Dreaded Time Out

"Hi. I'm Iowa Drew. I'm surrounded by tulips and my hands are lovingly placed on my dad's leg."

Iowa Drew happens to be a little different than Arizona Drew. Don't get me wrong. Iowa Drew had her moments. But Arizona Drew has aged fifteen years and is my teenager in a pint-sized body. At times she is the sweetest love as this world has never seen. Earlier today I laughed so hard I cried as she sang her rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow. She sang all the words she knew and made up the words she didn't. She makes me want to jump for joy.

But something about the Arizona heat really gave her a mean streak. Out of nowhere since the move, she starts hitting. She really likes to hit you in the face when she's mad, but if she can't get that she'll take an arm or a leg. And "no mommy!" are the most commonly used words around here. It's one thing when this kind of crap happens at home. It's an entirely different thing when you are in a crowded store and it happens, and everyone around you gives you the look like, "Oooh. What are you going to do about that?"

So this last week we started time out. We set up her pack and play in the extra bedroom and use it any time she gets nasty. I read somewhere that time out should only last in minutes how ever many years old the child is. So I really only try to keep her in there for a minute or two. The way she screams when she is in there you'd think she had been imprisoned for hours.

I think we are making some progress though. Now she is stopping her hand in mid air before it makes the hit and she rethinks it. Or after she tells me no, she will quickly say, "Shorry mommy. Shorry mommy." We still have a lot more progress to be made, but time out has been a gem. Working here on tightening the reins on that feisty Arizona Drew.