Those who know me well, know that I've always had an aversion for rules. I just don't like them! I don't like making them. I certainly don't like following them. But, I have a two year old now and rules, well, they seem kinda necessary. Thus far, we've really only had to establish one rule in our house: Throw balls. Throw kisses. Nothing else!
Like me, the lil' man doesn't really dig rules. He just wants to throw shit. I can't really fault him, throwing shit is pretty fucking awesome. But ... it can also be dangerous. At first, when the lil' man threw something that was not a ball or a kiss, we tried putting him in a timeout. He quickly figured out that the joy of throwing stuff was definitely worth sitting in a timeout. He'd throw something and nonchalantly utter a single word, "timeout." Then he'd walk to a chair, climb up, sit there for a few, then say "all done" and get down. Okay. Let's move on to the next idea.
The box. "Okay lil' man. Whatever you throw, that is not a ball or a kiss goes into this box. AND it's never, ever, coming out. At first, he was still quite the prolific thrower. However, the throwing diminished after he realized that I wasn't fucking around. My cherished possessions actually DO go into the box and they do NOT reappear. But, he slowly started testing the rules. He quickly realized that he could throw certain items without consequence. A sippy cup full of milk, for example. That's certainly not going in the box. Daddy's matchboxes, those don't stay in the box for long. Mommy's phone certainly does not go in the box. You get my drift. The worst part of the process was, that after throwing these items not to be boxed, he'd say, "That goes in the box." How could this not make me proud? Pretty sweet problem solving skills, my clever lil' dude.
I didn't feel so proud on Thursday, as he chased his favorite little friend, Blakeslee through the sandbox at the playground. Ugh ... the hand at the end of his cocked arm was holding a dump truck. I only had a moment to plead, "Please don't ..."—the dump truck whizzed past the back of her head. Oh man! Time for daddy to be a dink. But, ...?
We went home, had lunch, and I put him down for his nap. I spent the 20 glorious minutes thinking about the next step. Blah. Blah. Blah. Then it hit me. Embarrassment! To this day I remember a single moment of punishment from my lil' shit youth that actually worked. I was hanging with some friends at the mall. My mom picked us up and as we walked through the parking lot, I tossed an itsy bitsy penny. My furious mother, who must be the child of the great depression or something, was not happy about this tossing of the penny. She screeched, "Go pick that up!" I thought, "Why? It's a fucking penny. Not like it's a quarter." But the look on her face! As my friends sneered, I crawled under a car and retrieved the penny. Let me tell you, I've not thrown a penny since.
It's Thursday. The farmers' market is on Thursday and all of the lil' man's friends will be there. Ding dong! When the lil' man woke from his power nap, we started putting our family picnic together . Once "we" had gathered all the normal picnic crap, I snuck into THE box. I grabbed his favorite item, a thrown object that had been confined for more than two months, the "wheels on the bus" school bus that mommy had given him. When the lil' man saw the bus, his eyes brightened and he exclaimed, "Play with that!" But, I had to tell the lil' man, "Sorry. You can't play with this. You're going to take this to the market tonight and give it to Blakeslee." He just looked at me. I asked, "Do you know why you're going to give this to Blakeslee?" He replied, "Throw it." No explanation was necessary. Yes. He get's it. This is going to work.
We arrived at the market and were quickly surrounded by all of our people. As soon as he saw Blakeslee, he grabbed the school bus and ran towards her. Excitedly he exclaimed, "Give this bus to Blakeslee!" She happily took the bus. I asked, "Can you please tell Blakeslee why you're giving the bus to her?" He replied, "Throw it." Again, I felt, he get's it. But ... oh shit! He doesn't seem embarrassed. And. Ummm. He certainly doesn't seem to mind giving away one of his favorite toys, either.
It's been less than 48 hours since the—give away the toys you throw in front of all of your friends— "punishment" took place. I'd like to report that, like me, our lil' man is, a not easily embarrassed generous chap. Well, I'm hopeful that's what the drastic increase in thrown shit is about.
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