Playground bully
Devon has definitely gotten more demanding in her needs. I'm not sure if it's that she's realized (consciously) that she has them or if she has the modicum of language skills to verbalize them. Walt mentioned this to me last night, and I also noticed it today. He and I were discussing how she'll now often be in the car and you'll ask her if she wants something.
Devon, do you want a cracker?
No, no, no, NO, NO!
This seems to happen primarily when she doesn't want something (or doesn't want to do something); she'll say no once or twice, and then she'll escalate it more and more emphatically, often ending in a shriek. It's as though telling you several times, instead of once, will help you get the message that no, she doesn't want that cracker. Late this afternoon when Devon and I went to the playground before dinner, we had a similar experience: do you want to go on the slide? nonononono! I have yet to see her do this when she does want to do something, though. A positive activity seems to be settled merely with, "Yeah."
She's also getting a little aggressive with other kids; I get the distinct feeling that she's testing her boundaries with me (something I suppose I should get used to, since I'm sure it will be happening for the next 25 years). I suspect this may not be happening at Elaine's, either, since I haven't heard anything from Elaine about agro behavior, making me all the more suspicious that it's about testing parental limits.
Today at the playground we were in the sandbox, and for a while she was walking around happily in the sand and amusing herself. Then we went to the sandbox slide (this sandbox has a very small -- perhaps 3' -- slide that goes into the sandbox itself) where there happened to be 3 or 4 other children. She went on the slide a couple of times, and then I saw her very deliberately pick up a fistful of sand and walk towards one of the children (who was probably about a year old and couldn't walk). She kept her fist clenched the entire way, so she was clearly trying to contain the sand -- this wasn't soon-to-be-abandoned impulse. I jumped in to intercept and said, "Don't throw sand in the sandbox," and had to repeat it a second time (she was still stalking this poor kid) until she threw the sand horizontally. She didn't really throw the sand at this girl, but she definitely didn't not throw it either.
Then a little while later she was playing in the "tunnels" (short little tunnels in a concrete wall where kids can climb through) with a boy who was just about her age. I saw her walk over to him -- again, very deliberately -- and push him. I apologized profusely but the boy's mother was actually quite unconcerned, even after they started running around the playground, Devon about 1 step behind this boy with her arms out Frankenstein-like. I'm certain she was trying to push him again. Luckily he was faster than she was, so he avoided a second shove.
These episodes almost always end in an absolute tantrum (usually on her end, although occasionally I confess I feel like throwing one on my end too). In the sandbox incident, she tried to throw sand again, and I plucked her out of the sandbox while reminding her that she could not throw sand in it. This precipitated a huge tantrum -- kicking, screaming, crying (with the extra filip of copious amounts of snot running out her nose) when I carried her out of the sandbox. These tantrums are like a Hawaiian storm, though; something triggers them, there's a fierce little downpour and then they quickly blow through.
[ed note: Walt finally got in contact with Guillermo, our painter, who got back from his vacation today. He swears up and down that his crew will be here on Monday -- not, I'd note, today or tomorrow which were the original post-El Salvador reschedule dates. I'm utterly convinced that they will not finish by the time we have to move in (now July 31), so we'll be confined to one room while they roam the halls with their rollers. I'm suspecting this because when he originally saw the place he estimated it would be 4+ weeks to paint, and I just don't believe that he'll be able to make up that time with extra people. Or perhaps I should say that he won't be able to make it up to my standards.
The only good thing about the delay -- and truly, this is the glass half-full in me -- is that perhaps, perhaps our cabinets will arrive while he's still here so he can paint those at the same time. I shudder to think how long it will take him to get organized and come back to paint the cabinets separately, which was the original plan.]
Devon, do you want a cracker?
No, no, no, NO, NO!
This seems to happen primarily when she doesn't want something (or doesn't want to do something); she'll say no once or twice, and then she'll escalate it more and more emphatically, often ending in a shriek. It's as though telling you several times, instead of once, will help you get the message that no, she doesn't want that cracker. Late this afternoon when Devon and I went to the playground before dinner, we had a similar experience: do you want to go on the slide? nonononono! I have yet to see her do this when she does want to do something, though. A positive activity seems to be settled merely with, "Yeah."
She's also getting a little aggressive with other kids; I get the distinct feeling that she's testing her boundaries with me (something I suppose I should get used to, since I'm sure it will be happening for the next 25 years). I suspect this may not be happening at Elaine's, either, since I haven't heard anything from Elaine about agro behavior, making me all the more suspicious that it's about testing parental limits.
Today at the playground we were in the sandbox, and for a while she was walking around happily in the sand and amusing herself. Then we went to the sandbox slide (this sandbox has a very small -- perhaps 3' -- slide that goes into the sandbox itself) where there happened to be 3 or 4 other children. She went on the slide a couple of times, and then I saw her very deliberately pick up a fistful of sand and walk towards one of the children (who was probably about a year old and couldn't walk). She kept her fist clenched the entire way, so she was clearly trying to contain the sand -- this wasn't soon-to-be-abandoned impulse. I jumped in to intercept and said, "Don't throw sand in the sandbox," and had to repeat it a second time (she was still stalking this poor kid) until she threw the sand horizontally. She didn't really throw the sand at this girl, but she definitely didn't not throw it either.
Then a little while later she was playing in the "tunnels" (short little tunnels in a concrete wall where kids can climb through) with a boy who was just about her age. I saw her walk over to him -- again, very deliberately -- and push him. I apologized profusely but the boy's mother was actually quite unconcerned, even after they started running around the playground, Devon about 1 step behind this boy with her arms out Frankenstein-like. I'm certain she was trying to push him again. Luckily he was faster than she was, so he avoided a second shove.
These episodes almost always end in an absolute tantrum (usually on her end, although occasionally I confess I feel like throwing one on my end too). In the sandbox incident, she tried to throw sand again, and I plucked her out of the sandbox while reminding her that she could not throw sand in it. This precipitated a huge tantrum -- kicking, screaming, crying (with the extra filip of copious amounts of snot running out her nose) when I carried her out of the sandbox. These tantrums are like a Hawaiian storm, though; something triggers them, there's a fierce little downpour and then they quickly blow through.
[ed note: Walt finally got in contact with Guillermo, our painter, who got back from his vacation today. He swears up and down that his crew will be here on Monday -- not, I'd note, today or tomorrow which were the original post-El Salvador reschedule dates. I'm utterly convinced that they will not finish by the time we have to move in (now July 31), so we'll be confined to one room while they roam the halls with their rollers. I'm suspecting this because when he originally saw the place he estimated it would be 4+ weeks to paint, and I just don't believe that he'll be able to make up that time with extra people. Or perhaps I should say that he won't be able to make it up to my standards.
The only good thing about the delay -- and truly, this is the glass half-full in me -- is that perhaps, perhaps our cabinets will arrive while he's still here so he can paint those at the same time. I shudder to think how long it will take him to get organized and come back to paint the cabinets separately, which was the original plan.]

1 Comments:
Really amazing! Useful information. All the best.
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