Now that Pudden is getting on a bit - sitting up, grabbing things, cutting teeth and starting to have opinions about stuff - the Noodle is starting to get a wee bit jealous and has taken to body slamming Pudden on a semi regular basis.
Knickers and I have had long discussions on the relative merits of lashing Noodle to the Hill's Hoist for a night or simply slamming him back ourselves as effective measures of behaviour management, but would hate to have to dob each other in as we are now both mandated notifiers.
Instead we are forced to use the less effective tools of reason and time out:
Noodle: SLAM!
Pudden: WAH!
Myninjacockle: Did you just knock Pudden over?
N: I want to have a swing.
M: Look, I know you knocked your brother over, I saw you.
N: Please Daddy.
M: That was very naughty.
N: NO, NOT NAUGHTY.
M: No, you're not a naughty boy, but that was a naughty thing to do. ('Cause the literature says you address the behaviour, not the child. Stupid literature)
P: WAH!
N: NO, NOT NAUGHTY.
P: WAH, WAH for Christ's sake I could have a brain hemorrhage would someone please pay me some bloody attention WAH!
M: (picking up P) Now you have to go to time out and think about what you've done.
N: Don't want to go to time out.
M: Well you shouldn't have knocked Pudden over then should have you. Now you say sorry.
N: (sweetly)Sorry Pudden.
M: Now sit on the time out step.
N: NO, DON'T WANT TO.
M: Get on the step by the time I count three. This is your last chance, ONE...TWO...
(N takes off, M places P on ground and begins pursuit, brief struggle ensues.)
M: (dragging screaming N back to laundry and attempting to deposit him on the step)SIT ON THE BLOODY STEP.
N: (making like ironing board) DON'T WANT TIME OUT.
M: Fine, lie there then (attempts to close laundry door, N leaps up and grabs door)
M: (attempting to regain tone of reason)Now we don't play with doors do we?
N: DON'T WANT TIME OUT.
M: (forgets stupid fucking literature and pushes N off door with foot, closes door.)Now you think about being nice to your little brother.
N: (sounds like pack a of rabid pitbulls destroying everything in laundry) AARRGGHH!
M: (picks up P, makes cup of tea, pitbulls eventually leave, opens laundry door) Now I want you to look at me.
N: (not looking)I want a biscuit please.
M: No, look at me and say 'I won't knock Pudden over again Daddy'.
N: (still not looking) I want swing please Daddy.
M: (Broken) Fine, we'll play on the swing.
Labels: Parenting