Really, I should be in bed right now, but I’m not. Instead, I have found a tiny little snippet of time where I can actually think enough to write something interesting. This week, the issue in Biggest-ville seems to be that he’s discovered how to be cocky. For instance:


Me: Clean up your toys, please.

Biggest: *crawls slowly* *picks up a single block* *puts it in the bucket*

Me: Biggest, it is time to clean up, please use your feet, I’ve already given you half an hour past your bedtime. No more dawdling.

Biggest: *stands up* *walks slowly to another block* *uses two hands for one block* *puts it in the bucket*

Me: (loses it).


This particular event happened tonight. Thanks to working, or possibly my new medication, I’ve been a lot more relaxed, and therefore a lot more effective in my parenting. The result of “losing it” was to simply cart him off to bed. Plopped on the floor, the conversation continues.


Me: *cleans cars off bed into bucket*

Biggest: I’ll get those tomorrow, right?

Me: No, I had to clean them up, you lost your chance to do it nicely, and I’m a little angry right now. I don’t think I’ll be giving them back in the morning.

Biggest: But… I’ll get them tomorrow. *realizes the failing of his usually successful stall tactics* OR SOMETIME RIGHT???

Me: Yep. Sometime.

Biggest: (now attempting to save face to avoid the loss of his cars) Here, Mommy!

Me: I’m sorry Biggest, you’ve lost the opportunity to do this nicely. Sit back on your butt.

Biggest: Ohhhhh…


Shortly thereafter…


Me: Go pee.

Biggest: *slowly walks to the bathroom* *slowly pees*

Me: Did you wash your hands?

Biggest: NO! I did not! (in that wheedling tone of voice that you know for a fact means the person in question figures their importance allows for an option)

Me: Wash your hands!

Biggest: *stalls behind the door*

Me: Ok. I’ve had enough. I’m washing your hands.

Biggest: Nope. I will do it.

Me: No. You had your chance, it’s too late now. I will be doing it.

Biggest: *has floor tantrum*

Me: *washes his hands*

Biggest: (whining) My pants are weeeeeet!

Me: Too bad. (there was only a couple of drips)

Biggest: I want them off.

Me: Sorry, those are the ones you’re wearing.


And off to bed he went. Normally the interaction would end with me giving him four different chances to clean, followed by cleaning up toys by myself anyway, with the odd time being him cleaning all of it up and going to bed an hour late. Further, it is not without plenty of sass and talking back. So today, folks. I put my foot down. I don’t know if it was effective or not, but I did it anyway. It’s something I’ve been learning of late: respect from children is best earned when you respect yourself, and being walked all over because you can’t put your foot down just leads to frustration for both you and your child. So today, I didn’t want to be run over, and I wasn’t.Ā  I have to admit though, I feel a little bad for Biggest, because he has no idea that I was the original author of Stubborn… Might be an interesting week.


Have a wonderful weekend!

The Handler.


Oh, right, I almost forgot. We are getting ready to potty train Littlest, but I have run into a snag… they don’t make underwear in a 12m size. Whoops!


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