Time Out

I personally do not consider myself time out happy. But there are a few things -- e.g., biting, hitting, scratching, kicking, pushing -- that I can't abide. And so it was for one of these things, I can't really remember which, that Mason found himself on the receiving end of time out. As a matter of fact, all we had to say was, "Go to time out." And over to the corner he walked. Then he struck this pose.

I obviously thought it was a scream so I photographed him. This is actually a pretty common pose for him. Usually he strikes it when he's a little perturbed with one of us. He'll do it at Costco (that always draws a little crowd), at the gym, in parking lots, and of course at home. Another look we get from him is the "Ican'twaittomoveawayfromhome" look. Honestly. He just looks at us and grunts, rolls his eyes, and walks away. You'd think he was 14.


This was just the start for Mason on this particular day. In fact, he was such a pouter and a crier that by the time he went to bed I decided that a little tough love was in order. So, put him down in his crib. He started his wailing. And he didn't stop. I was right out side the door and was listening for anything unusual. But he kept on crying for 45 minutes. I know what you're thinking. But I had just been told by my pediatrician that because I baby him and pamper him I was teaching him to cry longer and longer because I always, eventually go in and try to settle him down.


For some reason I decided I was going to break with tradition. After a while Steve came wandering upstairs to see why Mason was still crying. I sent him in. He found that Mason had pulled his pajama top over his head and couldn't get free. As soon as he righted him he zonked out. Enough tough love for me. I always end up feeling like a bad parent.

PHOTO NOTE: Some more pictures of Mason waking up after pulling his own pajamas off. Such a stripper!