Monday, August 31, 2015

I Have Asked Two Times…

…and I will not ask again.

My mother-in-law has told a stories many times of when my husband was young and misbehaving or not listening.  In whatever case it was, she would say the phrase, “you don’t want the wrath of mommy on you?”  She tells the story today, saying her son didn’t want to know what that wrath was, so he cleaned up or brushed his teeth or made the birthday card for aunt Sally.

I started counting to three a few years ago.   I had been recommended a book about counting to three and at three, delivering a consequence if the child didn’t comply.   Doing this and being successful takes time, but once you win the 1-2-3 argument, it stays won.    I carefully use counting because it always works and I want to make sure it stays that way.

Something that’s come to light more recently is having to ask multiple times for something to happen.   It might be to put on shoes.   It could be to get dressed to go to school or come in from the playground or stop talking so loudly at the table.  Whenever I catch myself asking for something more than once and having my request ignored though, I’ve started using another tactic with them.  

I will tell them, “I have asked you to put on your pajamas two times, I will not ask again.”   Some of the time I’ll explain to them exactly what will happen if I come back in the room and their little bodies aren’t wearing their pajamas.    I might explain that by not getting dressed, it tells me they don’t know how to dress themselves so I will dress them.   I tell them I don’t know if they’re going to like how I dress them.   For this example, they’ve both experienced me, playing the role of the mom dressing the doll and doing so fairly roughly because it’s time to get to bed.

Just like the 1-2 counting never gets to three, I think I’m getting close to winning the “asking two times" battle too.

The Big Boy Update:  We were doing some ABC flashcards for boys my friend told us about.   The U was Urinal.   I didn’t think my daughter would know what one was, but I thought my son might.  I asked him if he knew what the picture was that started with the “yuh” (or U) sound.   He looked at it and said, “yoilet?”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Today at dinner my daughter dropped an edamame bean and said, “oh, dammit.”   Uncle Jonathan, my husband and I all looked at each other.   We asked her what she said and she told us, saying it again as she dropped another bean.   We told her she could say, ‘darn it’ instead.  

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