Tag Archives: No hitting

Smack-down

Update: Currently there has been no pee or poo on the potty. And also there is an extreme lack of interest in the potty, ‘big boy pants’ training pants and basically everything to do with potty training.

Now that I’ve got that out of the way, on to more interesting things.

If it isn’t about poo, then you know some other sort of minor disaster is happening over here. It’s all chaos all the time. ALL the time.

We are having a bout of hitting, screaming and ‘MOVE’ happening over here.

First it starts with screaming. The screaming it peppered with whatever the problem is. For example:

“No! No Mickey Mouse! NO!” (2 seconds later, ‘Yay Hot Dog!”)

“No! NO milk! Juice!” (and then 2 seconds later… ‘Milk ok, no juice’~ what the hell?)

“NOOOOO! No Woody shorts! No! No Buzz!!’ (and then, again, 2 seconds later ‘Woody!!! Buzz!! Yay Woody shorts! Yay!’)

Ack. I could go on and on. It’s total bi-partisan over here. Makes my brain hurt.

These extremely frequent outbursts are combined with hitting and biting. WTF.

And our response? Time out.

Yup. Timeout as long as we can make him stay there. Followed by saying “I’m Sorry” and a hug. And then we say “No hitting, no biting” etc, whatever the crimes are…

Mostly though, it’s been those two.

It’s been those ‘two’ repeatedly. Dammit.

He gets mad. And then he bites whatever it is that he is mad at: Suitcase, Dinosaur, spoon, bowl, chair, Mummy, Mummy, Mummy, his own foot, the baby gate etc etc. And after he bites it? He hits it.

Mummy, the dog, that jasmine plant out back that threatened his tricycle, the T.V., the door, the baby gate etc.

Time out.

Time the freak out.

Lord have mercy. Will we ever survive these twos?

And as I am now reporting post-Monday? The answer might be no.

I might not survive, but the ‘Mummy-Monster’ certainly will. That’s my alternate persona’s name (and apparently several other Mothers that I know very well’s name too [ps: that grammar is crappy])

She growls out of me from to time. And those times seem to be happening a little more frequently.

Sentences like “MOVE!”, which, in retrospect, isn’t a sentence, but when said with force repeatedly and combined with sharp and violent pushes (violent for a 2 year old) can make one crazy.

And other sentences like: “No! Noooooooo!” combined with violent movements and the breaking of baby gates. Make you wonder what kind of crazy Olympian I gave birth to.

And then other things like: “No!!!!!!” and “Nooooooooo!” and “Mummy, No! Nooooo!” plus smack smack smack…(plus sound effects)

Mummy-Monster is one intolerant beast. Sharp looks, smack-downs and all that shizzle. Mummy-monster is one tough bitch.

Yup. Better look out, What ever tolerance I might have had for you drivers, walkers, cyclists, strollers etc is now at it’s limit.

So ya, suck it.

With love… a.m.

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Naughty

Running on the end of the weekend, M and I finally get a chance to sit down together and talk.

“How are you?”

“Fine. How are you?”

“Fine. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“True dat. I’ve missed you!” (I know M likes when I talk like that)

“Me too!”

And our weekend went like this:

No internet for the majority of Saturday which really put a damper on M’s giant project, that one that he needed to use his work computer for that could only be accessed wirelessly. And so that day was just a huge disaster. Full of stress, more stress, random calls to BrightHouse and some more stress.

Life? Dull? I think not. And then he had to go to work (Job #2).

Shit.

But, you ask… what happened after that? Oh my! Things just so much better!!

V demonstrated his slapping skills on my face. And demonstrated his hitting skills on my chest. Oh my poor chest. And my poor face. But mostly my poor chest. Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch.

And where did this lovely skill come from? I am assuming Daycare as M and I don’t have the habit of smacking each other around. Dude. Total dislike.

As he was hitting me, he laughed. Repeatedly. And it just made me more upset. No amount of “No” and stern looks made it any better. And I have a really good stern look too. It has, on the odd occasion, made M wash dishes and pick up his underwear.

I digress…

Huge upset for me. Why is he hitting and why is he pretending to enjoy it? What am I parenting wrong? And then, just a random guttural scream.

Later, skyping with my Mum, I spilled the whole shebang.

Mum: “And so he hit you, and then what did you  do?”

Me: “I hit…. oh. I hit him on the hand and said ‘No hitting’. Crap.”

Mum: “Did you just say ‘crap’?

Me: “Yes. And I hit him while saying ‘no hitting’. Huge parenting win for me.”

Mum: “What?” And then she laughed at me.

You will figure out your discipline strategy, she said.

Let me be honest. I have no idea what to do about discipline. No idea at all. At all. So much so that I went and bought a book today.

I mean I do the usual. Stern looks. Solemn speaking. “No. No. No.”

But I say that so much that V now says “Mumma no no no.”

Great. And also lol. But with a period at the end. So that makes it ironic. Or serious. Either.

So I am now reading some books. Books that I will tell you about later as I am about to go to bed with them. Mmmhmm book love.

xoxo a.m plus books (Hi Sunday night !!)

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