Alternatives

Alex loves taking toys apart.  Usually it's because he wants to see how they work, and usually it isn't an issue because we can put them back together.  But not lately.  Lately the taking apart has turned into straight destruction.

He bought an awesome remote control car with the money he earned from the lemonade stand and a gift card he received for his birthday.  It was about $30.  Way more than I would ever spend on a remote control vehicle outside of birthday or Christmas presents.  But it was what he wanted and it was his money, so that's what he got.  And it was great! ... For about a day and a half.

We got it all set up and calibrated, and he took it outside to play.  I warned him the instructions said to avoid grass and gravel.  He did great with that, but came back in holding one side view mirror and the rear spoiler in his hand.  Apparently those break off when your buddy tries to throw a ball at the car while you're driving it.  Who knew, right?!  So, we had another discussion about being careful with the car and how much money it cost.

The next day, he had it in the playroom and I walked through to see he had removed all four tires.  S.O.P. for Alex.  I shook my head and said, "Ya know what?  It's your money."  Dumb dumb dumb Mama.  Later that evening I found him holding the car by the wire that transmits the remote signal (which he had pulled from the car), while two of his buddies whacked the car with plastic golf clubs.  I frustratedly asked just what he thought he was doing and was answered with, "Well, it is my money."  My face almost exploded with rage, but instead I walked away and waited for the eventual fit when the car no longer worked.

That fit was delayed a bit because he and his buddies decided the plastic golf clubs weren't the proper tools for the job, so they graduated to pillow armor for body protection while they smashed the car with an aluminum baseball bat.  Yeah.  That happened.

That night, the regret sank in for Mr. Alex.  He started crying that he wanted a new one and I said no and that he wasn't going to get any new toys until he could show me that he can treat our current toys and belongings with respect.  I didn't yell, I didn't take away other privileges, I didn't make him sit in his room.  Just treat current toys with respect.

That was kinda working.  More working than not, but still needing reminders.  Until yesterday.

We were having a great day until I noticed two blue gems on the kitchen table.  I asked where they came from, and Alex sheepishly told him he pulled them out of a sun catcher he made for me for Mothers' Day last year.  Yep.  For no discernible reason, he plucked two of the gems from a gift he made for me.  When he saw how upset I was, he quickly assured me he could make a new one.  I told him I didn't want a new one, I wanted that one.  It was mine and he ruined it.  My feelings were hurt and I didn't want to talk about it anymore.

I had just finished making lunch so we sat down to eat through quivering chins.  He looked up with tears in his eyes, and told me he knew what he should lose as a consequence for ruining my sun catcher.  And I said no.  I told him he wasn't losing anything because that clearly doesn't make a difference for him.  Nothing was being taken away, but he was gaining something.  He now got my disappointment in the choice he made.  That opened the waterworks floodgate, and we had a tear stained lunch.

I think I solidly earned the Guilt Trip badge of motherhood with that one.

We moved on from that and everything was going smoothly.  Then Sam came up to tattle that Alex pushed him.  Alex quickly said, "Weeeeeeeell, I didn't push him...I just kinda shook him a little."  So I replied, "Weeeeeeeeeeeell, put on your shoes and run three laps around the house."  He just stood there blankly looking at me, so I repeated myself, and sent him outside.

A new day of consequences is dawning in the Julius house.