On Being Disciplined

"Ponked" is what I apparently did this morning when a car in front of me did not turn quickly enough as I was headed into a store parking lot. You only get the green arrow light for a couple seconds at this particular intersection. So I heard: "Mom, did you just ponk at him?" and I answered yes. I ponked because, as I recognize, I am rather impatient. I want to get where I'm going. I want to get there yesterday. I don't enjoy driving places that much, unless it's a cool roadtrip or something with some sort of nostalgic meaning. If it's a trip to the store, I just want to get there and get home. My impatience doesn't stop there. I don't like waiting for packages in the mail, waiting for projects to be finished...I don't like waiting, period. So, as I'm thinking of this today, I realize my other "disciplines" are also a little out-of-whack.
Perhaps this is because we've been discussing discipline at home. You see, Isaac began Tae Kwon Do school yesterday. And there was plenty of talk about the discipline that it requires to master this art form. Isaac's teacher told me that it's very important that I remind him of key disciplinary points. For example, when he's acting out a behavior that is less-than-desirable, I should remind him that I would like for him to stop the behavior. I should do this calmly, and explain why I'm making such a request. This is hard for me. My usual, impatient self would typically say, once, and admittedly with amplified volume, "Knock it off." If it then continued, my reaction would be to assist my child in a trip to the time-out step. I don't think Isaac's teacher is suggesting that we'll never have to do time-outs again, but I think the goal is to develop Isaac's self-discipline well enough that he can control these behaviors on his own. So, supposing this is what actually happens, does this mean I have to become a black belt to gain some self-discipline skills?
As I consider this, I realize faults in other aspects of my own self-discipline. Let's take eating, for example. I'm horribly weak around food. I love food. Most any kind. My love handles could tell you steamy tales of forbidden nights when we've stood over a pan of brownies on the stove, a fork in one hand and a glass of milk in the other...but those are forbidden tales...so I forbid myself from continuing...Ok, so I fail at that discipline.
Maybe exercise? That thing that I start with a vigorous burst of energy about three times a year, and then after a few weeks give up dramatically and depressingly, seeking comfort in a Paula Deen cookbook? (See above paragraph?) Again, fail.
How about my lady-like manners? More specifically, my ability to control the urge to say inappropriate words. Cussing, you might call it. If you were honest. I choose to dampen it a little, calling them inappropriate words. Considering one of my sons has been caught a number of times muttering "dammit" when he drops or breaks something, and the other is closely trailing with his exclamations of "holy capp!"....mmhmm, you can say it, I fail.
Oh, and here's one more: I have no discipline in stores like Sam's Club. In fact, that's what started this story, as that is the store we visited this morning. I have some mental disorder that leads me to believe, wholeheartedly, that I will need a six-pack of window cleaning foam. A barrel of apple juice that will nary fit in my fridge? Yes, put it in the cart. Toss in the king-size tub of pretzel sticks too. I don't care that I don't even really like pretzels, how can you resist it when there's four hundred of them together? I think part of this problem is that you have to display a little membership card, too, in order to purchase this stuff. It's like a secret, buy-much-more than you need society. And I'm a member. Epic, epic fail.
So, I wonder how challenging it will be to help my child learn the discipline it takes to be a Tae Kwon Do student when my own skills aren't squeaky clean. Honestly, I'm thinking it'll be a very challenging, but very rewarding process for both of us.
And to clarify, I'm not suggesting that I'm a completely lazy, barbaric, morbidly obese sailor-mouth. But let's be really clear: I'm not a size 4 Jillian Michaels with a charm school certificate, either. Although I do have that Sam's card.
One way or another, we'll get the hang of this Tae Kwon Do way of life. Who knows, maybe I'll even join my son on the mats...either that, or he can just go back to playing baseball. After all, I was a good "snack-mom." It's easy to be a hero when you show up with enough juice boxes and pretzel sticks to feed the lower half of Texas.
Hi Yah!