I am finally mastering the intricate art of shaping disciplinary measures to suit my individual children's personalities and responses.
Where once a loud demand of "Time Out!" accompanied by a firmly pointed finger in the direction of some remote and boring location within the house, pretty much covered everyone for any and every misdemeanor, I've finally learnt how ineffective this is. (Completely aside from the fact that, after 6 children, I've got no memory cells left at all and regularly forget I sent someone off for some time of reflection t until the next meal when I hear a meek voice call out for permission to finally leave Time Out!)
Being placed into the cot stops Boombah in his tracks (since, unlike his siblings, he is almost 3 and still hasn't figured out he can climb out if and when he wants to!). Removal of privileges (and by "privileges" I mean time on the computer) works well for Pants (and by "works well" I mean utterly devastates him). Screen bans are generally effective for the Rabbit. And some time to calm down followed by a detailed, clear explanation of the problem and other more appropriate behaviour works for Tubby.
But I cannot figure out the HoneyGirl. If I put her in Time Out, she finds some creative way to turn her punishment into mine - like drawing on the floor with a random pencil she grabbed on the way past; or pulling bits of paint off the wall where she is sitting; or sneaking past Time Out and into my room where she jumps on my bed, runs the tap in my ensuite, tries on all my shoes and then silently returns to Time Out and pretends she has been sitting there all along.
If I take away screen time or privileges, she waits til one of the boys are enjoying the computer or the Wii and looks suitably uninvolved and innocent until I leave the room, and then manipulates them into "sharing" their turn with her. And then comes running to me to "dob" on her brothers for not sharing or doing it her way!
And so most recently I decided to try the approach that works on Tubby - a nice friendly chat about the matter. A detailed discussion on the reasons why her behaviour was inappropriate. An open forum on why I made the decision I did and why she needs to respect this.
Quite simply - a good old fashioned lecture.
The HoneyGirl likes my reading glasses. She likes to get them out, hold them, sit on them, put her fingerprints all over them, spit on them, wipe them, drop them on the floor, step on them and most of all, wear them. Given she has perfect eyesight, and my glasses aren't designed to cope well with rough treatment, she is not allowed to touch them.
And so of course, she does.
Often.
I put them up high and attempt to hide them from her, but that usually results in her finding them anyway, and/or me completely forgetting where I put them and thus being unable to use them anyway. Until the HoneyGirl finds them to play with again!
The Rooster walked past her at the computer recently and saw that, once again, she had my glasses out. And on. So he reminded her of the rule about Mummy's glasses and told her to put them away.
Upon his return some few minutes later, he noticed she was still wearing them and likely engaging in all manner of optometry assessments as she placed first one grubby finger on a lens and looked through the other side, and the changed lens, and then did a bit of a spit clean before starting her experiments all over again.
Noting that not only was his delightful daughter breaking a well-known house rule, she was also now actively disobeying him, the Rooster did what any responsible and concerned father would do - he told the HoneyGirl he was going to tell Mum.
And so he did.
Once I had fully grasped the whole situation, including the death stare the HoneyGirl had given her father as she'd narrowed her eyes, creased her brows and spat through gritted teeth "Don't. You. Dare", I thought it would be a good opportunity to try the new approach.
I sat down with my daughter and my glasses, got nice and close so we were speaking face to face, and explained all things "optometrical" to her. How eyes work - or in my case, don't work. What reading glasses do. How they help me but might hurt her. How perfect her vision is. How important good vision is. What we use eyesight for. What a true gift eyesight really is. How it might feel to be blind.
Not long after we started this detailed discussion, I noticed the HoneyGirl's expression - it was that of someone who had something pressing to share.
I was encouraged. She was taking this in, wanting to engage and discuss with me. So I continued teaching her and explaining in detail why it was so important she did not touch my glasses or wear them. It was all going so well.
After some minutes of me explaining and describing, and the HoneyGirl patiently awaiting her turn to respond and share some insight on the matter, I paused. And invited her to share her thoughts, since she'd obviously been waiting to express some wisdom since the conversation began. I focussed my attention on her, and waited for her to speak.
The HoneyGirl took a deep breath, looked me square in the eyes and declared
"Mum, when you started talking, you accidently spat on me."
