A few Sunday's ago my son decided to make about 30 poor choices in a row and thus found himself (kicking and screaming) relocating our wood pile.
It all started with a simple request from his mother to stop playing with something left in the pew we were sitting in at church. The object was not ours and so I whispered to him "put it down please" and then immediately closed my eyes (as we were all supposed to be praying). I peaked my eyes open just to see him still handling the object. "Mal" I said again quietly but with that mommy tone "Put. That. Down." I closed my eyes again. Once again I peaked one eye open to discover him gone. A teenager seated on the other side of the sanctuary made eye contact with me and motioned to the choir loft. I looked and there was my lovely son, hiding behind the choir (to my horror). "Little jerk." I thought to myself as I went and retrieved him. We sat back down and I told him he had just lost the trip to the craft store that we were going to take after church and that he better start making better choices.
We sat there quietly for about one min when he starts waving his arms in the air with two thumbs down and giving me a dirty look. It was his silent way of announcing his unhappiness with me. I whispered "You better knock it off or you're going to earn yourself an extra chore today" to which he said "Why don't you make it two!" Calmly (outwardly, not inwardly of course) I replied "Fine. Two it is." Next he got up next to my ear and quietly but forcefully starts repeating "A-pol-o-gize! A-pol-o-gize! A-pol-o-gize!" To which I said "Malachi James I don't have anything to apologize for and you better start making better choices or you'll loose a half hour of TV today." To which my angelic child responded "I don't care, take all my TV away!" "No problem" was my response.
This continued and he racked up several extra chores and as you know, no TV or craft store trip. He kept up the attitude until I stood up, grabbed him in the classic yank-the-kid-by-the-arm-out-of-church fashion we all remember from our youth. He broke away from me as we got to the bottom of the church stairs and attempted to lock himself in the choir room. I made a threat that I don't presently remember, got him out, and walked him over to our house.
We got inside and he went to turn on the TV. "No way mister" I said "You're not watching TV at all today and remember that that was YOUR idea". He started sobbing "No Mom. No! I take it all back! I take it all back! I'm sorry, ok? Now can I watch TV?" "Nope." I said. "You can be sorry but it doesn't take away the consequences of your actions" (man, when did I start sounding so.... so.... parental?) I tossed him a pair of sneakers. (Did I mention he had taken his shoes off in church and refused to put them back on so he was lead out in bare feet? Yes, he's a gem indeed.) I tossed him sneakers and said "Put these on. You're gonna need em".
See, by the time we had gotten over to the house I was so angry at him and wanted a way to get my point across about his attitude without loosing my cool. Grunt work seemed best. Something to wear him out... as I was thinking this I glanced out the window to see a wood pile at the edge of our yard. I honestly didn't know where it had come from but no matter. That would work perfectly. (I later found out that one of the men from the church put it there after their chicken BBQ because they thought we could use it when we do the next youth group campfire.)
"Malachi you are going to move that entire wood pile all by yourself from there (pointing to it) to there (pointing about 20 feet away under our pine tree)". He started screaming and crying - pitching a royal fit. "Are you kidding Mom?! No I'm not! I'M NOT!" Stomping and carrying on. I calmly said "Mal you can do it fast and be done with it or you can pitch a fit and take all day. I don't care. We will be out here until it's done even if it takes all day. The choice is yours." He picked up the first piece of wood and threw it at the pine tree. "Make it right" I said. And he did while screaming "You are so rude! You're rude Mom!" (I know that response doesn't really make sense but he was just down right mad and was verbally throwing out anything he could.) Then he kicked the wood pile. "Come on" I said "get movin'. Soon he was taking about three minutes in between each piece to both curse me and beg me but he was doing it. Relocating the whole pile.
It all started with a simple request from his mother to stop playing with something left in the pew we were sitting in at church. The object was not ours and so I whispered to him "put it down please" and then immediately closed my eyes (as we were all supposed to be praying). I peaked my eyes open just to see him still handling the object. "Mal" I said again quietly but with that mommy tone "Put. That. Down." I closed my eyes again. Once again I peaked one eye open to discover him gone. A teenager seated on the other side of the sanctuary made eye contact with me and motioned to the choir loft. I looked and there was my lovely son, hiding behind the choir (to my horror). "Little jerk." I thought to myself as I went and retrieved him. We sat back down and I told him he had just lost the trip to the craft store that we were going to take after church and that he better start making better choices.
We sat there quietly for about one min when he starts waving his arms in the air with two thumbs down and giving me a dirty look. It was his silent way of announcing his unhappiness with me. I whispered "You better knock it off or you're going to earn yourself an extra chore today" to which he said "Why don't you make it two!" Calmly (outwardly, not inwardly of course) I replied "Fine. Two it is." Next he got up next to my ear and quietly but forcefully starts repeating "A-pol-o-gize! A-pol-o-gize! A-pol-o-gize!" To which I said "Malachi James I don't have anything to apologize for and you better start making better choices or you'll loose a half hour of TV today." To which my angelic child responded "I don't care, take all my TV away!" "No problem" was my response.
