Let me start by saying that Mommy was sent to the principal's office in 4th grade. For throwing wet toilet paper onto the ceiling of the girls' bathroom. I also got in trouble in 5th grade for starting a food fight in the cafeteria. So young and so naughty, right? I'm pretty sure, too, that Daddy must have made his way to that office at some point in his life.

But you, little man, beat us both by several years. You were sent to the principal's office at the tender age of two!

The issue at hand is the spitting. You've been doing it for several months now. It comes about usually when you're frustrated. And that frustration stems, mostly, from discipline. Like when you hit the dog and Mommy or Daddy say something like, "No, Devin. It's not nice to hit the dog. It hurts."

Sppppllllllttttt!

You respond immediately with a forceful version of a raspberry. We call it spitting because saliva does indeed come splattering from your lips, but it's not the traditional form of spitting. It's definitely akin to a raspberry -- only a much more powerful version.

Wanda and Cathy have been working with you at daycare to try to come up with their own solution, while Mommy and Daddy have failed to solve it here at home. I've been recently telling you to go into the other room and "spit" because it's not nice to do that to people. And you happily comply, trotting into the other room, aiming one into thin air and then coming back. It's the best thing I've latched onto so far.

But Wanda told me that they were making no progress with you at daycare the other day, so they decided on a new tactic. They sent you to see LISA! The director (hence, principal) of the center. Ooooooohhh! You didn't want to go. But they took you down to her office and left you alone with her, where she very nicely explained that it's not nice to spit. Wanda's logic was that you needed someone you weren't as close to to have a chat with you since no one else was making progress. And it seemed to work. You came back to the classroom and were very good about it the rest of the afternoon. And the one time you did make an attempt, Wanda simply asked, "Do you want to go see Lisa again?" and you stopped mid-spit.

The funniest thing is how sweet Lisa is. She just gently reprimanded you about it and brought you back to your room. And you seemed to get the point. At least temporarily. I'm not quite sure how we'll handle it at home. We may have to borrow Dave and Leslie from next door and have them give it a whirl.

Posted on June 7, 2006 12:32 PM