Gnashed His Terrible Teeth...

As I was driving home from the plastic surgeon today (don't EVEN go there...), I was trying very hard to not fall asleep. What can I say? I'm tired.

Anyway, there was apparent peace in the backseat until my little Lily gave that wounded cry that indicated she had been injured. Not upset, not saddened, INJURED. You know what I am talking about: initial yip of a cry, followed by the gasping, gasping, gasping until, at last, the blood-curdling scream has enough gasp to blast forth and reach Mommy's ears in wild, unleashed woundedness. What the...

I looked in the rear view mirror at the tiny, guilty looking pre-man in the middle seat who chirped, "I didn't hurt her!"

He hasn't figured out yet that when he says things like that I know for sure that he has, indeed, done some naughty deed.

Home we went, and while I dragged my eldest child from the car, he protested, "NO! SHE'S HUNGRY! SHE'S TIRED! AAAAHRRRRGGGG!!!"

*PLOP* he went into the naughty chair, while I sorted out my children into nice piles, and tried, again, not to fall asleep.

After gently folding Lily into her blankets and putting her nicely into the linen closet, er, I mean bed, I marched up to the guilty culprit, and demanded, "WHAT did you do?"

His little eyebrows collided together in the middle of his forehead and he, sheepishly, asked, "Uh, I think I bit her...?"

Oh boy.

Now, I can sorta understand why Joshua would do that to Eva, since she frequently eggs him on, but Lily?? My precious little baby?!?!? That's like picking on an amoeba.

What do you do in this situation???

I had heard somewhere that when your child has done something wrong, you tell them you are disappointed. Okay, so I did that:

"I am very disappointed in you, Josh."

No effect.

Then, of course, the whole, "Pick on someone your own size" philosophy? Well, perhaps I should point out how small she is, and that will help...

"She is a baby!"

No effect.

Okay, then I should take away something he really, really wants.

"You don't get to watch any TV for the rest of the day."

*Cha-CHING* Bingo! Joshua melts into a puddle of little boy.

Now, don't get me wrong here. Josh only gets to watch TV once a week, so taking it away was HUGE.

But, the Norse woman in me felt the need for some further brutish-like punishment.

"But Eva can," I added.

So Joshua spent lunch time in his room, while Eva sat on the couch and ate chips (and a sandwich...I am not just feeding my kids junk food...and don't throw yesterday in my face when I gave Josh a bag of jelly beans when he was hungry...those are exceptions, not rules).

Now, he is spending "quiet time" on the couch. Jeremy invented "quiet time" which, if you take out the "quiet," and add "out" after "time"...well, you get the idea.

I wish Joshua had come with a manual.

I wish I had come with a manual... Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have just become a granola mountain woman.