Last weekend, Cassie threw one of her infamous melt-down screaming fits. For those of you who think my child is a darling angel who would never do such a thing, I present the evidence that says otherwise:
This particular screaming fit was started by the fact that I unfairly denied my child the chance to wash her own behind after telling her three times she needed to finish up in the tub or I was going to finish up for her. If you listen closely, you can hear her screaming, "I want MAMA! Don't leave me ALONE!" Meaning, "I want the nice woman who bought me ice cream earlier in the day, why did that other mean old witch put me in my bedroom for a time out?"
Obviously, I was enjoying this too much. But it got even better when I finally let her out of her room and then once again told her no, she was not going to wash her own behind, I had already done it for her, and besides, the tub was now drained. This precipitated a second screaming melt-down, of which I only managed to record the tail end. Had I pulled out my recorder a little earlier, you would have heard her scream, "IT'S UNFAIR!! MOMMY MAKES ME UNHAPPY!!!" However, I did manage to get some closing comments ouf of Cassie that I will treasure forever:
Showing posts with label Tantrums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tantrums. Show all posts
Monday, June 25, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Looking For Replacement Family?
It's so nice to see I'm not the only mom who has a "challenging child."
East Coast F'Lakers: Seeking new family:#links
Cassie told me last week that I was ruinging her life. She said it with a smile, but I know after suffering through numerous time outs and other punishments for things like hitting, temper tantrums, refusing to brush her teeth, etc., she's probably ready to go looking for a new mom. I have threatened to sell her, but I'm not sure how much I'd get for a perpetually pink prissy princess-obsessed preschooler.
Okay, try saying that last bit five times fast.
East Coast F'Lakers: Seeking new family:#links
Cassie told me last week that I was ruinging her life. She said it with a smile, but I know after suffering through numerous time outs and other punishments for things like hitting, temper tantrums, refusing to brush her teeth, etc., she's probably ready to go looking for a new mom. I have threatened to sell her, but I'm not sure how much I'd get for a perpetually pink prissy princess-obsessed preschooler.
Okay, try saying that last bit five times fast.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Disciplining My Four-Year-Old
We’ve been having some problems lately. Cassie is starting to test the limits of what is and is not acceptable behavior. And boy, do I mean test. We’ve had open defiance, full-blown melt-downs, hitting, whining, etc. I have been at a loss as to what’s been causing her bad behavior, and also at a loss as to how to handle it.
It used to be a simple matter of threatening to take away Cassie’s movie time or her treat to get her to straighten up. But for a while now, she hasn’t bothered to eat enough dinner to earn a treat, so that obviously doesn’t matter to her. And since she started taking karate, she doesn’t have enough time in the evenings to watch a movie, so yanking that is no threat either. I suggested to Michael that we refuse to take her to karate class, but he pointed out that it’s a physical activity (which she needs) and it’s purpose is to instill a sense of self-discipline in children, so he won’t agree to that tactic (and yes, we both have to agree to the punishments; otherwise we end up undermining each other while trying to discipline Cass).
But we’ve got to do something. Things have just gotten out of hand. Cassie ended up in time out three times last week, once for telling her teacher “No!” when she was asked to be quiet. And then this week she hit another child in the face with a toy when that child refused to share with her.
What to do, what to do? The thing that bothered me the most about all of this was that I was hearing about most of these incidents from Cassie herself, and not the teacher. I don’t always see the teacher when I come to pick Cassie up, so when Cassie tells me she ended up in time out that day, I’m forced to decipher her 4-year-old babble to figure out why. That really doesn’t help. The “No!” incident was apparently bad enough behavior that the teacher took time to tell me, and I made Cassie apologize on the spot for that. But then two days later, as we were leaving the school, Cassie told me she was back in time out again for refusing to wash her hands, at which point I got out of the car, hunted down her teacher and told the woman that I wanted to know every time Cassie misbehaved. Why this surprised the teacher is beyond me, but her response of, “Oh, so you’re one of those parents who cares!” did not leave me with a warm, fuzzy feeling.
Yes, I care. On Tuesday, when I found out about the hitting incident, I made the teacher write it up in a note. I get notes all the time about how Cassie needs to practice writing her X’s or her Q’s, or she needs to practice writing her name. But I’ve never gotten a note because she was in time out. “We don’t normally write notes for things like that,” the teacher explained.
Well you do now.
I took Cassie and her note to karate class that evening, and made her hand the note to Sensei. At over six feet tall, he is an imposing figure to small child. His voice is deep, and it sounds like thunder when he’s not happy. Cassie got only a fraction of its full force as he read the note, but I think that was enough. Then she had to come home and show the note to her father as well. She’s kept her nose pretty clean the rest of this week.