This continued and he racked up several extra chores and as you know, no TV or craft store trip. He kept up the attitude until I stood up, grabbed him in the classic yank-the-kid-by-the-arm-out-of-church fashion we all remember from our youth. He broke away from me as we got to the bottom of the church stairs and attempted to lock himself in the choir room. I made a threat that I don't presently remember, got him out, and walked him over to our house.
We got inside and he went to turn on the TV. "No way mister" I said "You're not watching TV at all today and remember that that was YOUR idea". He started sobbing "No Mom. No! I take it all back! I take it all back! I'm sorry, ok? Now can I watch TV?" "Nope." I said. "You can be sorry but it doesn't take away the consequences of your actions" (man, when did I start sounding so.... so.... parental?) I tossed him a pair of sneakers. (Did I mention he had taken his shoes off in church and refused to put them back on so he was lead out in bare feet? Yes, he's a gem indeed.) I tossed him sneakers and said "Put these on. You're gonna need em".
See, by the time we had gotten over to the house I was so angry at him and wanted a way to get my point across about his attitude without loosing my cool. Grunt work seemed best. Something to wear him out... as I was thinking this I glanced out the window to see a wood pile at the edge of our yard. I honestly didn't know where it had come from but no matter. That would work perfectly. (I later found out that one of the men from the church put it there after their chicken BBQ because they thought we could use it when we do the next youth group campfire.)
"Malachi you are going to move that entire wood pile all by yourself from there (pointing to it) to there (pointing about 20 feet away under our pine tree)". He started screaming and crying - pitching a royal fit. "Are you kidding Mom?! No I'm not! I'M NOT!" Stomping and carrying on. I calmly said "Mal you can do it fast and be done with it or you can pitch a fit and take all day. I don't care. We will be out here until it's done even if it takes all day. The choice is yours." He picked up the first piece of wood and threw it at the pine tree. "Make it right" I said. And he did while screaming "You are so rude! You're rude Mom!" (I know that response doesn't really make sense but he was just down right mad and was verbally throwing out anything he could.) Then he kicked the wood pile. "Come on" I said "get movin'. Soon he was taking about three minutes in between each piece to both curse me and beg me but he was doing it. Relocating the whole pile.
Cars were going by slowing down with their windows down wondering what was going on with this hysterical child no doubt and he was yelling to them "I HATE MY MOTHER!! I HAAAATTTTEEEE MY MOTHEEEEEER!!" I stood calm like a prison yard warden silently pointing from one pile to the other not answering any of his threats or pleas. He threw out every insult he could think of including "You need to learn manners!" which I thought was a cute one.
About an hour passed - him still mad but freaking out slightly less hysterically and me thinking to myself as I was slowly getting sun burned "Man I REALLY hope he gets the point soon cuz I have to make him finish but this is my ONLY day off work this week and I so just wanted to have a nice calm relaxing day". Well, God sent me some help right then. Elise and Rob decided to go over to the neighbors who have a pool - a pool one can view from the dreaded wood pile. "Aha." I thought to myself, "Motivation". Indeed, Mal looked at me and said in a normal tone "Can I go swimming too Mama?" (Notice the tactfully placed 'mama' by the little shyster?) "You can after you finish with the wood pile" I answered. Well, then he started moving. Back and forth. Back and forth. Stacking a few pieces at a time now (still grumbling under his breath but glancing over at the pool where his little sisters giggles echoed from). I offered "If you can do ten pieces in a row without complaining I'll help you do the rest" and he took me up on it. From the time Elise walked over to the neighbors to the time Mal was running over, bathing suit in hand, only 10 minutes had passed.
As he and I had stacked the last piece of wood he stood back, put his hands on his little hips, and in a very matter-of-fact manner stated "Well Mom, I think next time you ask me to stop playin' with somethin' I'm just gonna do it and not pitch a fit or anything." "Good idea" I said surprised that he even remembered how this all started.
A friend of mine said, laughing, that from now on any time he acts up I should just look at him and say "Wood pile" and he should straighten right up! We'll see I suppose.
Mal was so brave the whole time. The cut was small but very deep. He ended up with two stitches below the surface (because the Dr showed me where you could see his little skull) and eight stitches on the surface. She said it will leave a scar and that for the next year we have to really plaster it with sunscreen because if it gets burnt it will stay that color pink for the rest of his life. (
While stitching him up he told the Dr. "You're the best girl I know" and then after she was done he wrote his phone number on a tissue and said "You can call me sometime". Lady killer, that's my boy. When we were walking out she was taking a picture with her phone of the tissue so that she could look at it and laugh on a rough day.