Monday – The Brownie Talk
Jun. 1st, 2009 11:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
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My husband and I are masters of the calm, reasoned, corrective talk method of pointing out errors to our child. We learned early on that he was not the sort of kid who responds to being yelled at (rather than correct his behavior, it escalates the emotions of all involved). When he acts up, we firmly and gently remind him of the rule he has broken, and state how we want him to have in the future.* Still, it's pretty funny to get the same treatment from him when he believes we have broken rules. My husband learned this on Friday night when he we the recipient of not one, but two calm, reasoned lectured from a very stern and serious preschooler.
My son had spent the morning with his father, and during that time he had dragged his Thomas the Tank Engine railroad tracks out into the living room and constructed a very elaborate railway system that actually ran through the middle of his Fisher Price Little People barn. Jeff had picked up the rest of the toys in the living room, but left the railroad intact since our little boy had invested so much time and hard work in it. When the two of us arrived home from his grandparents house, where he'd spent the afternoon, my son noticed a piece of his tracks that was not attached to the rest.
"Mommy," he said, holding up the piece of track, "did you take this off of my train tracks?"
I told him I hadn't touched his railroad tracks, so it couldn't have been me.
"Did Daddy?"
I told him I didn't know.
After dinner, he asked for a brownie for dessert. He and I had made the brownies together the previous weekend, and he thought it might be nice to have one. When I opened the container that the brownies had been in, it was empty. I told him it looked like his father had taken the last of the brownies. When he whimpered a bit, I told him we could make more over the weekend (and we did).
Later, I called my husband at work to touch base. My son asked for the phone.
"Your son wants to talk to you," I told Jeff.
"Daddy, did you move a piece of my railroad track?" His face was serious and concerned, as was his voice.
I heard my husband say that he had picked up the toys, but that he did not take any of the track pieces off. He explained that a piece of the track had not been attached to the others, and that he'd left it next to them where he'd found it.
"Okay, but don't take my tracks apart because I need them together," my son said, and handed the phone back to me.
"He told you," I said.
"Really!" Jeff laughed, and we continued to talk until I looked up and saw my son standing in front of me again.
"I need to talk to Daddy again," he said, "We need to have the Brownie Talk."
"He wants to talk to you again," I told Jeff, "You're really in trouble this time."
"Daddy," my calm, stern young man said into the phone, his small brow furrowed in a slight scowl, "did you eat my brownies all gone?"
I heard Jeff's muffled voice, also using the calm reasoned tone, explaining that he had, indeed taken the last of the brownies to work with his lunch.
My son sighed. "Daddy, when I make brownies, I don't want you to eat them all gone. You can have one brownie, but don't eat them all, okay?" He handed the phone back to me, and walked off to go play.
"You big jerk," I whispered when the tot was out of earshot, "you ate all his brownies. Now we have to make more."
"I guess you do," he said.
"See that it doesn't happen again. Do I need to make a double batch next time?"
"I think that would help," my husband said, "At the very least, I guess I need to not take the last one when we get low. I'd hate to get my ass chewed like that again."
"Serves you right, brownie thief."
"And railroad wrecker. Don't forget that."
"You have no socially redeeming qualities, do you?"
"None whatsoever. But I've been lectured now, so I'll try to do better."
"If his talking to to you doesn't help, I may have to spank you next time."
"Promises, promises," the brownie thief said.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
* This works at home, believe it or not. It's with other people who try negative reinforcement that things have gotten out of hand, and they learn real quick what it's like to deal with a "spirited" child in meltdown mode.
.
.
My husband and I are masters of the calm, reasoned, corrective talk method of pointing out errors to our child. We learned early on that he was not the sort of kid who responds to being yelled at (rather than correct his behavior, it escalates the emotions of all involved). When he acts up, we firmly and gently remind him of the rule he has broken, and state how we want him to have in the future.* Still, it's pretty funny to get the same treatment from him when he believes we have broken rules. My husband learned this on Friday night when he we the recipient of not one, but two calm, reasoned lectured from a very stern and serious preschooler.
My son had spent the morning with his father, and during that time he had dragged his Thomas the Tank Engine railroad tracks out into the living room and constructed a very elaborate railway system that actually ran through the middle of his Fisher Price Little People barn. Jeff had picked up the rest of the toys in the living room, but left the railroad intact since our little boy had invested so much time and hard work in it. When the two of us arrived home from his grandparents house, where he'd spent the afternoon, my son noticed a piece of his tracks that was not attached to the rest.
"Mommy," he said, holding up the piece of track, "did you take this off of my train tracks?"
I told him I hadn't touched his railroad tracks, so it couldn't have been me.
"Did Daddy?"
I told him I didn't know.
After dinner, he asked for a brownie for dessert. He and I had made the brownies together the previous weekend, and he thought it might be nice to have one. When I opened the container that the brownies had been in, it was empty. I told him it looked like his father had taken the last of the brownies. When he whimpered a bit, I told him we could make more over the weekend (and we did).
Later, I called my husband at work to touch base. My son asked for the phone.
"Your son wants to talk to you," I told Jeff.
"Daddy, did you move a piece of my railroad track?" His face was serious and concerned, as was his voice.
I heard my husband say that he had picked up the toys, but that he did not take any of the track pieces off. He explained that a piece of the track had not been attached to the others, and that he'd left it next to them where he'd found it.
"Okay, but don't take my tracks apart because I need them together," my son said, and handed the phone back to me.
"He told you," I said.
"Really!" Jeff laughed, and we continued to talk until I looked up and saw my son standing in front of me again.
"I need to talk to Daddy again," he said, "We need to have the Brownie Talk."
"He wants to talk to you again," I told Jeff, "You're really in trouble this time."
"Daddy," my calm, stern young man said into the phone, his small brow furrowed in a slight scowl, "did you eat my brownies all gone?"
I heard Jeff's muffled voice, also using the calm reasoned tone, explaining that he had, indeed taken the last of the brownies to work with his lunch.
My son sighed. "Daddy, when I make brownies, I don't want you to eat them all gone. You can have one brownie, but don't eat them all, okay?" He handed the phone back to me, and walked off to go play.
"You big jerk," I whispered when the tot was out of earshot, "you ate all his brownies. Now we have to make more."
"I guess you do," he said.
"See that it doesn't happen again. Do I need to make a double batch next time?"
"I think that would help," my husband said, "At the very least, I guess I need to not take the last one when we get low. I'd hate to get my ass chewed like that again."
"Serves you right, brownie thief."
"And railroad wrecker. Don't forget that."
"You have no socially redeeming qualities, do you?"
"None whatsoever. But I've been lectured now, so I'll try to do better."
"If his talking to to you doesn't help, I may have to spank you next time."
"Promises, promises," the brownie thief said.
* This works at home, believe it or not. It's with other people who try negative reinforcement that things have gotten out of hand, and they learn real quick what it's like to deal with a "spirited" child in meltdown mode.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-02 01:56 am (UTC)