Jonathan wasn't listening.
When I asked him to put his boots on at the sitters so we could go home, he looked at me with no expression, turned and walked way to continue playing robots.
This happened three times. To say I was frustrated, even angry, is an understatement.
"No cartoons for you tonight if you don't come right over here," I told him.
He scowled at me. I glared at him.
"If you do not come over here right now, no cartoons," I said again.
I approached him and he tried to walk away from me.
"No cartoons," I snapped.
And there was none that night.
On the way home I worried how I would entertain him why I cooked dinner and did other things I needed to do that night. Cartoons are my fall back for such things at times. By no means is the television a babysitter, but it can distract him long enough for me to get the chicken in the oven or the water boiling.
On this night, though, I didn't have an issue.
Finding some way to entertain my three year old wasn't an issue at all.
We played outside, splashed in the mud.
We played inside, pretending we were Transformers and monsters and robots.
We splashed in the tub, or he did, while I watched (and played on the computer in the room down the hall while watching him in the reflection of a wall hanging on the hallway wall, let's be honest.) And then we talked.
Or should I say he talked. And talked. And talked.
And laughed. He told me all about his day and what he likes and what makes him laugh. I knew my kid could talk, but not in such an excited tone of voice. It turns out he talks with his hands like his mother and also like his mother, when he gets really excited, he barely takes a breath (my husband can attest to this).
"You're better!" he declared suddenly as we cuddled on the couch while Josh Turner sang from the stereo. He was referring to how miserable I've been feeling with tightness in my chest and a stuffy nose.
Suddenly I realized -- I was better and I could breathe and laugh and cuddle my toddler without thinking about how miserable I felt.
So, dolling out a punishment that involves no television? I might have once steered clear of it.
Now I highly recommend it.
(Even if he didn't really see it as punishment. Darn it.)






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