Journal of a Living Lady #194

 

Nancy White Kelly

 

 

If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was paranoid. People stare at me, in restaurants, in church, in stores…most everywhere I go.  Sure, many recognize me from this newspaper even though the black and white picture was made back in the 1980’s. This whimsical photograph was taken days before I was originally diagnosed with breast cancer.  When my friend shot the picture, I never dreamed that it would be printed on a weekly basis into the next century.

 

In spite of advancing age, my DNA hasn’t changed. I still resemble that out-dated picture though I now look more like the grandmother of the above-pictured Living Lady.

 

A couple of weeks ago, I took an item back to Wal-Mart in Murphy, North Carolina.  When my turn came at the exchange desk, the clerk looked up wide-eyed.  “Are you the lady?” she asked. Yes, I smiled, knowing what she meant.  Such recognition happens all the time. I am so famous that she asked for my autograph on the signature line of the return slip.

 

Saturday, a frustrated young woman stopped me while I was casually strolling though a Georgia flea market. In an entrepreneurial spirit, she was trying to sell some home-baked goodies. Offering me a sample, I hesitated long enough to notice that she was holding the cheese bread in one hand and the fist of a beautiful toddler in the other.  Resting in an infant carrier on the floor was another baby, much younger, watching peacefully as the world walked by.

 

“You are a mother, aren’t you?”  the young woman inquired. 

 

“Yes, I am a mother,” I proudly answered, wondering what gave me away. She could not have possibly known that Buddy and I had raised a dozen foster children, adopted a ten-year-old, and, in our old age, birthed a miracle son who is now grown.

 

“Did you ever give time-out to your two-year-old?” she asked.

 

I chuckled in response. “No, honey. That term wasn’t even invented when my children were little.”

 

“Well, I am trying to use time-out with my not quite two-year-old old daughter here, but she just won’t mind. Nothing I do works. What am I doing wrong?”

 

Once a mother, always a mother. That instinct never leaves. Customers were scarce, so I bought one of her pecan pies and sat down to chat for a while.

 

As a former teacher, I know the concept of  time-out. Yet, I encouraged her to wait until her youngster was a bit older to try this method of discipline.  The problem that day was obvious. Being confined in a 5x8 booth for hours with such pretty things to see, touch, and smell would be tempting for any small child. Her daughter was just being a normal, active, curious child.

 

As we developed a rapport, the mother continued to unload. “Yesterday she pulled a sharp knife out of the dishwasher. I tapped her little hand,” she hesitantly confessed.  I wanted to tell the new mother that she shouldn’t expose a tot to such hazards.  I reassured her that she did no harm in swatting the child’s hand.

 

The mother was anxious for more instruction so I expanded on Child Discipline 001: Firmly remove the child’s hand from the knife and strongly speak the word, “no.” Show the child that the knife edge is sharp and can cut. Use an apple as an example. Say, “I love you too much to let you get hurt. Don’t touch.”

 

“What if she does it again?” she asked.

 

I repeated the whole spiel. “Firmly remove the child’s hand,…” 

 

Fairness and consistency are keys to discipline. Actually this mother needed the time-out. I wish I could have offered to baby-sit the children for a few hours while she sold her bakery items. Yet, not knowing me in this case was a disadvantage. Nobody should ever entrust their children to a stranger. Not even the otherwise infamous Living Lady.

WEB READER NOTE: This column appears regularly in the Sentinel newspaper. The picture mentioned is the same one used on the front of the book, Journal of a Living Lady.

 

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nancyk@alltel.net