I could have just let Michael and I handle this, but obviously our disapproval doesn’t matter as much to Cass at this point as someone else’s, like say Sensei’s. So I’m thinking if enough adults show disapproval of what she does, that may work better than just yanking her movie and treat every night (although she now automatically losses those privileges as well if we get any more notes). We’ll see how it works.
It used to be a simple matter of threatening to take away Cassie’s movie time or her treat to get her to straighten up. But for a while now, she hasn’t bothered to eat enough dinner to earn a treat, so that obviously doesn’t matter to her. And since she started taking karate, she doesn’t have enough time in the evenings to watch a movie, so yanking that is no threat either. I suggested to Michael that we refuse to take her to karate class, but he pointed out that it’s a physical activity (which she needs) and it’s purpose is to instill a sense of self-discipline in children, so he won’t agree to that tactic (and yes, we both have to agree to the punishments; otherwise we end up undermining each other while trying to discipline Cass).
But we’ve got to do something. Things have just gotten out of hand. Cassie ended up in time out three times last week, once for telling her teacher “No!” when she was asked to be quiet. And then this week she hit another child in the face with a toy when that child refused to share with her.
What to do, what to do? The thing that bothered me the most about all of this was that I was hearing about most of these incidents from Cassie herself, and not the teacher. I don’t always see the teacher when I come to pick Cassie up, so when Cassie tells me she ended up in time out that day, I’m forced to decipher her 4-year-old babble to figure out why. That really doesn’t help. The “No!” incident was apparently bad enough behavior that the teacher took time to tell me, and I made Cassie apologize on the spot for that. But then two days later, as we were leaving the school, Cassie told me she was back in time out again for refusing to wash her hands, at which point I got out of the car, hunted down her teacher and told the woman that I wanted to know every time Cassie misbehaved. Why this surprised the teacher is beyond me, but her response of, “Oh, so you’re one of those parents who cares!” did not leave me with a warm, fuzzy feeling.
Yes, I care. On Tuesday, when I found out about the hitting incident, I made the teacher write it up in a note. I get notes all the time about how Cassie needs to practice writing her X’s or her Q’s, or she needs to practice writing her name. But I’ve never gotten a note because she was in time out. “We don’t normally write notes for things like that,” the teacher explained.
Well you do now.
I took Cassie and her note to karate class that evening, and made her hand the note to Sensei. At over six feet tall, he is an imposing figure to small child. His voice is deep, and it sounds like thunder when he’s not happy. Cassie got only a fraction of its full force as he read the note, but I think that was enough. Then she had to come home and show the note to her father as well. She’s kept her nose pretty clean the rest of this week.
I could have just let Michael and I handle this, but obviously our disapproval doesn’t matter as much to Cass at this point as someone else’s, like say Sensei’s. So I’m thinking if enough adults show disapproval of what she does, that may work better than just yanking her movie and treat every night (although she now automatically losses those privileges as well if we get any more notes). We’ll see how it works.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Surviving the Mega-Super-Duper-Galactic-Colossal Princess Tantrum
We had a real special evening here on Monday. I was in the kitchen heating up dinner. Cassie had dragged her father and Sam upstairs. I called up to say dinner was ready and a moment later I heard all this screaming coming from Cassie’s bedroom. Michael came downstairs with Sam a few minutes after that and sat at the table.
Me: Where’s Cassie?
Michael: She’s having a ‘princess’ moment.
Me: Huh?
Sam: Oooooooooooo... phbtz!
Michael: She wanted to wear her ‘Belle’ costume. I said yes, but she should put it on over her clothes because I knew dinner was going to be ready soon. She got undressed anyway and put on the dress and then started pulling out all the accessories. I told her that we didn’t have time for that. She could have them after dinner. She started to fuss. I said that when you called for dinner, I was headed downstairs with Sam. Thirty seconds later, you said dinner was ready, and now Cassie is upstairs screaming because I didn’t put her jewelry on her.
Cassie (upstairs in her bedroom): Aaaaaaaaaagh! Aaaaagh! Daaaaaaaaddy! Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy! Eeeeeeeaaaaaaauugh!
Me: Holy cow...
Sam: Ooooooooo! Ooooo! Ooooo... phbztt!
So Michael and I sat down to eat dinner. A few minutes later, Cassie came downstairs, carrying an armload of Disney Princess accessories - jewelry, tiara, scepter, shoes, etc.
Cassie: *Sniffle, sniffle* Mommy? Will you put my accessories on me?
Me: After dinner. Right now you need to sit down and eat.
Cassie: No!
Me: By the way, young lady. That dress is too loose on you and the neck hangs too low. You need to wear a shirt under it.
Cassie: No I don’t! Belle doesn’t wear a shirt under her dress!
Me: Belle isn’t my daughter, you are. Go put a shirt on and come eat.
Cassie: Noooooo! Nooooo! Nononononononononono!!
Sam: Oooooooo! Ooooooo! Ooo! Ooo! Phbttz! Blah!
