A New Sheriff In Town

I just swatted my son. He rubbed his hiney, scowled, and finally did what I've been asking, begging, pleading, demanding of him. I don't even remember what it was now. But it's been that way between the two of us all day long. I don't mean the swatting, or spanking as some call it, although the incident I'm referring to was a definite swat as opposed to spanking. I mean he and I've been dancing this same dance over and over and over..... Well, you get the point. Anyway, that got me to thinking.

I've always tried to reserve swatting for attention grabbing situations. Say, one of the babes was just having a melt down and all other attempts to get through to the distraught babe had failed, then a swift swat to the hiney would be in order. You know what I mean, a swat of just enough magnitude to get through to them in order to employ other means of distraction or discipline.

Before I go any further, because I can only imagine the kind of email I'm going to receive regarding this topic, I don't judge on how you want to raise your child. He/she is your child and it's your place to decide how best to do that. Not mine. Again, I don't judge. It didn't take me very long into parenthood to realize all those preconceived, parental guidance handbook, warm and fuzzy prenatal intentions aren't always practical. I've learned that it takes a wide and wild mix of creative efforts in order to get the point across and the babe back in line.

Most often I stick to time outs by way of counting. It's kind of a 1-2-3 strikes and you're out sort of deal. It's great for "stop behaviors". When practiced consistently it's great for stopping whatever it is you want stopped. I'm learning that for "start behaviors" it's less effective. I find myself resorting to exhortion more than not when I want Firstborn to "start" something. I really dislike this and am open to suggestions if you've got any.

Oh, and when I say most often I stick to time outs, I mean before we moved. With all the chaos of back and forth trips to Alabama before our move, packing, parenting, and the move itself I became lax. I became inconsistent. I became ineffective.

To make matters worse Hubbs is working even crazier hours than his prior job. He's finally back in town from training, but we only see him a few minutes each day. No joke, just a few minutes. Firstborn is having an extremely difficult time with this. Every fourth sentence out of his mouth is, "I miss Daddy".

You've got a mommy with a splitting headache at the end of a long, long day and you mix in a three year old boy displaying all behaviors from acting out for attention, the chaos of a move, and inconsistent discipline and my friends, you've got yourself a recipe for disaster.

Okay, maybe not a disaster, but it certainly wasn't my best moment. And I could see it in his eyes. Everything about that look said, "Who are you and what have you done with my Mommy."

Arguably, I could have given him a similar look.

He and I've become lost in all, well, frankly, all of "this". It's time I got back on track. And that's my aim. Know this kid. Tomorrow, I'm bringing my "A game". I'm buckling down and bringing a new sheriff to town. There'll be counting and time outs the likes of which he's never seen. Firstborn won't know what hit him. And, this time it won't be me.

Wait. What's tomorrow? That's right! Hubby's off tomorrow! Heck, they're all his while I'm off to the market and the rest of my mommy errands. Guess tomorrow's your lucky day, cowboy!