From the other side of the bathroom door yesterday, I heard Big Kid scream, "LITTLE KID BIT ME!!! MOM-MOM-MOM-MOM LITTLE KID BIT ME!"
I was tired. I doubted it was fatal, I had already had enough of this day, and I just wanted to go to the bathroom in peace.
"HANDLE IT BETWEEN YOURSELVES," I yelled back. I heard him pause at the other side of the door and then heard the slap of his feet on the tile as he left the room. I heard:
"little kid, mom said for me to handle it, your biting, and I decided I'm gonna give you a time out."
I never thought it would work. A time out from me invokes screaming, begging, running through the house, promises of better behavior and usually a wrestling match. I thought Big Kid was probably about to get beat down.
"A time out? For how long?" little kid asked quietly.
"You know, I'm not gonna say a time. It's not gonna be 3 minutes like mom does. You go in dere and sit on your bed until you feel like bein' a good boy and knowin' not to bite people. 'Til you can be nice."
and little kid went to his room...and sat on his bed...for about 2 minutes, after which he stuck his head out and said, "Bubby? I can come out now?"
"Can you be nice now? You ready to be a good boy?"
"Yep. I sorry, bubby."
"Come on out. You're a good boy who makes bad toices, little kid."
It was so sweet--and although it should concern me that Big Kid may be a more capable parent than I am (at 6 years of age), I'm mostly glad I may be able to get him to take on some of my parenting responsibilities from time to time.