First time mom: Grandmas don't have to be the bad guys

I've figured it out. What I really want to be is a grandmother.

I'm 25 years old and my son is 19 months old, so I'll have to wait a while. But after months of watching Brody's grandmothers bond and play with him, I've come to know their job as a desirable one.

It's not that being The Mom doesn't have its perks. I particularly love our early morning and bedtime routines when it's just the two of us quietly beginning or ending our days together.

It's the role as The Bad Guy — or, in Brody's case, The Naughty Mat Enforcer — that I hate.

I have vivid memories of my own mom moaning that she "didn't want to be the bad guy, but she would if she had to." I vowed then that my future husband, whoever he would be, would definitely be The Bad Guy.

Well, I found that future husband, and he's not The Bad Guy.

Sure, if we're having an especially intense tantrum moment, Duane will step in with his deep-voiced "No," and Brody hops to his command. But the daily whine is left to me.

Right now, we have two main obstacles standing in the way of baby and mommy bliss: Vocal rejection of the word "no" and the defiant "I'll touch it if I want to" attitude.

One is corrected with a stint on the Naughty Mat, and the other is corrected by a tap on the hand.

Most of our troubles fall into one of those two categories, so the cause and effect plan is relatively easy to remember.

It's also proven quite effective.

But it took me a while to transform myself from an enabler to an enforcer. I wistfully watched Brody's grandmothers interact with him, and I wanted that all-play, no-work relationship with him.

Both Brody's aunt and uncle pleaded with Duane and me to discipline our child. "Of course we will," I thought. "But he's just a baby. He couldn't possibly do anything worth disciplining yet."

Actually, that was the same sentiment I expressed to a close family member a year earlier, when her son was a blossoming toddler. She responded with a snort and a chuckle. A beat later she ticked off a list that included her son sticking his hands in the toilet, slapping her in the face and scaling the furniture.

As Brody's own mischief skills matched and surpassed that list, I realized with devastation that polite pleas to "stop doing that, sweetheart" were ridiculous.