I hate it when kids interupt adults.
Hate is a very strong word in my house. I will explain “strong words” in a later post. Back to the interrupting thing. I hate it when kids interupt. An “excuse me mommy” is always necessary. I do not always stop the conversation right then and there, even with the polite words. I hold the childs hand so he knows that I know he is waiting for me. When I feel he has been patient long enough I stop my conversation.
That is an easy one to teach. I would say a good week of constant, ”what do you say when two adults are speaking?” will get the job done.
I had a bigger problem than that. Imagine dinner at my house. Four boys, a baby girl, hubby, and me sitting around the table. I must say, it gets very loud. We have a ritual every night. We do not say grace. We go around the table telling each other what we are thankful for that particular day. The 11 year old might say “playing outside wih so and so.” Followed by the six year old and his list of exactly what he did in alphabetical and chronological order. The four year old might then say that he is thankful for jumping on the trampoline. The littlest of the boys always starts with thanking me for making dinner (which he usually doesn‘t eat - I don‘t get it ), and ends with how much he loves his new baby sister.
The problem is, until a few days ago, they could not shut up long enough to NOT interrupt one of their siblings (or us for that matter) during this wonderful family time. So... mama laid down the new rules.
Welcome to California Boys and The Three Strikes Law!
You interrupt? Strike One.
Again? Strike two
OH NO! Not the third time! DONE. YOU ARE SO OUTTA HERE. I do not care how much you have eaten or how hungry you are. UPSTAIRS YOUNG MAN, SHOWER, AND INTO BED!!
It worked! I couldn’t believe it! Of course there was a sacraficial lamb to prove that we meant business. I didn’t care. He marched upstairs and did his business and was in his room before six!
It took one time for them to REALLY understand the newest of the rules in the Turner house.
They know they better shut that adorable trap of theirs before strike three!
Muthahood Ain’t For Sissies | Motherhood Ain’t For Sissies