Lesson Learned?
Lately we have been trying to teach the "you had better listen to what Mommy and Daddy tell you" lesson, with little success.
This afternoon, Brock and Leda picked tomatoes and peppers from our garden. Leda picked tomatoes, Brock picked his hot tomatoes - one is a hybrid which apparently is pretty hot and the other Serrano, which is apparently also pretty darn hot.
Brock had left his pepper bowl on the living room table and Leda and I came in from outside and I told Leda, don't touch Daddy's peppers, and I specifically told her not to eat them (yes, I realize that is where I went wrong!)
Next thing I know, the child is screaming and scrapping her tongue with her fingers and shaking like crazy. She bit into one of the hybrids - luckily she only bit into it, not bit it off, but that apparently was bad enough.
For the next 15 minutes it was everything we could do to calm her down. As she got a little calmer, we tried to use it as a learning experience - see, when Mommy tells you not to do something, it's for your own good, not because we don't love you or want you to grow up to love hot peppers.
So, lesson learned? Well, she's listened to everything we have told her to do since then, which, in itself, is not that impressive - we bribed her to eat an extra piece of meat for dinner by promising a lollipop (she had eaten a pretty decent amount by then, and she was the one who asked for a lollipop, so it's wasn't a bad thing) and the only other thing we told her to do was to come up with us to take a bath. She was pretty well behaved the rest of the evening.
So I guess time will tell - will she pay attention to us tomorrow when we tell her to do something or not to do something? We'll see. If she doesn't, I guess we can always try to remind her about the hot peppers!
This afternoon, Brock and Leda picked tomatoes and peppers from our garden. Leda picked tomatoes, Brock picked his hot tomatoes - one is a hybrid which apparently is pretty hot and the other Serrano, which is apparently also pretty darn hot.
Brock had left his pepper bowl on the living room table and Leda and I came in from outside and I told Leda, don't touch Daddy's peppers, and I specifically told her not to eat them (yes, I realize that is where I went wrong!)
Next thing I know, the child is screaming and scrapping her tongue with her fingers and shaking like crazy. She bit into one of the hybrids - luckily she only bit into it, not bit it off, but that apparently was bad enough.
For the next 15 minutes it was everything we could do to calm her down. As she got a little calmer, we tried to use it as a learning experience - see, when Mommy tells you not to do something, it's for your own good, not because we don't love you or want you to grow up to love hot peppers.
So, lesson learned? Well, she's listened to everything we have told her to do since then, which, in itself, is not that impressive - we bribed her to eat an extra piece of meat for dinner by promising a lollipop (she had eaten a pretty decent amount by then, and she was the one who asked for a lollipop, so it's wasn't a bad thing) and the only other thing we told her to do was to come up with us to take a bath. She was pretty well behaved the rest of the evening.
So I guess time will tell - will she pay attention to us tomorrow when we tell her to do something or not to do something? We'll see. If she doesn't, I guess we can always try to remind her about the hot peppers!
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