Today, as my mom was taking garbage out, Pierce followed her and persistently poked with her with a broom he was holding. I walked after him and told him to come inside immediately. His response was:
"I know mommy. I know. I'm going to my room right now." Are those baby steps on an upward progress curve? I believe that's a big fat yes.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Parenting Struggles. I'm reaching out, folks.
So how does one handle an unruly, a defiant, a beautiful, a boy-child? I don't know sometimes. I feel as if I'm on a mommy island and the only thing that makes sense is my confusion, stress, anger, sadness, and guilt. I hope that other parents read this blog and send me nice, big, life-saving packages of advice.
So my son likes to completely disregards my direct requests, which, of course, become orders, which of course remain disregarded. This morning, for instance. I tell him to stay on the cement porch while I do something in the front yard. He's in his white socks and it's almost time to go to school. Without blinking an eye, he steps off the front porch and proceeds to walk into the wet, dirty yard. At this point a million different things are popping off in my head: I'll be done in a second. It's not that wet. I shouldn't stop what I'm doing because I'm almost done. Why does he not listen????? Son of a bitch!
"Get back on the porch. I just told you to stay on there. You need to listen to what mommy tells you do." His path has not deviated in any way, shape, or form. I grabbed him and marched him straight to his room and locked him inside. That's right, I locked him in from the outside of the door. That was the mommy package from Ace Hardware: new locking door knob and a kitchen timer. I, of course, installed the knob inside-out. He's locked in and he proceeds to kick the door. I finished what I was doing and came back inside for a "talk."
"Do you know that being disrespectful and defiant will not get you anything but punishment from me? Do you?"
"I don't care. I'm not listening. I don't care."
"Okay, well fine. When you get home from school, you're going directly to your room for another time out."
"No, I'm not."
"We'll see."
I picked him up, brought him home, and marched him straight to the room. At first he began singing (showing me that it didn't bother him) and then he started to kick the door angrily shouting "Open up the door NOW!" And then, folks, I hear scratching sounds on the wall. I was not even tripping, though, he's quiet, so fine. whatever. After a bit, however, it became oh no. he is too quiet. I went in to the room and lo and behold: crayon scribbles all over my wall. I flipped out! I told him that he was now going to stay in the room the whole evening and no tv for the rest of the day and tomorrow.
I heard through the door: "No one loves me. I'm a bad boy. No one loves me. They all hate me. I'm all alone."
And now I feel like absolute shit.
So my son likes to completely disregards my direct requests, which, of course, become orders, which of course remain disregarded. This morning, for instance. I tell him to stay on the cement porch while I do something in the front yard. He's in his white socks and it's almost time to go to school. Without blinking an eye, he steps off the front porch and proceeds to walk into the wet, dirty yard. At this point a million different things are popping off in my head: I'll be done in a second. It's not that wet. I shouldn't stop what I'm doing because I'm almost done. Why does he not listen????? Son of a bitch!
"Get back on the porch. I just told you to stay on there. You need to listen to what mommy tells you do." His path has not deviated in any way, shape, or form. I grabbed him and marched him straight to his room and locked him inside. That's right, I locked him in from the outside of the door. That was the mommy package from Ace Hardware: new locking door knob and a kitchen timer. I, of course, installed the knob inside-out. He's locked in and he proceeds to kick the door. I finished what I was doing and came back inside for a "talk."
"Do you know that being disrespectful and defiant will not get you anything but punishment from me? Do you?"
"I don't care. I'm not listening. I don't care."
"Okay, well fine. When you get home from school, you're going directly to your room for another time out."
"No, I'm not."
"We'll see."
I picked him up, brought him home, and marched him straight to the room. At first he began singing (showing me that it didn't bother him) and then he started to kick the door angrily shouting "Open up the door NOW!" And then, folks, I hear scratching sounds on the wall. I was not even tripping, though, he's quiet, so fine. whatever. After a bit, however, it became oh no. he is too quiet. I went in to the room and lo and behold: crayon scribbles all over my wall. I flipped out! I told him that he was now going to stay in the room the whole evening and no tv for the rest of the day and tomorrow.
I heard through the door: "No one loves me. I'm a bad boy. No one loves me. They all hate me. I'm all alone."
And now I feel like absolute shit.
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