The only point of this day's post is to review what I stated in an earlier post (and mostly for only myself):
"Basically, everything I found in my research on biting stated that Edith's biting, while exasperating to her care givers and parents, [is] a completely normal phase that many children go through."
I do not want her biting to be what defines her. It is not what defines her. But I think it's too easy for everyone to get caught up in it. Including me.
Hiding
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
The Day of Edith's Doom Part II
Yes, we spanked our child. We spanked our dear, sweet Edith.
All of the new literature out there, all of the current psychologists, all of Edith's pediatrician and teachers, all of the studies I've read, every single Nook reading a Cookbook - everyone out there who is anybody who is anybody says to not spank your child. To put it mildly, spanking is not "in." We were now crossing over to The Dark Side.
Once I had Edith in the car I called her dad and told him we were headed to the house. On the way home I explained to Edith that she had bit again and her dad was coming over and we were going to spank her. Ya know what? I'm going to skip the gory details, but it broke my heart. The Love of My Life did some very good and very stern talking to Edith, making her bawl and squall and I was blowing my nose right along with her. I'm very tough. Very tough indeed. Ha! And if CPS is tracking us down and finds us, I am the one that personally did the spanking when it came right down to it. Four sound smacks on the hind end. It was me. And for the record, I was very proud of The Love of My Life for how he handled the situation, how he was involved in the situation, while all the time resenting him for it because he all calm and collected. Phooey on him!
Later that evening The Love of My Life calls and says one of our old friends....well, wait, this still is his friend just not my friend, suggested play therapy. Play therapy? What the hell is play therapy? I googled it (have I mentioned how much I love google?), and came up with the fact (well, as much as you can call anything from wikipedia.com a fact) that in play therapy a therapist watches children in group play (or engages a single child in play) and psychoanalyzes that child to identify the root cause of their behavioral issues. Sounded like a bunch of hogwash to me, but at this point, I'll try anything, and so will my parenting partner. We decided to consult Edith's pediatrician, since even if we did do this play therapy, we would need a referral from her MD. Besides, she needed a flu shot.
My opinion of her somewhat strange but incredibly intelligent up to this point pediatrician was about to change drastically.
Unrelated note to any concerned members of my phantom fan club:
My roommate thinks the term "Love of My Life" is odd, as my exhusband and I are estranged with no intent to return to the state of marriage. I had to tell her that this has long been my sarcastic term of endearment for the man. It would be great if there was a punctuation that denoted sarcasm. Maybe I'll creat one.....but anyway, The Love of My Life is long to type. I'm considering shortening it to TLML or should it be TLOML? TLML. Or I could just call him Tom and be done with it. Tom. It has a ring to it. Any input from you dears, my phantom fan club, would be greatly appreciated.
All of the new literature out there, all of the current psychologists, all of Edith's pediatrician and teachers, all of the studies I've read, every single Nook reading a Cookbook - everyone out there who is anybody who is anybody says to not spank your child. To put it mildly, spanking is not "in." We were now crossing over to The Dark Side.
Once I had Edith in the car I called her dad and told him we were headed to the house. On the way home I explained to Edith that she had bit again and her dad was coming over and we were going to spank her. Ya know what? I'm going to skip the gory details, but it broke my heart. The Love of My Life did some very good and very stern talking to Edith, making her bawl and squall and I was blowing my nose right along with her. I'm very tough. Very tough indeed. Ha! And if CPS is tracking us down and finds us, I am the one that personally did the spanking when it came right down to it. Four sound smacks on the hind end. It was me. And for the record, I was very proud of The Love of My Life for how he handled the situation, how he was involved in the situation, while all the time resenting him for it because he all calm and collected. Phooey on him!
Later that evening The Love of My Life calls and says one of our old friends....well, wait, this still is his friend just not my friend, suggested play therapy. Play therapy? What the hell is play therapy? I googled it (have I mentioned how much I love google?), and came up with the fact (well, as much as you can call anything from wikipedia.com a fact) that in play therapy a therapist watches children in group play (or engages a single child in play) and psychoanalyzes that child to identify the root cause of their behavioral issues. Sounded like a bunch of hogwash to me, but at this point, I'll try anything, and so will my parenting partner. We decided to consult Edith's pediatrician, since even if we did do this play therapy, we would need a referral from her MD. Besides, she needed a flu shot.
My opinion of her somewhat strange but incredibly intelligent up to this point pediatrician was about to change drastically.
Unrelated note to any concerned members of my phantom fan club:
My roommate thinks the term "Love of My Life" is odd, as my exhusband and I are estranged with no intent to return to the state of marriage. I had to tell her that this has long been my sarcastic term of endearment for the man. It would be great if there was a punctuation that denoted sarcasm. Maybe I'll creat one.....but anyway, The Love of My Life is long to type. I'm considering shortening it to TLML or should it be TLOML? TLML. Or I could just call him Tom and be done with it. Tom. It has a ring to it. Any input from you dears, my phantom fan club, would be greatly appreciated.
