Life With the Comeback Kids

Patrick and Fiona Winch's mother has learned that she doesn't always have the final word. (Family Photo)

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Monday, March 24, 2008; Page B03

Big wisdom comes in small packages.

When our now 12-year-old daughter was 2, she was very articulate and very strong-willed, a challenging combination. One evening, Fiona was watching a videotape of "The Wind in the Willows" past her bedtime. I gave her the standard 10- and 5-minute warnings, then told her that her time was up, that she could finish it in the morning, and turned off the TV.

A complete meltdown ensued.

I carried her upstairs, put her on her bed and said in my most authoritative mommy voice: "Number One: If you don't stop kicking and screaming right now, you will not watch that in the morning. Number Two: If you behave that way when TV time is over in the future, you will not be allowed to watch it at all the next day."

I stopped, feeling quite satisfied with my proclamations. Silence. She stopped screaming, rolled over, looked at me through tear-stained eyes and said, "What's Number Three?"

Taken aback, I said: "I don't know. I haven't gotten there yet." Smiling a triumphant smile, she screamed: "Number Three: I finish 'Wind in the Willows'!"

That was just a portent of things to come. She has been one step ahead of me ever since.

* * *

When our son Patrick was a toddler, he was a constant talker. My father used to say he had been vaccinated with a Victrola needle. I was taking the children to hear an Irish poet read for a children's hour at Politics and Prose Bookstore around St. Patrick's Day. Driving down Nebraska Avenue, I was intoning about the necessity of keeping quiet as the poet read so all the children could hear him.

At a red light, I turned to the back seat. "Now, Fiona," I said to our then-4-year-old, "I'm not worried about you, but Patrick," I looked at our 2-year-old, "you do tend to talk a bit too loudly when you really need to listen."

The light changed and, satisfied that I'd made my point, I turned around and started driving. "But Mommy," I heard his little voice from the back seat, "you got to sing when your spirit says sing." I almost drove off the road.

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