LM tried to hit me at least three times today. More than once, he actually made contact. There is a very instinctual reaction to being hit and that is simply this: hit back. Obviously, I didn't. But I was shocked at the intensity with which my blood pressure spiked and then how much will-power it took to calmly look him in the face and tell him, "Hitting is NOT okay. It hurts me and it is disrespectful. Go sit on the bench. Now." Particularly after the third or fourth time that this happened.
His father reassured me that it was not just me that was on the receiving end of this new phase of attempted power displays. That made me feel marginally better and less like I'd crossed some line with LM that left him feeling like he hated me for reasons unbeknownst to me. Still...the hitting has to stop. Consistency is key, I remind myself. If I draw the same line, every time, he'll eventually realize that it's not going to get him anywhere. Neither is spitting, yelling inappropriate words, or other various impulses that I'm sure I'll wrestle with in the coming weeks/months.
Oh, nannying (and parenting). If it's not one thing, it's another.
Off to bed. The only real solution.
No comments:
Post a Comment