That bottom lip
I bet no one would guess from this smile how big of a pouty face you can put on.
You've become fairly accomplished at it lately. I can relate. Who wants to hear "no" when they want something? Not many of us. Adults feel frustration too, ya know. But your world totally crumbles when you hear that word some days.
I honestly try to limit the number of times you hear it, or I try to package it differently. Like if you ask for a certain food you can't have, I'll offer another option. If you're running in a store, I'll say "Please, walk," instead of "No running." But. You sometimes push, push, push until you get that "no"...almost as if you WANT to hear it.
And then you stick that bottom lip right out there.
How do 4-year-olds learn how to do that? How is it passed on from generation to generation? My pouting has evolved since childhood and I don't stick that lip out anymore. So where'd ya pick it up? Where did your friends discover this trick? I'm amazed sometimes at what seems to be inherent in our natures as humans. It goes along with the taking a drink and making that big, "Ahhhh!" noise afterward. Who teaches you that stuff?
Anyway, you got to pouting this morning after I raised my voice to you. So I took you to a chair and sat you on my lap and we hugged. And I explained that, if you listen to me the first, even the second time, I wouldn't have to raise my voice. Because who really wants to do that? I'd rather have lovely cheerful conversations with you all day long. So maybe you could just...listen?
It's a lot to ask, I know. You could try it, though. So when I say, "Devin, please don't do that with your spoon," you could stop doing that with your spoon. Or if I ask, "Sweetie, can you please take off your shoes?", instead of giggling and running away from me, shoes still on, you could stop for just a moment and remove them.
Is that really too much to ask?
I guess it is at this point. Repetition is all I can do from my end. I promise, too, to try to rein in the decibel levels a bit and fortify my store of patience. I can't guarantee I'll succeed every time, but the effort will be there.
So you give the listening thing a go and I'll give the being-patient-with-my-little-sprite thing a whirl. It's bound to work, right?