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Day of Edith's Doom Part I
So a couple weeks went by with no incident. Sweat Pea and Edith were separated, and life went on (with a few murmered complaints about the separation of the BFF's). Yesterday, I snuck out of work early to go home and sneak in a nap before Edith's gymnastics. I was exhausted. No sooner had I drifted of into a slumber than my phone rings. Sighing, I went to go get my phone, assuming it was one of my employees. I picked it up and saw the missed call. I clicked to view it and my heart sank - it was Edith's school. I have learned that her school does not call just to say "hi." Maybe they should from time to time, because everytime they called I'm instantly filled with a sense of sheer dread.
I called them back. Edith had bit again. At least it was not Sweat Pea this time, so I don't have to worry about her parents coming to my house for shooting practice. But on the other hand, that means the problem is not isolated to Sweat Pea. Jasmine stated that the next time Edith bites, we will have to come and get her. Which means to me, the next step, the next logical step, is that Edith might get expelled from school. It's not inconceivable. I tried to go back to sleep and could not. I texted The Love of My Life a brief synopsis (i.e. Edith bit again), and he soon called me. And I start crying. I am so frustrated.
Now, we agreed long before the evil divorce that we were not going to use corporal punishment with Edith. In the past year when I have mentioned that we might want to go this route, The Love of My Life has been adament that he does not think that it is a solution. So when I mentioned maybe spanking her, I just about fell out of my bed when he said, "Yeah, I think we need to. I've been thinking that." So there it was. Edith's Day of Doom had come. I told him I'd call him after I picked up Edith and we decided he'd come to the house and we'd do this together, as a parental unit. We had some discussion over if we would bite her or spank her, if it would be Mom or Dad, and if we would use a hand or paddle, without reaching any real conclusion except that I didn't think we should bite her. It may leave a mark, and that could be bad news.
I left to go pick her up from school, trying so hard not to cry. I'm embarassed and humiliated. I have visions of Sweat Pea's parents also being there when I arrive at the school. I scan the parking lot. I walk in. I bypass Jasmine's office because I am barely holding it together. I go into Edith's room, and she is in SUPER SWEET mode. She's telling me how they watched a new movie and made smores. And her new teacher is there, and she's saying how great a day Edith had except this one leetle incident. The little boy had been behind Edith in line and he had been playing and tapping on Edith's shoulders, and I guess she didn't like that, and she turned around and tried to bite him on the neck but thank goodness he had on a sweater and so she really barely scratched him. And I lost it. I lost it. I started crying - just like I belonged in the three year old room myself. And I couldn't stop. And here is this 20 year old teacher standing there trying to tell me it's not that bad, don't cry, and so I cry harder... In fact, I'm crying again right now as I type this, so I think we'll have to break this one down into a Part I and Part II.
I haven't even told my brother.
I called them back. Edith had bit again. At least it was not Sweat Pea this time, so I don't have to worry about her parents coming to my house for shooting practice. But on the other hand, that means the problem is not isolated to Sweat Pea. Jasmine stated that the next time Edith bites, we will have to come and get her. Which means to me, the next step, the next logical step, is that Edith might get expelled from school. It's not inconceivable. I tried to go back to sleep and could not. I texted The Love of My Life a brief synopsis (i.e. Edith bit again), and he soon called me. And I start crying. I am so frustrated.
Now, we agreed long before the evil divorce that we were not going to use corporal punishment with Edith. In the past year when I have mentioned that we might want to go this route, The Love of My Life has been adament that he does not think that it is a solution. So when I mentioned maybe spanking her, I just about fell out of my bed when he said, "Yeah, I think we need to. I've been thinking that." So there it was. Edith's Day of Doom had come. I told him I'd call him after I picked up Edith and we decided he'd come to the house and we'd do this together, as a parental unit. We had some discussion over if we would bite her or spank her, if it would be Mom or Dad, and if we would use a hand or paddle, without reaching any real conclusion except that I didn't think we should bite her. It may leave a mark, and that could be bad news.
I left to go pick her up from school, trying so hard not to cry. I'm embarassed and humiliated. I have visions of Sweat Pea's parents also being there when I arrive at the school. I scan the parking lot. I walk in. I bypass Jasmine's office because I am barely holding it together. I go into Edith's room, and she is in SUPER SWEET mode. She's telling me how they watched a new movie and made smores. And her new teacher is there, and she's saying how great a day Edith had except this one leetle incident. The little boy had been behind Edith in line and he had been playing and tapping on Edith's shoulders, and I guess she didn't like that, and she turned around and tried to bite him on the neck but thank goodness he had on a sweater and so she really barely scratched him. And I lost it. I lost it. I started crying - just like I belonged in the three year old room myself. And I couldn't stop. And here is this 20 year old teacher standing there trying to tell me it's not that bad, don't cry, and so I cry harder... In fact, I'm crying again right now as I type this, so I think we'll have to break this one down into a Part I and Part II.
I haven't even told my brother.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)