Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Timeout!

I honestly don't think people believe me when I tell them, yes Faith does get mad and yes, she does throw tantrums. They look at Faith and see a sweet, well-behaved little girl who can do no wrong. HA! Yesterday, though, Faith herself told everyone in the therapy waiting room that she had to have a timeout. Of course they had to believe her, because Faith is too good of a girl to lie about something. (Or so they think!)

It all began when I told Faith we had to get ready to go to therapy. She was really into her DVD she was watching and didn't want to leave. "I'm not going to go, I'm not going to go," she yelled at the top of her lungs. I struggled to get her out of her chair because she needed to be changed before we left. She cried the whole time I was changing her. Then I attempted to get her back into her chair. She recently learned this new little trick that if she kicks her tone in as hard as she can, she becomes stronger than her mom. It is impossible for me to bend her or even move her when she's like this so I had no other alternative than to lie her on her blue foam mats in her bathroom, shut the door and give her a timeout.

When I went in to get her, she still hadn't completely calmed down. It took everything I had to lift all 45 pounds of her, fight her tone and get her in her chair. This time I learned my own little trick. I locked the wheels in, sat her somewhat in her chair and squeezed her lap belt around her. I couldn't get her feet buckled in but at least she was in her chair - her positioning was probably not therapist-approved but at this point I really didn't care. I couldn't get her coat on so we left that off and away we went.

She cried all the way down the hall, down the elevator and even in the car. When we got to therapy she was so excited to see everyone that she forgot she was mad about not wanting coming in the first place. She told one receptionist that she got a timeout, then went on to tell the other two receptionists all about it. I think she was trying to get sympathy, but they were in more disbelief than anything. When her occupational therapist came out to get her, she had to relate her sad tale all over again.

As soon as Faith left the room, I sank down in a chair, had a much-needed drink of water and thanked the Lord we got through that one.

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