This week has been a challenging one in the Poland household. Savannah is finally back to her normal schedule with Carl and I both working and Grandma home with her. She didn't particularly like that I had to go to work on Monday morning, but other than that she is back to her normal, adorable, cute, charming....stubborn, rotten self.
When I was pregnant, my mom (jokingly) told me she hoped Savannah was just like I was as a small child....and then laughed. I suppose I was quite a handful. It now appears that not only has Savannah inherited my stubborn and sneaky behavior traits, but she also inherited Carl's charm and curiosity. This is not an easy combination! Shortly after my mom returned to her post as "Grandma", Savannah began climbing on the sectional. She wiggles her way up, then stands on it and waits for one of the adults in her life to tell her to sit. Once we do she flashes that lovely, charming grin of hers. This is such a game to her. So we pick her up, tell her that she has to sit on the couch or get down, and then we put her on the floor. Round two then commences. The steps repeat and she is still this smiley can of ridiculousness. Round three. Round four. It really has to stop sometime, right? She also favors climbing the TV stand, the craft station, her doll stroller, and her mini shopping cart. So there's that.
Savannah is one bright cookie (of course, this is her mom speaking...) and she is beginning to get extremely frustrated when something doesn't go her way and she can't tell us about it. I know that people say once your child talks they never stop, but I cannot wait for Savannah to learn to talk. She just screams, shrieks, or gets physically violent when something frustrates her...talking forever has to be much better than that. (Or at least I keep telling myself that.) The other day she was playing with me in the floor, and apparently I did something to make her mad - so she hit me in the head with her tambourine. I told her that wasn't nice and I wouldn't play with her if she was going to hit me. I set the tambourine down and looked away. She fully understood me...she kept trying to look me in the eye, and eventually she tried to give me the tambourine so I could play. I made her give me a hug and reinforced that hitting isn't nice. She hasn't done it again, yet anyway. This releasing-frustration-through-hitting-or-screaming thing had better stop soon....I only can take so many tambourines to the head. (By the way, Savannah only hits and bites me, never Carl. She also only cries when I leave, never when he leaves. She must be passive aggressive.)
Before Savannah was born we took a lot of parenting classes (honestly I don't think we needed any of them - but they were wonderful for the sense of preparedness it gave me). During one of them, the "expert" said time-outs shouldn't begin until a child is 5 years old. We immediately decided that if we waited until our child was 5 to start time-outs that we were going to send our kid to that "expert" until the age of 18. I fully believe that if the child can understand you, then it is time to set limits. Savannah most definitely understands us. We ask where things are, or tell her where things are, and she eagerly goes to the location. The other day she was incessantly poking Omen (the eldest of the kitties in our home - generally the one most willing to deal with a toddler). Poor Omen. He just glared st Savannah and flicked his tail. He had been napping peacefully in the chair by the window and then she had to come and poke him. I told Savannah that it wasn't nice to poke our cats, and she had the choice to either pet him nice or look at him - No Poking. She looked at me, looked at him, and then walked away. She was completely aware of what she was doing and how to behave. If she is old enough to understand that, she's old enough to be put in time-out. Of course, she is only 14 months old, so while I would love to believe she is a genius, a one-minute time-out is probably all she needs. If we push it much longer than that she probably will have moved on in her thinking and totally not understand why she has to sit still for what seems like ages to her.
So the project for this weekend will involve finding an appropriate time-out mat and timer. I prefer a mat that's easy to carry, after all, time-outs can happen in public (please just walk by when my child is screaming in the middle of the mall on her mat...). My good friend suggested making one from some pretty fabrics and while I'm not really much of a sewing type gal, I may try my hand at this project. After the mat and timer are ready, time-out rules will have to be set for all adults-in-charge to make sure we're consistent. I think that's going to be the hardest part. I want to make sure she is put there for the most egregious offenses. I also want to make sure she is properly warned prior to a time out.
I really want to try to discipline Savannah (and all of my kids) without yelling. I think a stern voice does not require a loud voice. If I scream at her she is just going to learn to scream back. If I want her to respect me, I have to respect her. Honestly I don't get parents that sit in restaurants yelling at their kids so loud other people look. If your kid learned to walk by watching you, don't you think your kid is going to learn to yell at people, just by watching you? How in the world will that child learn to settle disagreements in the real world when the only solution they have seen is yelling and drawing attention? My goal as a parent isn't to be awarded the "Best Mother of the Year" or for others to think I'm a wonderful mom. My goal is to raise children that are responsible adults that can tackle any problem that stands in her/his way.
Time-out has almost made its appearance at the Poland Residence...just in time, too. I just got hit in the head with a tambourine...again.
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