You know, I got some strange advice when Luke was a baby--mostly about how to avoid "spoiling" him--but once he became a toddler, most of that stopped. And this time around, I've been very pleased to not have received much in the way of unsolicited advice. Apparently, I looked like I had it under control (Ha!)
Now that Weston has figured out how to throw tantrums--isn't it awfully early for this?--the advice is starting. At a playdate recently, while I was trying to re-direct Weston and he was making his displeasure known:
Another mom: Have you started using time-outs yet?
Me, distracted and assuming she was talking about with Luke: Uh, no...I mean, not usually, but if he's having a hard time controlling himself, then we ask him to sit and calm down.
The other mom, looking confused: Haha...he understands that? *Gestures to Weston*
Me: Oh! Oh, the baby? Time-outs with the baby?
The other mom: Yeah! We started doing time-outs around this age for tantrums. We strapped him into his high chair and he had to sit facing the wall for a minute.
Me: Huh. Did it work?
The other mom: Oh, yeah, worked great.
Me: He stopped having tantrums?
The other mom: Oh, no. But we're very consistent. He always goes in time-out for tantrums, even now.
At this point, I started feeling a little bit seventh dimension-ish, especially when her nearly 3-year-old proceeded to have a tantrum about wanting juice. If only I could have figured out a way to word it without being blatantly rude, I would have loved to ask what her definition of "worked great," was because, uh, dude. If over two years of very consistent punishment for a behavior didn't result in the extinction of said behavior, I would probably be questioning my approach.
And then, last week, we were at the park and I took Weston out of the swing when he didn't wish to be taken out of the swing. Holy mother of all tantrums, that was a doozy. As I was standing there, wondering what demon had taken possession of my child, the mother at the next swing decided that I must need some advice.
Swing Mom: Oh, you need to pop him.
Me: Huh?! Him? *Gesturing to Weston* He's only ten months old.
Swing Mom: Well, if he's old enough to show his butt like that, then he's old enough to have it smacked.
I had to very quickly exit the conversation before I smacked *her* because really? Spanking a ten-month-old? For crying? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that just make him cry MORE?!
Looks like it's time to prepare myself for the onslaught of goofy advice again. Geezum.
Now that Weston has figured out how to throw tantrums--isn't it awfully early for this?--the advice is starting. At a playdate recently, while I was trying to re-direct Weston and he was making his displeasure known:
Another mom: Have you started using time-outs yet?
Me, distracted and assuming she was talking about with Luke: Uh, no...I mean, not usually, but if he's having a hard time controlling himself, then we ask him to sit and calm down.
The other mom, looking confused: Haha...he understands that? *Gestures to Weston*
Me: Oh! Oh, the baby? Time-outs with the baby?
The other mom: Yeah! We started doing time-outs around this age for tantrums. We strapped him into his high chair and he had to sit facing the wall for a minute.
Me: Huh. Did it work?
The other mom: Oh, yeah, worked great.
Me: He stopped having tantrums?
The other mom: Oh, no. But we're very consistent. He always goes in time-out for tantrums, even now.
At this point, I started feeling a little bit seventh dimension-ish, especially when her nearly 3-year-old proceeded to have a tantrum about wanting juice. If only I could have figured out a way to word it without being blatantly rude, I would have loved to ask what her definition of "worked great," was because, uh, dude. If over two years of very consistent punishment for a behavior didn't result in the extinction of said behavior, I would probably be questioning my approach.
And then, last week, we were at the park and I took Weston out of the swing when he didn't wish to be taken out of the swing. Holy mother of all tantrums, that was a doozy. As I was standing there, wondering what demon had taken possession of my child, the mother at the next swing decided that I must need some advice.
Swing Mom: Oh, you need to pop him.
Me: Huh?! Him? *Gesturing to Weston* He's only ten months old.
Swing Mom: Well, if he's old enough to show his butt like that, then he's old enough to have it smacked.
I had to very quickly exit the conversation before I smacked *her* because really? Spanking a ten-month-old? For crying? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that just make him cry MORE?!
Looks like it's time to prepare myself for the onslaught of goofy advice again. Geezum.
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