Tonight I was putting Noah through a purposeful painful ritual that i'll call TOE NAIL CLIPPING, I know, right? Send that mother to time out right now!
It's a sensory issue for him, overly sensitive toes, feet, something like that. I just tell myself it must feel like intense pins and needles.
He thrashes and screams and fights me and pushes me away. But, before his toenails grow down and back into his foot, I have to clip them.
Picture, if you will, a blacksmith holding a horses hoof between his legs facing backward. I do the same with Noah, basically.
After one good clipping he screamed, "GET OFF!"
And I looked at Marc and he looked back at me and he asked if that was what I thought it was and I said that it was.
So I looked at Noah, directly in the eyes and told him that I would stop because he asked me to.
** This is his first "request" and "demand" and it was appropriate and spontaneous.
Woo Hoo! Success.
Not success: the other 9 toenails still in need of attention.