We're getting dangerously close some days to accepting defeat over here. Just tonight, Richard and I tried to have a conversation about a small construction project we've been wanting to do for a few years and now have finally gotten down to actually...almost... having it done. Our 5 minute conversation was literally stopped and started so many times that it took over 1 1/2 to finish! We are barely able to finish a sentence anymore. Before we were 'kidded', we would sit in judgement when trying to visit with friends whose kids would so consume the energy in the room that our memory of the evening would consist only of started conversations and dropped lines of thought. I remember being so scatter-brained coming away from get-togethers with families of young children . . .well, now we're that family.
Sitting at the dinner table tonight, I'll bet we said, "Connor, don't interrupt", about 22 times. Sometimes, I'll take a step back and try to gain some perspective on the state of our war on misbehavior and battles with discipline, and I'm agast at my leniency.
A couple of months ago, Connor's willful lack of restraint shown tonight (I know that some of it is just pent-up energy) would've sent him to time-out about a dozen times; but, alas, by the end of the evening, my mommy-fatigue resorts only to empty threats to 'stop that' and 'don't do that'.
Some of the most frequent imperatives in our house these days:
1. Come back to the table right now, Connor.
2. Sit in you chair and stop getting up until you've finished eating.3. Stop yelling at Aidan. Be nice to your baby brother.
4. Stop turning off and on the lights.
5. Don't ask me that question again--you already know that answer! (usually after the 10th time asking the same question)
6. Don't yell at Mommy or Daddy.
7. Stop interrupting!!!!!!!!
Inevitably, these demands are never met with compliant behavior. So, usually, the next words out of our mouths are:
"Go sit in time-out!"
Inevitably, these demands are never met with compliant behavior. So, usually, the next words out of our mouths are:
"Go sit in time-out!"
Richard and I both have a renewed appreciation for the aggravation that our parents had to endure and we are marvelling at their patience, restraint. . . and also at what few grey hairs they have despite our attempt to will every last hair to fade to white.
Nonetheless...
Our frustration tonight at the dinner table turned (as it usually does) from furrowed brows to giggles and smiles when Connor decided to interrupt that one..more..time. That was it--it was going to be the time that Daddy was going to have to remove him from the table and take him into the bedroom for some special 'time out'. Then Connor said, "Daddy, HUGS!!!", and he jumped down from the chair (that is #2 no no on the list) and ran over to Richard's chair to hug him (his hands were covered in fish stick crumbs) as if he just remembered that he wanted a hug.
Our frustration tonight at the dinner table turned (as it usually does) from furrowed brows to giggles and smiles when Connor decided to interrupt that one..more..time. That was it--it was going to be the time that Daddy was going to have to remove him from the table and take him into the bedroom for some special 'time out'. Then Connor said, "Daddy, HUGS!!!", and he jumped down from the chair (that is #2 no no on the list) and ran over to Richard's chair to hug him (his hands were covered in fish stick crumbs) as if he just remembered that he wanted a hug. It's like Connor knows just about the time that the fuse is about the blow. . .and then he delivers the final punch and completely takes control of the situation.
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