[QUOTE=DianaG]
Speaking as the mom of a teenager, it’s less that they destroy your prized posessions (which, after all, most of us are careful with) than that they do daily damage to everything in your damned house.
I can’t think of any one thing that my daughter absolutely destroyed, but just within the past few months, she’s spilled candle wax all over the floor, left nail-polish-remover-soaked cotton balls on the kitchen table, and thrown a sweatshirt into the washing machine with a lipstick in the pocket. :smack: They’re just *incredibly * thoughtless.
[/QUOTE]
This is my take on it - then again, I don’t have many “prized posessions” within reach other than occasionally some fine china which, while expensive, is nice but not irreplaceable. I can’t speak to teenagers, but my toddler does destroy things on purpose just to push my buttons. It doesn’t happen very often - when he’s ticked, he’d rather just scream randomly.
So it’s not so much that he destroys things but that he destroys things deliberately, carefully selecting those items that you wanted to use, read, etc. because he knows that’ll really piss you off. Unfortunately, at 2, “punishment” such as timeouts are relatively meaningless. Not that you just have to take it, but with my son, any punishment will be mostly revenge on my part, which is completely inappropriate.
A great example happened over the weekend. Our son was mad at us for cutting his hair. He loves being held, loves being kissed and hugged, but he loathes having his head and face held still. Unfortunately, unless you don’t mind nicking him, confining him is a necessity. He let me know exactly how he fet about that when afterward I was telling him what a great job he did (and it was true for the most part) when he picked up my husband’s partially-read magazine which he looks forward to every week and, ensuring that I was watching him all the while, proceeded to calmly tear the page my husband was reading in half. I caught his hand just as he started, but he quickly finished the job. Toddlers being slippery little buggers, he twisted out of my lap and ran across the room, gleefully shredding the magazine until I caught up with him. I was livid.