When Smart Kids Happen to Dumb Parents

If I ever write a self-help/parenting book, that will definitely be the title. My main idea will be something like, "how to effectively discipline your child without punishing yourself, fibbing, or hurting someone."

Yesterday it occurred to me that my child's behavior problems have been the same for about a year now. There's been a recent addition of dishonesty, but according to babycenter.com, that's a developmental step for 3.5 year olds. Anything that I deem "normal for all kids" isn't an issue in my head. It's those times when I'm like, "This is totally abnormal and something is wrong with either me or him" that I get worried and start wondering how to change my tactics.

So the issue is really one of both linguistic and fine motor development. I like to call it "Explosive Bilabial Outbursts," but most people would just say it's spitting while saying "P" words. Plain and simple spitting. It happens when he's not getting his way or hears something that doesn't sound like a fun idea. He gets right in my face and says, "POOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And yesterday while we were playing at our neighbor's house, it reared it's ugly head in a fine, glorious display of preschool will. And my neighbor and I had just been discussing how the punishment needs to fit the crime, so I decided to take him in the house to separate him from the situation completely.

And there lies the issue ... now I felt like I was being punished too. No longer could I talk to my neighbor or sit outside enjoying 100% humidity and 90 degrees. I had to go inside too and I knew that after the time-out period was over, I'd be desperately searching for some way to entertain us both.

But I felt really certain that he needed to be away from the whole situation AND because this has seriously been a problem for a year now, I decided that yesterday it needed to stop completely and that I was capable of accomplishing that through an extended period of privilege removal.

We read stories for an hour and then at 6 p.m. we ate dinner. During dinner there were some other behavior problems, so I, in my determination to build Rome in a day, went the "go to bed early" route.

I remembered that my mother had told me about something she read, where a mom had told her child that because of his repeated misbehavior, she had consulted the pediatrician, and that the doctor had said it was probably lack of sleep and that he just needed to go to bed earlier.

So during our post-dinner story time, I said, "Now John. I've spoken with Dr. Williams and she said that probably you're making bad behavior choices because you're not getting enough sleep. So, tonight you're going to bed an hour early."

He just stared at me for awhile. Then he said, in utter disbelief, "You called Dr. Williams?!?!?!? WHY DID YOU TELL DR. WILLIAMS ABOUT MY BEHAVIOR?!?!?!?!?!?"

And it actually wasn't until that moment that I realized I was caught in the middle of a huge LIE.
Which I promptly kept going, as all good mothers are wont to do.

I reiterated the whole thing and then at 7 p.m., I put him in bed for the night.

For an hour, there was on and off, "Can I get up now?" followed by my "NO" followed by mild whimpering. I just kept going in there to reassure him that I loved him but that he must change his behavior.

Finally, at 8 p.m., I went in to say my final goodnight and I found him looking out the window singing this song:

I'm up here in bed

Missing all the fun

Cuz Dr. Williams said

I need to get more sleep.

Then the verse was repeated ... a dirge-like refrain full of minor note combinations and a sad almost-iambic pentameter.

So I climbed up there with him in that awful loft bed that we bought, and, after complimenting him on the song, I asked him if he knew why he was in bed early. He did, exactly ... recounted the whole thing, so I reiterated the need for a behavior change, then told him a story, did the five-minute countdown, the monster check, the fresh water refill, and left. He was soon asleep and I was thinking what a great idea that all was (despite the lie).

This morning at 6:30 a.m. I was awakened by the pitter patter, who everyday ignore the not-before-7 a.m. rule. He crawled into my bed, covered me with kisses and hugs, and then ever so gingerly ...

POOF.