
The Morning Grumpies Turned Around
I moved us over to the couch and pulled him onto my lap and held him while he cried away all the cluttered emotions that were getting in his way.
I moved us over to the couch and pulled him onto my lap and held him while he cried away all the cluttered emotions that were getting in his way.
My wife and I also had to process our feelings: it didn’t feel good to hear how painful it was for us to limit her social life in this way. She felt badly, we felt badly.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, my son turned into Houdini and escaped from his car seat. It was now taking an average of two hours just to get a few miles.
I talked about nail biting, how I feel about it, and how I feel about my sons doing it. It felt to me as if nail biting was one of those habits that was almost impossible to shake off. I felt that my sons were doomed to live with the habit for the rest of their lives.
Later that day, when, once again, he did not get the chair he wanted, he STARTED to reach out and hit, but with pause, he stopped, and at the suggestion of another teacher to sit in another chair, he complied!
I decided that we had to do some Special Time (whether we wanted to or not!)
I was able to speak clearly and assertively about my feelings and what I had witnessed. He was very open to hearing me and shared some common concerns.
We talked about holding hands crossing the road and I pointed out the safe places for him to ride on his own. That was good for awhile.
I have been working on how to wait when someone else has something my son wants. It all started with hoping to teach my son how to share and play with other kids without my son hitting. Someone would have something he wanted or other way around. So, I have learned to stay close to help him during these times and hold the limit.
Take some time to write down your success stories and when you’re having a rough day pull them out and remember what a good parent you are.
I quickly grabbed a small notebook and pen, scribbled, “Dear Owen, I love you, Love Mommy” on a sheet of paper, and shoved it under the door.
Now, that it was time to brush teeth and go to bed, they were not in the mood.
I asked her if she could tell me what was bothering her about the boots. She took the boots and threw them.
The next time I saw him on tippy toes, with a worried look on his face, I moved towards him and put my arms around him. I said “Hey mate, it looks like you need to do a poo. I’m going to help you”. That was all he needed to start crying – he fought hard against me as he cried, “No, No, NO! I don’t want to.”
After the listening time I began to think of how the teacher must feel. If she was calling the children crybabies, she must not be feeling very good herself.
I spent some “Special Time” with her, playing until we felt like we knew each other. Eventually, she told me that she wanted to stop sucking her thumb. I said that I would stay with her while she tried to think about taking her thumb out of her mouth, but that I wasn’t going to make her take it out.
I knew that she was judging herself harshly, and I wanted to see if she could work through it.
So, the night before last seemed the perfect night to put my limit setting to the test. When my youngest woke up and wanted to come to our bed, I said in a loving tone, “No. I’m going to go sleep with Aba (dad), and you are going to stay here in bed with your brother.”