Sig. Line of the Week: "What if Bill Gates had a dime for every time a Windows machine crashed...oh, wait, he already does."

Watching: The West Wing, which we taped last night. This one was lighter in tone than usual, a more playful outing than the previous two weeks' episodes, certainly. It was rather fun, but marred by a silly little bit toward the end.

Practicing Patience

On our drive to Daniel's school this morning, Stephen was in a crabby mood. He is usually a pretty easygoing little guy, but today he was uncharacteristically high-strung and whiny. Every remark made by me or his brothers provoked an outburst of "No! Daniel, be quiet! Stop bothering me, Matthew!"

As I've mentioned before, I have trouble dealing with Stephen when he's in that kind of mood. It is particularly hard to cope with a grouchy Stephen when we are in the car; at home I can at least send him to his room to cool off. When he's in one of his obnoxious phases during our long commutes, the usual pattern is this: I tell him to stop hollering at his brothers and me; he stops momentarily, but then his brothers annoy him about something and he yells some more; I raise my voice; he yells again; I end up screaming at him; and he yells and cries. It is a kind of feedback loop and a singularly ineffective parenting technique on my part, but one I found myself repeating.

Until today, when I decided I'm sick of it. I know that Matthew and Daniel are part of the problem when Stephen is in one of those moods; both intentionally and unintentionally they tend to provoke him. When Stephen started acting up this morning, I decided to involve Matthew and Daniel in a game of "I Spy" in the car. They love guessing games, and I figured they would be too busy to try to annoy Stephen further.

Stephen whined and fussed throughout most of the ride, but instead of yelling back at him, I ignored it. Periodically, I invited him to join in the game, but he refused. Whenever we stopped at a red light, I'd reach back to the middle seat and hold his hand. He'd clutch my hand tightly in his little one. It seemed to calm him, and throughout the ride his outbursts diminished and then stopped altogether.

When we got to Daniel's school, I opened the sliding door of the minivan and leaned in and hugged him. He sobbed out the last of his tears, and then started cheering up.

I think Stephen really doesn't want to be grouchy. There are some people who almost seem to enjoy wallowing in a bad mood; Matthew is such a one, but not Stephen. It is against his usual sunny nature, and he knows it. Being grouchy makes him feel terrible, if you know what I mean.

It felt good and right to me to handle Stephen's irritability this way. It required patience--a lot more than I usually have early in the morning--not to mention the effort involved in keeping his brothers occupied so they wouldn't provoke him further.

But it was worth it.

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