Random Bits

So, it’s a bit out of focus but this picture cracks me up. 

Let’s see, what bits do I have to share with you this week.

Happy had a breakdown this past weekend over handwashing.  It seems that washing one’s hands three times consecutively is not enough.  There must be more handwashing.  More.  More. More.  And if there is not more handwashing, there will be screaming and devastation and tears, dramatic tears copious enough to wash one’s hands in.  So, I did what every good mother does.  I walked away and did my own thing for about ten minutes and then came back to the scene of the crime, where the volume on the screaming was only higher and the dramatic body thrusting only more dramatic and said, “Hey, do you want to dance it out?”  Happy said, “Yeah” and we proceeded to jam in his bedroom to some Widespread Panic (because, clearly, the nearest IPod’s was BF’s and not mine.  Although it must be said that thanks to a fun CD that my friend Laura made me, Walkin’ by Widespread is a Happy and Mom favorite).  Here is the lesson:  When all else fails, dance it out.

We have basically installed a Time Out revolving door at our house because this is how things go down:

Happy picks something up like a block or car and gets a look in his eye that says “I am going to throw this. Hard.”  The kid is crazy strong so we want to discourage the indoor throwing of heavy objects in a finite space as much as possible.  And so I will look at him and say, “Happy, no throwing” or something along those lines, and he’ll weigh the car or block in his hand, thinking about it.  Hmm, is it worth whatever is going to happen to me or not?  And because time out does NOTHING to him, it’s worth it, so he throws it.  I say something along the lines of “Because you made the choice to throw the {insert object here}, you have to go to time out.” I take him to time out.  He gleefully hollers out “Mommy!” and then I return a minute or so later to explain what he did wrong, tell him that I love him, I just didn’t like his choice and ask for an apology, a hug, and a kiss.  He does all this, says a very pathetic “I’m sorry, Mommy.”  Tells me “No Throw” seven or eight times until he works his way back to the block or car in question and, you guessed it, throws it again.  Back through the timeout revolving door we go.  Last week, we did it 10 times while his speech therapist supervisor was here.  Because I don’t care whose around, if you need time out, you need time out (even if time out doesn’t seem to change the immediate behavior, it’s the principle of the matter at that point).  So, I’m thinking I am just supposed to stay the course, but, holy cow, I think there might be some days with this one where more time is spent in time out than out of it.  Anybody else have a kid who totally seemed to deflect timeout?