Today was a marathon day. I love being involved in things, but sometimes it really takes it out of me.
I was fortunate enough to be invited to attend a continuous improvement planning meeting for the county. It was a great neat experience. I got to go to it last year as well, and I have to say, not feeling like a deer in the headlights, I was able to better contribute and participate this year. I look forward to attending more.
I had to leave early to get Keith from school, and then pick up Faye from my mother's house. We stopped for happy hour at Sonic, because some days you just need a little sugar water at half price. Am I right?
When we got home, Faye said she was tired, so I got her ready for a nap, and then began to straighten up the upstairs. Shortly after, I heard the kids making a mess downstairs, and decided I needed to join them.
They were trying on their winter clothes. They were making a mess, and they were blissfully happy. I figured they were fine and had to lay down. Honestly, by 3 o'clock I am beat.
We sort of collapsed and read books, and wrestled on the bed, and just enjoyed each other. Dinner came, we ate, and read some more, and then it was time for bed.
That is when the excitement began.
Bedtime is always when the excitement begins, isn't it? We read a book called Will You Still Love Me? which is all about a kid wreaking havoc and asking if his parents will still love him after he breaks basically everything in their house. And of course, the answer is yes.
So, I asked the kids to clean up their things before we went down to bed. Faye was as sweet as could be, and took her books, and just headed on down. Keith, on the other hand, picked up his books and chucked them down the stairs. That is not allowed. I said very calmly "that is not the way we treat books, Keith."
And then he flipped out. He began yelling, crying, hitting, kicking, throwing things, etc.
I told him if he threw things he would lose them.
The tantrum continued. I picked him up, and held him as he freaked out. He kicked me in the face. He kept hitting. He was so mad at me! I have no idea why, still. As I held his arms so he could no longer hit or kick me, I got a nice little bite on my arm.
But really, it wasn't nice, and it wasn't little.
Praying for patience and the proper way to deal with the boy that would help him learn, and for me to not freak out, I picked him up, ran up the stairs with him, and put two drops of Tapatio hot sauce in his mouth.
I don't think he will ever bite me again.
He was already crying, but the hot sauce sort of pushed him over the edge. I got a paper towel and wiped it out of his mouth, told him to spit into it, and then got him some water to drink. I pulled him in close, and stroked his cheeks while he tried to spit. He was still plenty mad at me. I talked to him about how it isn't okay to bite people. How it hurts them. I talked to him about how it isn't okay to spit on people either (as he was spitting on me). I got him more to drink, and wiped out his mouth again. His tongue was in pain, I am sure. I love that hot sauce, but for a little boy who sometimes wont even eat pepperoni, I can understand why it wasn't a favorite for him. Jeffrey came home, and gave Keith some milk, and I got him a piece of bread, and then we sat down and talked.
By this time, he had calmed down, and was actually quite receptive. We talked about how I still love him, even though he chose to bite me. Jeffrey always uses humor in these situations and asked Keith if he turned into a zombie. Because logically, zombies bite people, and people don't bite people. Keith did make a comment about not eating brains, which made us all laugh, and we were able to discuss actions and consequences.
It was actually a very good discussion. Keith came up with some good consequences. When someone yells at someone else, they have to clean a room until they settle down, and it is clean. When hitting ensues, they have to wash the dishes. Biting, of course gets hot sauce in the mouth.
Tomorrow, we are going to write up a contract and have everyone in the family sign it.
I think by the time my kids hit middle school, we will have tried every form of discipline out there. I am hoping one will stick.