No words, just mirroring back (and magnifying) all that boy-lioncub yelling in the wee-little, closed-in bathroom. (We call it the (time-out) “Loud Room”, the “Angry Room”.)
And then I heard a mom’s voice saying, “John, sometimes you make Mommy so sad I want to cry and cry and cry all day.”
So then, we decided to try again. Start over. Do better next time.
It is called natural consequences, a part of interventions (from the Latin “interventiō”), a “systematic process of assessment and planning employed to re-mediate or prevent a social, educational, or developmental problem: early intervention for at-risk toddlers.” (Wikipedia)
You see, no other tool was working. None of the redirects were working. None of my “best laid plans of mice and men”.
When nothing else works, it’s sometimes “an eye for an eye”—to better understand the future social consequences of a loud, lousy decision.
He understood. He made better choices.
It probably won’t last all day. But each time, the understanding of the consequence lasts longer.
No other choice, it seems, than reciprocity every once in a while. (“that is what it feels like”.)
Randomly, reflecting the learning of B.F. Skinner’s chickens pecking at the corn.
“Tough Love” interventions build the respect John needs to function within society.
No time to lose. He gets older and bigger by the day.
Peace be with us,
(P.S. Clip art available to anyone via PowerPoint. Thank you. Simba, roar on !)