(Brownie points to anyone who knows where the title came from.)
When I was in high school, a friend of mine had a bumper sticker that said “When Irish eyes are smilin’, ya’ know they're up to somethin’.” I always found it amusing, but Ashton has given it a whole new meaning. Maybe it is his mischievous smile, or maybe it is the fact that he inherited Grandpa Riordan’s Irish eyes, but Ashton’s eyes always seem to be smiling, and he is usually up to something.
Take last week for example. It all started out with changing him into his PJ’s. What is the natural 2-year-old reaction? Hit Mommy, of course. Then it was time for time out. I plopped Ashton in the sitting room and decided to keep the lights low to help him “settle down.” It wasn’t 30 seconds later that I noticed the light on and Ashton happily sitting on the couch. When asked about the lights, he stated proudly, “I, I turn them ooonnnn.” I looked at him sternly, and reminded him that he was supposed to stay in time out. I turned the lights back off and had not turned my back for a moment before the light was back on and Ashton was scurrying back to the couch.
Then came time for bed. I had put Ashton down for just a minute when I noticed the door was shut. “Strange,” I thought, and opened the door to see Ashton running back to his bed. A minute later I noticed that Ashton was nibbling on something. Fortunately for me, he has not perfected the fine art of lying (see footnote 1), and he cheerfully admitted that he had used his ESP (see footnote 2) to find the crumbled cookie in my bag. This was just after brushing his teeth, which is somewhat akin to trying to brush the teeth of a crocodile.
So after re-tackling his teeth, I finally put him down amidst a barrage of protests. That is, until he stopped to think for a second and then purposefully hit me. Before I could say, “Ashton, you don’t hit!” he sprang up, ran across the room, sat down in a chair and cheerfully stated, “I get time out now!” I suppose he was very proud of his logic, and I must admit it was a clever way to get out of going to bed. Perhaps I need to rethink my discipline strategy at bedtime.
Footnote 1: When I say Ashton has not perfected lying, I do not mean to imply that he is not practicing. His latest trick is to hit his brother and then start crying himself, claiming, “Isaac, he he hit me.”
Footnote 2: I mentioned Ashton’s ESP for sweets . . . I really think he may have special goody-finding radar. It doesn’t matter where we hide candy; he seems to know where it is. While I was still in Rochester, my Mom took the boys to church. Between meetings, she turned around to find Ashton missing. Panicked, she sifted through the halls looking for the boy. She finally found him in the kitchen where he had spotted some candy stored on the top shelf, pulled a chair in from a neighboring room and was climbing to reach the goods.
Take last week for example. It all started out with changing him into his PJ’s. What is the natural 2-year-old reaction? Hit Mommy, of course. Then it was time for time out. I plopped Ashton in the sitting room and decided to keep the lights low to help him “settle down.” It wasn’t 30 seconds later that I noticed the light on and Ashton happily sitting on the couch. When asked about the lights, he stated proudly, “I, I turn them ooonnnn.” I looked at him sternly, and reminded him that he was supposed to stay in time out. I turned the lights back off and had not turned my back for a moment before the light was back on and Ashton was scurrying back to the couch.
Then came time for bed. I had put Ashton down for just a minute when I noticed the door was shut. “Strange,” I thought, and opened the door to see Ashton running back to his bed. A minute later I noticed that Ashton was nibbling on something. Fortunately for me, he has not perfected the fine art of lying (see footnote 1), and he cheerfully admitted that he had used his ESP (see footnote 2) to find the crumbled cookie in my bag. This was just after brushing his teeth, which is somewhat akin to trying to brush the teeth of a crocodile.
So after re-tackling his teeth, I finally put him down amidst a barrage of protests. That is, until he stopped to think for a second and then purposefully hit me. Before I could say, “Ashton, you don’t hit!” he sprang up, ran across the room, sat down in a chair and cheerfully stated, “I get time out now!” I suppose he was very proud of his logic, and I must admit it was a clever way to get out of going to bed. Perhaps I need to rethink my discipline strategy at bedtime.
Footnote 1: When I say Ashton has not perfected lying, I do not mean to imply that he is not practicing. His latest trick is to hit his brother and then start crying himself, claiming, “Isaac, he he hit me.”
Footnote 2: I mentioned Ashton’s ESP for sweets . . . I really think he may have special goody-finding radar. It doesn’t matter where we hide candy; he seems to know where it is. While I was still in Rochester, my Mom took the boys to church. Between meetings, she turned around to find Ashton missing. Panicked, she sifted through the halls looking for the boy. She finally found him in the kitchen where he had spotted some candy stored on the top shelf, pulled a chair in from a neighboring room and was climbing to reach the goods.
