seems to flip her switch into "go" mode. So this morning, I used a new tactic.
Life inside the hive is very... safe. Protected. As it should be. However, eventually my little B's will not live inside this hive. They will have to go and find a new hive. Their own hive. Located in the huge matrix of hives that make up the world. And they will have to be able to survive on "the outside". So, Buttercup learned a lesson today. This little hostage inside the hive that they call "Momma" is done wracking her brain trying to figure out what makes each of my individual B's tick. Oh, I'm not saying that I'm going militant on them. Or making them conform to be exactly the kinds of B's that I think they should be. (well behaved, selfless, smart, giving everything their all B's.) But I am saying that outside this hive is the Real World. and the Real World (anyone else hear that ominous "da-da-daaah" sound?) has Real World consequences. And each of my little B's are smart enough to avoid said consequences with the help of Feldie and I. And all they have to do is... ready? because this is the hard part.... listen. That's right. Just listen. They don't have to knit me a sweater. Or build themselves a hive from the ground up. Or do anything crazy. Just LISTEN. Because if they don't, they will then get to deal with the Real World consequence. (there is was again! It's like I'm in a suspense movie! "da da daaaahhh")
This morning, like every morning, I woke my little B's up. For Boudreaux, that takes up all of 30 seconds of my morning. I go in, turn on the light, say "Good Morning, Boudreaux! It's time to get up and get ready." and that little B stretches and gets out of bed, does his morning routine, picks out his own clothes (which I sometimes veto, but not often, as he's surprisingly good at it) feeds the dogs (when he remembers, and he's getting better about it) and stands at the door with his backpack ready to go. For Buglet, this includes quietly picking her up, making sure she has a clean Buggy Bottom, throwing a shirt on her (because Bug likes to be a mostly naked Bug and so sleeps best in nothing but her diaper. and makes me spend the rest of the night going and covering her back up because she kicks her blanket off. And mine if she winds up in bed with us..) and buckling her into her Baby B safety device because, honestly, she's too little to test out her little wings. But Buttercup, on the other hand, is a Nocturnal B. She's the B that will stay awake, and for the most part stay pretty happy about it, until the last possible second. She is not a morning B. (and neither is the hostage. Meaning me.) Buttercup would prefer to not see the morning. EVER. So, Buttercup goes to bed a little earlier than the other B's so that she can be woken up a little earlier than the other B's to allow her time to wander into the land of the living because, as we've already established, she's a slow mover. But on this particular morning, Buttercup and the world were not at peace with one another. So I woke up Miss Buttercup about 10 minutes before the other B's. (this hostage slept in a tiny bit on accident. oops) I then picked out her clothes for the day and all she had to do was sit up, put them on, go to the bathroom, get her ears cleaned (as she is sporting a brand new set of earrings, her first ever which will be a whole other post.) and sit on the couch so that I could do her hair. (Buttercup has curly antennae. and wakes up in the morning resembling a lightning struck bee.. which I'm thinking now, probably doesn't happen very often.) But today, 45 minutes later, Buttercup had managed to... put on a shirt. That's all. Just the shirt. and her jeans around her knees. And this hostage had had enough. Because Buttercup got 5 minute updates of when we were leaving for school. And Buttercup was not fazed in the least. Even after I told her she was running out of time and not to think I wouldn't send her to school with her hair like that. (which she wasn't happy about, by the way. She likes her antennae to be non frizzy.) So..... I told her to put her pj's back on because I wasn't doing this anymore. She was not going to school today. No I didn't care that it was Science Lab day. Nope, didn't even care about her missing her friends. No, there would be no TV watching or laying around. There also would not be a Buttercup in attendance at the "I wasn't absent this 6 weeks" party, because she was, in fact, going to be absent today. Lots of tears followed. I don't like to see my B's cry. But I also want my B's to learn to be big B's and be responsible for themselves. So as we speak, Buttercup is cleaning out from underneath her bed. Frizzy antennae and all. Then she'll be helping fold the laundry and putting clothes away. Then, when Bug-bug goes down for her nap, and the house is all quiet, Buttercup will be laying down too. And she will miss the day in school, and whatever work they did, and whatever fun they had. All because she didn't get a-move-on this morning. All because she didn't listen. And this, is the Real World consequence. (you heard it too, right?) I will also explain this to her teacher and have no problem doing it. Her teacher is already on my short list, which, too, is a whole other post.
Boudreaux has his own Real World consequences to deal with. Last night he lost his math worksheet. Lucky for him (I mean me) I wrote all the problems down of a blank sheet of paper because Boudreaux tends to take a few practice stabs at math before he gets the right answer and with all the erasing and pencil banging, the paper is a mess by the time he's through. Then he would (normally) copy the answers over onto the original to turn in all nice and neat. But not last night. No, last night he lost his original sheet. So he got to re-write all the problems and turn them in on notebook paper. (I was inches away from making him turn in his "practice" sheet, but it was a disaster and he needs all the help he can get in math.) If Boudreaux doesn't "remember" to read at night (I quote that because he has been reading every night for school for the past 2 years) then his reading log does not get signed. And he loses some.. something that his teacher gives out for incentive.
I can understand how this can been considered MEAN. Bad parenting. Whatever. And maybe someone else in this situation would have a different way of doing things that would work out fine. And I've tried them. I've tried reminding them and helping them and holding their little B hands and shielding them from consequences and then explaining to them why. Why that would've been the consequence. Why it is fair. Why other kids get better grades or whatever they happen to be getting that my poor little B's are not. And my little B's listened to what I said, and decided "meh." It didn't convince them to try harder, or practice more, or stop fighting or whatever the "lesson" was at the time. So, they are learning to stand on their own little B feet, with the help and guidance of Feldie and I, who want desperately for them to succeed and thrive. And what better place to learn to do that than in your safe, secure little hive?