A few weeks ago, I discovered that Mike Tyson works out at the same gym as me. Coincidentally, my 2-year-old, G, started hitting that same day. Naturally, I assume the two are somehow related. He hits friends, family, and foe alike. If he is happy, he hits. Sad, he hits. Mad, he hits hard. Playing, he hits with a toy. Eating, he hits with food. Spotting a trend here?
We tried saying "No." He hit us. We tried taking away his toys. He hit us. We tried crying. He hit us and laughed. We tried saying "Ouch". He hit us in a different spot. We tried flicking his hands. He hit us and cried. So now we are on the timeout tract. He has a bench he has to sit on and it is somewhat working. By working, I mean, he is far enough that he can't reach us to hit us. He spends a lot of time on that bench.
Luckily, we live in Vegas and MMA is big here. Thanks a lot Tyson!
Pammy
No comments:
Post a Comment