The Report

I finally got my first unofficial, not-so-great report from day care last week (I guess it's officially "preschool" now) and the same report a few times this week -- E is "having trouble listening."

<sarcasm> Oh, really? That's strange, because she listens so well at home. </sarcasm>

Yep, I think we're entering the Horrible-Three stage. Even though she's only two, I'm trying to convince myself that she's advanced enough to already be partway through the Horrible-Threes. I swear I can see the light at the end of the temper-tantrum tunnel.

Long story short, she "wouldn't put her shirt on" and "escaped out the door into the hallway yesterday."

Okay, so, not a big deal in my book, because at home we're dealing with screaming, all-out-throw-herself-on-the-floor-and-scream-as-if-death-is-imminent temper tantrums, hitting, slapping, scratching, and biting.

She only does this to me, and as usual, I read everything I can find about the issues, quiz my friends and family, and try to solve all the problems at once with several different methods.

So I'm trying NOT to do that as much, you know, the solving-all-problems-at-once thing. I'm trying to stay calm and trust that, as everyone else says, this is just a stage. But I'm also sticking to my punishments, trying to make sure the punishment fits the crime, and using a much sterner, unwavering voice when I scold.

I've also come up with an afternoon schedule for her, so that our afternoons are somewhat more predictable for her. Preschool pick up, home for a snack, outside time, dinner, bath, bed. In this way, I'm taking away some of her control in the afternoon. Well, not taking it away as much as organizing it. "What do you want to do for outside play time? We can ride bikes or go to the park." Also, going outside is up to her. If she wants to stay inside and play, she can. If she wants to go outside, she needs to get her shoes on and get ready. Not so surprisingly, she is always capable of getting ready if it means going outside!

This has worked great, and it also breaks up our indoor time, so that she doesn't get bored. It feels like we're doing more, because we go home, out, then home again, but we're actually doing less and conserving our energy, because we're spending more indoor quality time together. She needs this in the afternoon, as she's tired from school.

She gave up naps a long time ago. I can put her in her room, in her bed, and she'll stay in there and play quietly, but she won't sleep. So, I give her that quiet time after snack, even if sleep never comes. That's helped too.

So far, we've had 3 good days on this schedule. I don't know if anything I'm doing is right, but I'm trying, and she seems to know that I'm trying, and she's trying too. That's all we can do for now.

----------

As for the hitting, the preschool teachers say she's never once done that at school. Whew! Glad to hear it! And I've taken my friends' advice which has so far significantly reduced hitting: we've assessed the situation and realized that she hits when she's angry, embarrassed, and/or wants control/attention. We've had her stomp her feet instead of hitting, which helps and cut the time-outs, because she loves the negative attention.

On Monday, she got mad at me because I gave her the wrong sippy cup(??), and she hauled off and smacked me hard on the arm. It actually hurt. My feelings were hurt, too, so it wasn't difficult to muster up some tears and offer a performance not unworthy of an Academy Award nomination. I'm already preparing my acceptance speech.

I furrowed my eyebrows and twisted my face in shock, awe, sadness. A little tear formed in the corner of my eye and gently ran down my cheek. I cradled my "injured" arm and choked back a little sob. Then I let the quiet, unrestrained weeping seep gently from the depths of my soul...

Not to brag, but it was pretty amazing. I watched Ellie slowly take it all in. Her eyes widened in horror. She backed slowly toward the kitchen cabinet until she bumped into it. She slid down into a sitting position on the floor, staring at me, devastated. Then she began sobbing uncontrollably.

It was both hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time, so I didn't keep it up long. I went to the sink and fashioned a fake bandage for my arm out of paper towel and polka-dotted washi tape. It looked like a scrapbooking project gone horribly wrong.

She calmed down and watched me carefully.

"Mama, why you got that on your arm?" she asked.
"This is where you hit me. It's sore, and I need a bandage," I explained.

"WAHHHH!!" the sobbing started again. Once more, she calmed down and asked me about the bandage. When I told her again, she sobbed... again.

Finally I took it off and threw it away. I was worried about the long-term effects of this experiment. She was just so upset. But I was hurt, too, even if just emotionally, and my feelings are important!

And a miraculous thing happened... the hitting has almost stopped completely, and before she does it, she's stopped to think about how I might react. The few times she has hit, it's been gently (still not okay), but it's more like she's testing than taking her anger out on me -- much easier to deal with. And all I have to do is look the tiniest bit shocked, sad, or hurt, and she stops right away.

And most importantly, I know my good kid is in there, somewhere behind these tantrums. In fact, her level of empathy completely took me off guard. I know now, for certain, that we can work together and bridge this gap between the terrible-twos, the horrible-threes, and whatever comes next!