Me: Either put a shirt on or I will take away the dress.
Cassie ran upstairs, still screaming. Michael, Sam and I continued with dinner to an accompaniment of screaming. After I had fed Sam and eaten my own dinner, I trudged upstairs. I found Cassie sitting in the middle of her room wearing a t-shirt. The dress was lying on the floor.
Me: Cassie, put the dress on and come eat.
Cassie: *Sniffle, sniffle* I w-w-w-want my ac-ac-ac-ac-cessories.
She got up and went over to her pink treasure chest to pull out yet another armful of princess junk. I shook my head.
Me: You may have the accessories AFTER dinner, young lady. Right now, you need to put on your dress and come downstairs to eat.
Cassie: I W-W-W-WANT M-M-MY ACCESSORIES!
Me: No, and if you argue with me any more, I’m going to take away all your costumes for a week.
Cassie: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Cassie threw herself on the floor and had a category 5 tantrum. I walked over, picked up the Belle dress, and then gathered up all her other costumes. It took me a total of three trips to get all her princess stuff out of the room. I shoved it in my closet and shut the door. Cassie continued to scream and foam at the mouth while I headed back downstairs.
Michael: So, how did it go?
Me: Cassie has lost all her costumes and accessories for a week. Starting next Monday, she will be allowed to earn them back one at a time. When she stops screaming, she can come down and eat dinner.
Cassie: NOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Sam: Ooooooooooooo...
And that was the Mega-Super-Titanic-Intergalactic Princess Meltdown. Hope you enjoyed the story. I wish I could find my clothes underneath all that princess crap.
Me: Where’s Cassie?
Michael: She’s having a ‘princess’ moment.
Me: Huh?
Sam: Oooooooooooo... phbtz!
Michael: She wanted to wear her ‘Belle’ costume. I said yes, but she should put it on over her clothes because I knew dinner was going to be ready soon. She got undressed anyway and put on the dress and then started pulling out all the accessories. I told her that we didn’t have time for that. She could have them after dinner. She started to fuss. I said that when you called for dinner, I was headed downstairs with Sam. Thirty seconds later, you said dinner was ready, and now Cassie is upstairs screaming because I didn’t put her jewelry on her.
Cassie (upstairs in her bedroom): Aaaaaaaaaagh! Aaaaagh! Daaaaaaaaddy! Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy! Eeeeeeeaaaaaaauugh!
Me: Holy cow...
Sam: Ooooooooo! Ooooo! Ooooo... phbztt!
So Michael and I sat down to eat dinner. A few minutes later, Cassie came downstairs, carrying an armload of Disney Princess accessories - jewelry, tiara, scepter, shoes, etc.
Cassie: *Sniffle, sniffle* Mommy? Will you put my accessories on me?
Me: After dinner. Right now you need to sit down and eat.
Cassie: No!
Me: By the way, young lady. That dress is too loose on you and the neck hangs too low. You need to wear a shirt under it.
Cassie: No I don’t! Belle doesn’t wear a shirt under her dress!
Me: Belle isn’t my daughter, you are. Go put a shirt on and come eat.
Cassie: Noooooo! Nooooo! Nononononononononono!!
Sam: Oooooooo! Ooooooo! Ooo! Ooo! Phbttz! Blah!
Me: Either put a shirt on or I will take away the dress.
Cassie ran upstairs, still screaming. Michael, Sam and I continued with dinner to an accompaniment of screaming. After I had fed Sam and eaten my own dinner, I trudged upstairs. I found Cassie sitting in the middle of her room wearing a t-shirt. The dress was lying on the floor.
Me: Cassie, put the dress on and come eat.
Cassie: *Sniffle, sniffle* I w-w-w-want my ac-ac-ac-ac-cessories.
She got up and went over to her pink treasure chest to pull out yet another armful of princess junk. I shook my head.
Me: You may have the accessories AFTER dinner, young lady. Right now, you need to put on your dress and come downstairs to eat.
Cassie: I W-W-W-WANT M-M-MY ACCESSORIES!
Me: No, and if you argue with me any more, I’m going to take away all your costumes for a week.
Cassie: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Cassie threw herself on the floor and had a category 5 tantrum. I walked over, picked up the Belle dress, and then gathered up all her other costumes. It took me a total of three trips to get all her princess stuff out of the room. I shoved it in my closet and shut the door. Cassie continued to scream and foam at the mouth while I headed back downstairs.
Michael: So, how did it go?
Me: Cassie has lost all her costumes and accessories for a week. Starting next Monday, she will be allowed to earn them back one at a time. When she stops screaming, she can come down and eat dinner.
Cassie: NOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Sam: Ooooooooooooo...
And that was the Mega-Super-Titanic-Intergalactic Princess Meltdown. Hope you enjoyed the story. I wish I could find my clothes underneath all that princess crap.
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