We have reached the tipping point with our kids. The three of them have always been full of energy and attitude. And for a while, I must admit, DH and I had got some pride (or at the very least very hearty laughs) out from the borderline psychopathic stuff they come up with. For example:
– Two weeks ago, it was pitch dark outside in the woods while we stayed at our friends’ house in Vermont and P. stood in the middle of the night facing the the double door windows in silence. I kept calling her and she would not turn back to face me. It was unnerving, worse than the whole ‘Josh, Josh’ scenes in the Blair Witch Project. I started to to freak out big time (I believe in ghosts, there you go, I am really out in every way now on this blog) so she eventually slowly turned around with a death stare and showed her teeth a la Shining’s Jack Nicholson. I almost peed in my pants from both fear and laughter.
– At this week’s music class, the teacher did a ‘let’s imagine animals’ version of the ‘Old MacDonald had a farm song’ and asked each child to describe animals, what they’re like and what noises they make etc. When most kids came up with straight answers: ‘pink pig’, ‘grey cat’, ‘rabbit with short ears’, G’s answer (while showing his
teeth jaws): ‘a big Papa Lion who eats a pig…’
P-S-Y-C-H-O. And here I was half grinning and half wondering whether I should lock my bedroom door at night time.
– At the last birthday party we attended, after L exited the party and slammed the door to lock all of us inside, one of the guests told me: ‘I assume he is one of yours too, the dudes with an attitude…’ The same guest had previously been shocked by a P shushing me down by saying: ‘shushhh Mom! If you keep talking I am not going to be very, very, very happy’ and a G running after people pretending to be a maniac crocodile.
So yeah up to now, we have been fairly lenient with the three of them because they have spunk and are funny. Except that recently their spunk has turned into insolence, aggressiveness and pure disregard for any rules. And it is no longer funny, even with a twisted dark sense of humor. G especially started to spit in our faces, bite like a stray dog, kick like a Tekken character and throw wooden toys, food, diapers, sound system speakers, shoes, etc. on the floor on a lucky day or on his siblings’ heads on an inspired day. I am getting very concerned by this primal behavior, especially after I caught him chewing a chicken bone under the dining table. Granted I myself eat cartilages and chew bones (I am Lao, it is what some of us just do hahaha) but NEVER under a table. C’mon now.
Anyway, the time for discipline with a big D has come. We have used in the past diverse strategies to discipline them or, should I say american style, reinforce positive behavior but these tricks are no longer working. Time out became a joke; they started to take the piss and time each other out on a regular basis as a game. We threatened to throw away their toys but now they happily do it themselves as to say: ‘We are not materialistic brats, we don’t give a shit’ as if…We tried the rewarding system with good points and stickers but they (and us parents too) got over it. So what was left? Empty hysterical and colorful threats delivered at the top of our lungs such as ‘Je te jure si tu n’arretes pas, je t’arrache les cheveux jusqu’a ce que tu ressembles a un bonze’ (I swear if you don’t stop, I will pull your hair until you look like a monk) or ‘Si tu continues a me frapper, je me casse pour toujours dans une ile deserte’ (‘If you keep hitting me, I am walking the hell out of the door for ever to live on a desert island).
We thus started something bold and painful to discipline our kids: discipline ourselves. So that’s how this house is going to be run from now on.
– No more ‘1,2,3, 3 and half..ok I’ll count until 5 and if you don’t stop I will not give you milk (my kids’ Achilles’ heel) before bedtime! OK, then this time you can have it but next time, beware’. It is now 1,2,3 no milk even if you turn blue, scream for murder, kick my breasts or tell me that you love me.
– No more ‘let’s get the bouncy castle out, kiddos’ at any occasion. I mean, we bought something to help us through this tough winter and they love it so much that it could have become our most prized bargaining chip but what did we do? We fucking ruined it by setting it out without being asked to because DH and I are moronic retarded pre-schoolers! Now they will have to earn the BC.
– No more screen time. No, we can’t do this. It is like suicide bombing myself.
– No more… Actually we have nothing else. Any ideas? We are desperate.