No. 2 Son presented me with a drawing of the cover of his new book “The Hot Winter” this morning.  Wondering if he was writing something about global warming, I asked him what the story was going to be about.

“It’s about a really hot winter”, he said.

“Did you know that when it’s winter in Canada, it’s summer in Australia?” I said.  ”So when it’s cold here, it’s hot there.”

“If I was in Australia”, he said, “then it would be a non-fiction book.”

Mommy: “Eat your dinner. You want to grow big and strong, don’t you?”

Six year old No. 2 son: “I’m going to grow as big as a house!”

Mommy:  ”Well then, you’ll need eat everything  that’s on your plate.

Eight year old No. 1 Son leans over to me and says: “You know it’s scientifically impossible for a human being to grow as big as a house, don’t you?”

Mommy:  ”How about rice?”

Daddy:  ”Really?”

No. 1 Son:  ”Yeah! Let’s have rice!”

Daddy: “Since when do you like rice?  You don’t eat rice!”

No. 1 Son: “Yes I do!  I ate it last time, and the time before that, and the time before that!”

Yes!! Miracles happen!!  A month ago, we were lucky if we managed to get him to allow one lonely grain of rice on his plate.  Suddenly, he was willing to eating one tablespoon, and in the past week has increased that to almost a full 1/3 cup.

We’ve also made progress with eating mashed potatoes.

The day he starts eating corn, there will be much rejoicing.

His reply: “It’s still there!”

.

Me:  “There’s some in the top drawer of your dresser.”

No. 1 Son:  “There’s only ONE PAIR!!”

Okay, so I need to do laundry, I think to myself.

Me:  “You don’t need to wear more than one.”

No. 1 Son:  “I don’t like the one that’s in there.”

This is the child that insists that a long-sleeved red plaid shirt, white and teal plaid shorts and lime green socks are an appropriate fashion statement.

I stare blankly at my son, who is standing hunched over like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, arms hanging down cave-man style, with his eyes half closed, lip protruding and jaw jutting out.

Me:  “Go upstairs and get dressed.”

He stomps off grumbling about how unfair and mean I am.  Only one pair of underwear.  The horror, the horror…

He got sent to the corner, where he proceeded to scream even louder.

We have a very specific procedure for Time Out.  The Offending Child has to stand with his nose in the corner and his hands behind his back.  They have to be absolutely quiet – no whimpering, no talking – and maintain The Position the whole time.

If The Offending Child is in full meltdown and refusing to co-operate I walk away and give him some time to calm down.  I don’t start the timer until he’s ready to Assume The Position, and if he moves or talks, the time starts over.

Periodically, I’ll check to see how things are going: “Are you ready to start your time yet?”

Reply:  “NO!!!”

Me:  “Okay, I’ll come back.”

How long it takes to get a “yes” depends on how stubborn the Offending Child wants to be.  Thumper once chose to stand in the corner screaming for three hours for a four minute time out.

Me:  “Are you ready to start your time yet?”

Tigger:  “I MOST DEFINITELY… AM… NOT!!!”

I had to restrain myself to keep from laughing.  “Okay, you let me know when you’re ready then.”

It always amazes me that they will spend 20x longer being stubborn and refusing to do their time that the original Time Out was for.  Eventually though, boredom takes hold, and The Position is Assumed.

“I’m ready now!”

Six minutes later, Tigger was mostly calm, but I could see that all was still not right in his world.  I resigned myself to the idea that this was going to be one of those days when, having gotten up on the wrong side of bed, no amount of Time Outs would completely cure The Grumpies.

Me: “Evolution?”

No. 2 Son: “Because they’d sneeze in pepper water!!!”

:-7

Thumper rocks out at Canada Day, 2011