On the whole, I’ve been feeling fairly optimistic about Bouncy Boy lately. I’ve seen that he wants to improve his behavior, and I’ve seen him working on it. I’ve seen him bite his tongue instead of deliver a put-down. I’ve seen him remember to use polite words. I’ve seen him be gentle with our pets. I’ve seen lots of good stuff lately.
– — –
Yesterday at the playground he whacked a kid on the back with a great big stick. A third grader, no less, whom he barely knows. I didn’t see what happened. Another kid came up to me and told me Bouncy Boy had “hit Jason with a stick so hard that Jason was crying.” (And I happened to be talking with Jason’s mom at the time… add embarrassment into my mix of dismay and concern… ) So Jason’s mom and I went over to find out what happened.
“I hate him! He was mean to me,” said Bouncy Boy, still brandishing the stick.
“I was not,” sobbed Jason. “I didn’t even say anything to you. You just came up behind me and whacked me!”
Bouncy Boy relinquished the stick, but I had to threaten him with “a great big punishment” to get him to apologize. I reminded him for the millionth time that it is never okay to hurt people, whether or not they say something mean to you. I apologized profusely to Jason and his mom; I explained to Jason that Bouncy Boy is still learning this lesson; and I told them that we were leaving the playground right then, because of the incident.
Bouncy Boy’s outright refusal to do as I asked (in this case, apologize), in public, in a situation where not doing the thing is absolutely unacceptable, happens pretty often. Unfortunately, the threat of “a punishment” is the only thing I’ve found that works. I always use the word punishment, not consequence, I say it fiercely, and I refuse to specify what the punishment would be. Anything short of a dire threat has no effect on him whatsoever. I hate doing this. It feels so wrong! But again, not apologizing is simply not an option.
As we walked home Bouncy Boy desperately wanted to know what the “great big punishment” would have been if he had not apologized. I was at a loss, because I didn’t have anything in mind. He was very persistent, and I finally caved and said something about no screen time all weekend — screen time only being allowed at our house on weekends, anyway.
I wish I hadn’t said that. Depriving him of something on the weekend as a punishment for something he did on Tuesday is ridiculous. Not to mention that screen time has nothing to do with what happened on the playground. I was still upset, myself, and I couldn’t think of a better response. I should have stuck to my guns and simply said that I was glad he had decided to apologize so that we didn’t have to worry about a punishment.
– — –
Bouncy Boy’s defiance disturbs me deeply — much more than the hitting.
Temper tantrums, I can understand. We all lose our temper every once in a while. Hopefully not too often, but I’m sure there isn’t a person alive who hasn’t lost her temper at some point. I can understand losing it. I can understand forgetting the rule about using your words.
Attention issues, hyperactivity, impulsivity… well, I can understand those, too. I can understand a chemical imbalance in the brain (if that’s what it is). I can understand being bored in school, not paying attention, feeling antsy. I can understand acting in haste and repenting at leisure.
But when he says no? Often, to an adult whom he barely knows? Not to mention his parents? I cannot imagine a reality in which I would ever say no to an authority figure the way he does. Cannot imagine it. Cannot imagine either of our other two kids doing it either. Sure, they’ll argue till they’re blue in the face, but fold their arms across their chest and simply refuse? They would never.
I wish I could have empathy, but I don’t.
