In this house...I use my husband as the threat to get my kid that turns into some out of control 28 pounds of madness to "cool it".
In this house...The Rambler is usually on the brink of tiredness from the paying job and the non paying job (parenting) that it seems my child knows how to 'work me' over.
In this house...my husband usually wears the pants of discipline.
In this house...Lil Rambler comes to me for comforting.
But something happened the other day that tilted our normal Rambler world. That shifted my husband's cosmic hold on Lil Ramblers way of disciplinary life.
Me and Lil Rambler (yah, yah...I should of said Lil Rambler and I...) had a timeout. And I thought for sure she would be the victor of the 'game'.
But I was persistent. I kept plopping back the angry little imp in her timeout seat.
The TV went off.
Toys were taken out of her reach.
Her juice was put in the refrigerator...(her one chance of trying to escape).
And we had ourselves a standoff.
Evil stares were thrown my way. I did not waver.
Runny nose was snotted my way. I did not falter.
I asked of her one thing. To say she was sorry. And I asked nicely.
While she temper tantrum-ly refused.
I have to say that I kept my cool, for once. My brick wall of "I am the parent, you are the child" was strong. Supernanny would have been proud.
She cried. I almost buckled. She knows my kryptonite.
But I said
almost. Because I gently asked again if she was sorry.
And her little arms flailed and her legs kicked with venom. And her tears turned to an angry sea of terror.
Touche little one, you almost had mommy there.
Timeout sat next to me and said to keep it up. She won't stop loving you because of this. She won't hate you and start packing her toddler suitcase to look for a better mother. She will always love you and she needs this.
Then a half hour (that felt like infinity...since it was me and her in our stare down of the century) came and she had had enough.
With only drama that could come from my side of the family, she whimpered....
"You win Mama...you are the champion...you are the light..."
WHAT? That coulda happened....Alright, alright....she didn't say
THAT. (giggle.)
"Immmmm....ssoooorraaaahhhyyy.....Mammmaaammm"
I held out my arms and our life went resumed back to normal. (If Timeout were a real living person we'd be
high fiving like a bunch of
crazee's)
Well, not exactly. When I said that our world changed a little. It did. Because that night, while out to dinner, Lil Rambler acted up and USUALLY daddy just has to look at her. And it didn't work. He said something. That didn't work. She put out a little more attitude than she usually does with her father. And it got to him.
But then all I said was "Timeout?" and the Lil Rambler knew who was boss in this house!
10 zillion for Lil Rambler.....11 zillion for Daddy Rambler....and finally...TWO for the Rambler.
This question is easy-peasy to answer.
MY BOSS.
Urgh he is the most horrid man IN THE WHOLE WORLD.
~ He has the biggest beer gut
~ And an egg shaped head
~ He is red
~ He bought his wife from a website in Thailand specialising in pretty young wives for rich red old men
~ He has "enemies" by his own admission
~ He knows EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING and is NEVER WRONG of course, by his own admission (and no one else's)
And yesterday he told me off for using a paperclip instead of a stapler!!!!!!!
AAHHHHHHHH.
And breathe.
I'm looking for a new job. Looking really, really hard.
Saskia x