Today I had Rayne help me put some things together for our "not School." She did a great job and even had fun doing it. Then she started to play in it. It was just salt in pencil boxes to use for writing practice and maybe some calming activities. Pretty soon she was throwing it around the kitchen. She's been so bored and having such a hard time lately, I let her go. It was just salt, the cheapest kind at that. Then, she threw it at me. I told her not to. She played for a while, concentrating a lot on pushing it into piles and making designs on the kitchen floor. Ah, good... oops, don't breathe yet because she's throwing it again! Then she came up and put a big handful right down my shirt.
Yes, salt filled my bra and stuck to my sweaty skin. UGH!!!!!! And the more I told her to stop, the more she kept it going and took it to the next level. In trying to not "let her win" I pulled out the broom and started sweeping. She started screaming and hitting me so I let her take the broom and I got the vacuum. So she screamed louder and hit harder and I had to really get after her to stop. Eventually we came to terms a bit and I tried to explain that I needed some privacy to change my shirt and calm down. I had to push her out of the bathroom, lock the door, and she stood there screaming like she was being beaten.
I was so frustrated!
This is my Rayne.