“No, Brantley!”
It is said a lot in our house, probably too much, if I am being honest.
The realization struck when Brantley's younger brother, inspired by the book "No, David!", excitedly announced his plan to write a book titled "No, Brantley!" It made me pause and consider the impact of this repetitive phrase.
Every time these words escape my lips, I sense a weight to them. I wonder, does Brantley feel it too?
I recognize the need for a substitute, a more positive redirection strategy. But, In those heated moments where Brantley is energetically beating a photo canvas, gnawing on the hose from our kitchen faucet or wiggling a poop smeared bottom out of his pants and across our couch “No, Brantley!” is my natural reaction.
As much as I wish I could find a balance between correction and encouragement, that step has managed to evade me in the midst of frustrating moments. I‘ve seen the motions for parents to remove negative language and all I can think is “these people must not have children that smear poop covered butts on their couch”.
So just as I have I have come to terms with Brantley’s wild escapades, I've also come to terms with the reality that, in the midst of chaos, I'm one of those moms who uses negative language. That's right, it's me – I'm part of that club, if you need me, I'll be scrubbing my couch, while echoes of "No, Brantley!" ring through our house.
コメント