As Yo Mama Taught Me:
Act enthusiastic and you'll be enthusiastic!
Act enthusiastic and you'll be enthusiastic!
Nothing and I mean nothing works in terms of disciplining Rufus. Timeouts don't work. A swat doesn't work. Removing privileges doesn't work. Yelling doesn't work. And in fact, I think that immunity is rubbing off on Boudreaux, too. It's like they have ganged up to prove that I am an old fraud who will scream and yell and stomp my feet at the drop of a hat. The sound and the fury...signifying nothing. I guess this is probably the truth. I don't ask Bumpus, because he will give me a lecture.
So last week, Rufus was practicing his endurance skills by repeatedly pushing my buttons over absolute trivia. He was fully, 110% succeeding in pushing me over the edge as at 6 PM. The bird was screeching, Magoo was crying, the cats were yowling, and I was having one of my 25-per day sneezing fits, wetting my pants a little with every ACHOOO. Whatever it was he asked, I do not remember. The important point is that he had pushed me so far beyond my limit that my head might have exploded right off of my shoulders just like a Roman candle on July 4th, with sparks shooting colored balls out of my neck. Something snapped, and instead of yelling (why compete with all the other decibels in the house?), I turned to him, put a huge fake grin on my face, looked straight at him but sort of unfocused my eyes, and answered him in a very fake, very cheery voice. I have since come to call it "The Psycho Clown Response."
This had an unexpected and drastic effect: Rufus froze in place. He STOPPED TALKING. He LOOKED FRIGHTENED. His BOTTOM LIP QUIVERED. He said "YES MA'AM to whatever it was I told him. And he quietly went about his business. MAGIC!
I took note.
Later that night, when he was making his 48th excuse for not going to bed, I tried it again, a very fake big smiling, sing-song voice, "Well, I see you're having trouble settling down for bed! We'll have to try going to bed an hour earlier tomorrow night to see if that can help." Again, deer...in...the...headlights. VICTORY!
The next day, it happened yet again. Only this time, he paused long enough, looking very somber, to say, "Ummmm Mom? Could you not look at me like that? It scares me."
I felt like Ed was at my door with a check. It continues to be effective. I suggest it to all harried mothers and fathers.
So last week, Rufus was practicing his endurance skills by repeatedly pushing my buttons over absolute trivia. He was fully, 110% succeeding in pushing me over the edge as at 6 PM. The bird was screeching, Magoo was crying, the cats were yowling, and I was having one of my 25-per day sneezing fits, wetting my pants a little with every ACHOOO. Whatever it was he asked, I do not remember. The important point is that he had pushed me so far beyond my limit that my head might have exploded right off of my shoulders just like a Roman candle on July 4th, with sparks shooting colored balls out of my neck. Something snapped, and instead of yelling (why compete with all the other decibels in the house?), I turned to him, put a huge fake grin on my face, looked straight at him but sort of unfocused my eyes, and answered him in a very fake, very cheery voice. I have since come to call it "The Psycho Clown Response."
This had an unexpected and drastic effect: Rufus froze in place. He STOPPED TALKING. He LOOKED FRIGHTENED. His BOTTOM LIP QUIVERED. He said "YES MA'AM to whatever it was I told him. And he quietly went about his business. MAGIC!
I took note.
Later that night, when he was making his 48th excuse for not going to bed, I tried it again, a very fake big smiling, sing-song voice, "Well, I see you're having trouble settling down for bed! We'll have to try going to bed an hour earlier tomorrow night to see if that can help." Again, deer...in...the...headlights. VICTORY!
The next day, it happened yet again. Only this time, he paused long enough, looking very somber, to say, "Ummmm Mom? Could you not look at me like that? It scares me."
I felt like Ed was at my door with a check. It continues to be effective. I suggest it to all harried mothers and fathers.
PS: It doesn't work on husbands.
3 comments:
This is hysterical! Maybe you could throw in a few multiple personalities to add to the confusion of small boys. You could spin your head around a few times and someone new could pop out! It would certainly give them something to talk about at school - "I wonder which of my mommies is coming to pick me up today?"
Keep up the good work - Dr. Spock would be proud
That is hilarious! I think you are right about it not working on husbands. I tried something similar with my boyfriend...nothing. I threw his lunch bag at him once...from the kitchen into the living room. It scared the shit out of him AND the dog. Let's just say I had some quiet time for the rest of the afternoon! :) Of course, I don't recommend doing that too often. One would not want the reputation of being a complete raving lunatic. But, sometimes ya just gotta do what ya gotta do! :)
Brilliant! Y.M. suggests you suddenly start singing "Onward Christian Soldiers" in a loud
voice, as you march to the board posted on the wall where you make a big red X or 2 or 3 in the appropriate box which denotes no TV for a week, no computer for a week, etc. etc. When "Onward Christian Soldiers" no longer works, I would suggest "Jesus Loves Me This I Know" .... all singing to be done, of course, with crossed eyes toward heaven and hands folded in prayer and a big grin on your face like you KNOW something THEY don't know. Send Y.M a report, please.
P.S. I wil try your method the next time the Kaptain thinks he nose either as much or more than Y.M. and Lucy Poop Jones combined.
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