Day 229, Items Purchased:0, Temptation Radar:0
Thursday, August 18
It was abundantly clear to me by about 9:30am that I was not a contender for Mother-of-the-Year award. This discovery came shortly after Owen took the spanking spoon from the cabinet and said,
“That’s it. I get spankin’spoon. I spank my own self.”
“Because I mad. I no like you. You mean. I spank my own self and go to time out.”
He grabbed the spoon, marched himself to his room, whacked his leg twice with a plastic spoon and locked me out. I looked over at Olivia, who looked at me in utter bewilderment, and with a shrug of her shoulders exited to her room and closed the door. I stood in the hallway, determining that I needed a revelation on child discipline, which by my estimation had turned against me in a major way. The precursor to the rare display was a simple request I made for him to leave Olivia’s room and clean his. What’s so bad about that? Other combative phrases used by Owen toward me,when he’s in a fit of rage include,
“MOM! That’s it! You gonna go to jail. I call police office come get you! You get a ticket”, or “Mom! I so sick you, I gonna FRO UP!”
Yes, he’s a passionate little boy and all of these responses stem from things I’ve said to him like, “Owen, buckle that car seat or the Police officer will give me a ticket and take me to jail”, or “Owen, you are killing me today! Your attitude is making me sick!”
As you can see, we have much to learn about language and how to use it, and must certainly anticipate how it might be twisted and used against us. I shall study up on these topics VERY soon. Nevertheless, I had to do something in the short-term to gain the heart of one frustrated little boy. Olivia helped me.
It was a rough day with the younglings today. My reward: A jog around the lake. Thank God for exercise.