Day 2 of the New Approach: I would have thought I’d be embarrassed about getting really pissed off at L in front of other people, but, as it turns out, I find it more embarrassing to try to reason with him, in gentle tones, while he’s behaving monstrously. Today I was interviewing a potential new sitter. It was 4:30 PM. (My theory is to have the sitters come in at prime-time just to see what happens. I can usually tell in nanoseconds if I like this person or not. If they look at me like a deer in headlights when runs up to them and L asks “What’s your number?” instead of just saying something like “234, what’s yours?” then I know they are not the sitter for me.)
So, in walks C, potential new sitter. She seems calm and yogic. (Is that a word?) She is also cute and a college student, L’s type, so he puts on all his “charm.” This means jumping on the couch alternately with just banging his head on the couch, on me, on the floor and attempted bangs on C all while shouting something or other about jumping and banging. He is not giving a very good first impression from an adult perspective. Who knows? Maybe from a 3-year-old perspective he’s hot stuff? Anyway, my self as of 2 days ago would have firmly warned, threatened and then forcibly dragged L away to a time out. But this is the new Allison. So instead, I gently pull L to me, look him in the eye and ask calmly, “Do you feel like we’re not paying enough attention to you? Is that way you’re acting this way?” I feel like a limp fish.
Our interactions continue in this vein. He acts like a wild person and I calmly try to guess at his motives and put them into words for him. I let him know that I understand how frustrating it must be for him, and promise him my undivided attention in a few minutes when C leaves. Limp.Fish.
Instead of a timeout, I offer him to go upstairs and spend some time with his blankie to help him calm down. Limp.Fish.
Eventually, I do carry him to a timeout. But I never raise my voice. I use this totally foreign quiet calm voice.
Meanwhile I’m just imagining that all C can think is that it’s no small wonder my kid is such a wild brat, and that I’m some new-agey mom who tries to reason with a maniac instead of just doling out consequences.
But I didn’t yell. So that’s a win, right? Even more winning, we then went out to dinner. This is something we NEVER do. I hate being in a restaurant with L. I packed toys, cool ones, and reviewed proper restaurant behavior in the car. He was bratty, loud, and rude and kept escaping the booth by crawling under the table to run around the restaurant, knowing that I couldn’t (wouldn’t) chase him because I would stay with the baby (the very good baby). But I never raised my voice. I did all that ridiculous limp-fish stuff instead. I felt like the most ineffectual parent ever and imagined harsh judgments coming from everyone in the restaurant.
So, that was today. I guess I have to get used to this new thing in order to not feel so foolish doing it. Anyway, the limp fish techniques certainly didn’t produce worse results than my former bribe/punish/reward and yell techniques. And I don’t feel like the world’s worst mom afterward, so that’s a plus! To be completely honest, even though L was giving me some of his best (worst), the situations did not escalate like they normally do. We did not reduce ourselves to yelling on my part and name calling, hitting, kicking, spitting, screaming on his. So maybe this really works?
Normally, after an evening like that, I’d be stewing in anger and guilt right now. I’d hate myself, hate L, hate everything. But right now I feel fine, despite the residual limp fish aftertaste. In the end, I’d rather be a limp fish than a guilt-ridden bitch!
