Things just can't go easy, can they? Waking up was fine and getting ready for work was fine...well, except that Ander insisted he get in the bathtub with me and when I refused he plunged both -thick-pj-clad hands into the water, leaving his arms a dripping mess.
But it was changing him that was a horror. He just refuses to let me change his diaper now until after he has a timeout. And, of course, I refuse to just say timeout. I follow the mantra that timeouts must be proceeded by a warning. So changing a diaper (and clothes, in the morning...and drippy, wet clothes, in this particular case) means a ten minute struggle.
"Ander, time to put on your cool orange shirt for Maw Maw's house. Come on, Ander, jump up on that changing table. Ander, do not kick mommy's tummy. That hurts. If you kick mommy's tummy again, you'll go in timeout. Timeout because you hurt mommy. Now stay here for two minutes. Are you sorry? Okay, let's change you." At this point, he fully cooperates. So the timeout is effective. Except that he doesn't cooperate at all UNTIL AFTER the timeout, no matter how fun and inticing I make the activity sound.
Then I had to take my blood sugar. It was a bit high, considering I had few carbs last night. (I didn't love the Bonefish Grill, just FYI.) But my dietician sister says it's still in the normal range and nothing to worry about.
Finally, I got to my mom's. But the bank down the street closed, so she had to use my car to go to the bank. So, finally, at almost 9:30 a.m., I off to the kiddie jail (to interview a client), then the office (to sign a pile of pleadings), and then, this afternoon, to a meeting in LaPlace (for another juvenile client). Sigh. It's going to be an interesting day, but it's hard being already behind before 10 a.m.
Etcetera.
3 comments:
i pretty sure you already know this but: we count to 3. because i do not like repeating myself endlessly. 3 doesn't mean timeout though. 3 means, "your opportunity to do it yourself has passed and now i am going to help you do it; which you probably won't like." or as i told another mom once, "3" means i am serious. it has worked really well so far.
"Now I am going to help you do it" is so not an option with my pregnant belly. He's going to let me change his daiper, without kicking me in the stomach or face, and he's going to do that by himself. I am serious about not kicking far before I would ever get to three, and there's nothing unclear about my tone when I tell him that.
I use 1,2,3 a lot, myself, but definitely not in this situation. For example, if I tell him to turn off the tv, I count. And if by three he doesn't do it, I turn it off. Usually he does it. If not, it goes off. No biggie. But I'm a big believer in not giving extra time when it comes to violence.
So he doesn't get three seconds to stop kicking mommy, hard. I refuse to tolerate kicking me, and especially my belly, for ANY amount of time.
As a followup to my post...after I rode 20 minutes to the juvenile jail, they announced that my client had gotten bailed out weeks ago. Thanks so much for telling me. Sigh. What a wasted morning.
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