06 May

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 12 comments

The Choice is Forced

In an effort to really sell the “terrible” in “terrible twos”, my son has become a very selfish, defiant and lazy guy. Lately, trying to get my son to do anything usually results in him screaming for five minutes.

We’re dealing with this stage as best we can, all the while reminding ourselves that it is just a stage (and if it’s not, there’s always military school) and all the while self-medicating ourselves into being excited that he’s learning how to express himself and grow more independent and have opinions, if you can call “no!” and “mine!” opinions.

He knows what he wants and he knows what he doesn’t want, and never the twain shall meet.

Since time-outs are so ineffective and cages and tranquilizers are frowned upon, we’ve had to resort to other methods to attempt to control the beast.

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30 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 4 comments

No Means Woe

I remember when my son learned to say “No.” The moment haunts my dreams.

Much like the discovery of lying, when a child learns to say “no,” it’s another step on the road to having a teenager. Another step on the road from merely “keeping your offspring alive” to actually “raising a human being.” Another step on the road from having low blood pressure and a healthy head of hair to looking, and heart-attacking, like Roger Sterling.

As a new parent with grand ideas of how you’ll raise the perfect child and do everything right, you initially try to limit how often you say “no” in the hopes that your kid won’t pick up on its power and start wielding it himself. But he does. He certainly has in my house.

And now it’s no longer about avoiding no; it’s about reclaiming it. Because these days, the word is all his.

The Dishonest Toddler

The other day, I was awakened by my son yelling from his crib. This is not unusual. I would say this happens every day. Every. Single. Day. But this day was a little bit different. Because instead of merely calling for mommy or daddy, he was screaming, “I got poop in my butt!”

That doesn’t happen every day, neither the yelling of it nor the reality of it. People don’t normally shit in their sleep, not even little kids. So it was a bit strange that he had.

Except he hadn’t: he was lying.

And so it begins…

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21 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 3 comments

Meet the New Boss

As you may or may not know, I tweet a lot. Most of my tweets are at my son’s expense, some are at my expense, and a handful are at my wife’s expense, much to her chagrin. Some are true, some are pure fiction, and some – perhaps most – are true-ish.

Like this one, which is among my most retweeted:

“The fact that I just angrily yelled ‘You’re not the boss of me!’ at my two-year-old is a pretty clear indication that he definitely is.”

I don’t believe I’ve ever yelled that at my son; at least not out loud. But it’s 100% true, just the same.

Delaying Game

There’s an art to putting things off.

When you are trying to avoid doing something you don’t want to do, you find other ways to fill your time. Hopefully other, better ways.

For example, my wife often says “I have a headache.” Not only can I neither confirm nor deny the presence of an ache in her head, making it the perfect excuse, she gets to go to sleep. And when you have a toddler, nothing is better than sleep.

When you are a toddler and you are trying to put off doing something you don’t want to do, you are in a pickle. Because not only do you have just about zero independence, thus limiting your ability to find alternative uses for your time, you’re also stupid.

Dad and Buried

Category: discipline

The Choice is Forced

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No Means Woe

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The Dishonest Toddler

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Meet the New Boss

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Delaying Game

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