Where I think about logic
I cannot deny that one of the greatest & most-endless sources of joy in my life is my kids. I love it when they learn something. I love the way that so much in life is new to them, and the endless joy & curiosity that comes with anything “new.” I love that, no matter how many times they may watch a movie, they’re *still* mesmerized & shocked by a plot twist.
And, well, I love the moments when they’re not too intelligent.
Yesterday was a fun day – we woke up and went to church for the first Sunday of choir (I’m the organist) and Sunday School. We then went to a pet adoption event to see if we might be ready for a new dog (verdict is yes – but the right dog for us wasn’t there – however, there was yummy yummy beer there, so it was hardly a wasted visit). On the way home, we talked about what to do next weekend (Duffy is heading out of town for a much-needed girls’ weekend, so I’m figuring out what to do with the kids – currently, I’m torn between any number of amusement parks, the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire, Crystal Cave, or just hanging out with video games & movies) and, somehow, The La called CJ a butt.
In explaining that we don’t call other people names, CJ called me a butt.
I explained that, when we got home, each child would have to go to timeout (they’re four years old, so timeout means being alone for four minutes).
In all of this, I made it clear that I realized that they were “just being silly,” and I wasn’t taking away anything that they then wanted to do (CJ wanted to play video games, Leila wanted to watch My Little Pony) – but they had to have a timeout first.
We got home. I parked the van. I got out of the van and dropped some stuff off in the house . . . the kids, however, were not yet in the house.
To avoid the timeout, they were hiding in the van. Part of me wanted to count the time they spent in the van as the time-out (this equaled significantly more than four minutes), but that seemed to be “letting them win” or, at least, “letting them figure out that time-outs aren’t all that bad.” I tried to remind them that, the sooner they took their timeouts, the sooner they could get to the things they actually wanted to do.
Nothing worked. It wasn’t until many tears later that the children worked their way to their rooms & closed the doors behind themselves.
Ahh, those four minutes of relative quiet.
I still don’t think Leila understands why she got in trouble for calling her brother a butt.