Time out.
I have sent myself to time out and all I can think of is the chocolate bar and how fast I would smash it.
Get on to this one, folks, because I have turned the tiny tables and confused the tiny minds I am hoping to broaden.
You see, earlier today the kids were all…
“He’s got a piece of my jig saw.”
“She’s taken the lego man I need,”….and even that good old chestnut,
“S/he’s looking at me!!!!”
Consequently, I got all shouty, shouty; iPad veto threats and birthday party bans were tossed about way too loosely, and I may have said a ‘bad’ word.
Now, before you point that wicked, judgy finger, I will admit that I did it. I did say it.
It was bad.
It was a word we don’t like in this house.
Whoa, might I tell you there was A LOT WORSE screamed under my breath, but I said…are you ready…I said… STUPID.
I really did.
Once my indiscretion was not so quietly highlighted, I quickly did a classic parent manoeuvre I believe you may all be familiar with, and recanted by saying, “I said, your action was stupid, not you.” (Well…der…stupid!)
But…you know…lead by example and all that.
And from where I was standing with 6 hours until bed time, froth lining the sides of my mouth, and my frustration at having to be the grown up pouring out my steaming, humidity clogged pores, I removed myself from this volatile situation and explained that I deserved to go to time out.
OUT I tell you (well…as much as you can with two tiny humans attached to you).
Sure; I’ll take STUPID, and I will retreat.
To my bedroom.
With my phone and my books.
For some serious, kick arse time out.
For this crappy, ‘failing’ Mummy.
I bowed my head in shame, sneakily slid my phone into my pocket, peeled out the apologies, taught the powerful lesson of ‘even grown ups make mistakes’, ensured the front door was locked, the TV was on and the water bottles were in easy reach, and exiled myself in disgrace.
So here I am.
Lying peacefully on my bed…in shame…with the laptop…my emergency chocolate…and a very powerful lesson has been taught here.
What is the time out strategy? A minute in time out for every year of your child’s age?
I’ll take that.
My friends; this piece has taken me record time to punch out, because I totally need some scrolling, brain numbing phone time and my minutes are ticking over fast. I have had a few peek ins and an offer of water from the eldest (see? teaching some empathy right there) which I humbly accepted with a shameful face.
My work here is done.
Please feel free to use my strategy as your own. Take it as my personal, ‘you’ve read my blog post this far,’ thanks.
Every cloud has a silver lining and all that.
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