I think I've got the hang of discipline, at least most of the time. We don't have any major issues most days. Today, however, marked a new event in my parenthood. I put a giraffe into time out. Giraffe is still in time out, in fact.
When I hear silly baby talk, and ask that it be stopped, I am told "It's not me, Mummy. It's Puppy." When I say that blocks are not for throwing, I find out that "Gorilla throwed the block, Mummy." Sometimes in the car, Zaboomafoo flails his long arms around, and bonks a sibling in the head. Cars zoom through the air, and crash into walls. Little People Farm equipment zooms into other games, where it is not welcome.
This afternoon, Giraffe would not stop flying in the living room. I have spoken to all the animals (and children) about appropriate living room behaviour. I've pointed out the glass candle holders. Creatures have been redirected to the Family Room in the basement. Giraffe, though, just wasn't listening. I finally told all parties involved "If Giraffe does not stop flying around in here, she will have to go to Time Out."
This is serious business. None of the human Terrors have been in Time Out for several months. We have not needed this threat for a while.
Giraffe heard me. And she flew across the room, sailing through the atmosphere just below the ceiling fan. Total disobedience, that giraffe. So she got taken to Time Out post haste.
Boy Terror had a few quiet moments of tears for his beloved Giraffe, but he knows the rules. When Giraffe has had time to think about her actions, she will be able to come back out to play. Sigh. It really is a zoo around here.