Living the theory

Tiny really hates brushing his teeth. He has a number of sensory aversions, and we think this is one of them. His reactions have ranged from refusal, ignoring, throwing the toothbrush across the room and brushing everything but his teeth with it, to his current instinct to gag every time the toothbrush comes close to his mouth. Today he gagged to the point of actually being sick. Only a little bit, but still… he really hates cleaning his teeth. We’ve tried so many different things. Manual toothbrushes and electric toothbrushes. Minty toothpaste, fruity toothpaste, no toothpaste. Doing it for him and encouraging him to do it himself. Acknowledging his aversion to it and doing it together. Leaving him to it. The promise of rewards, or warnings of no sweets. Nothing has worked for more than a few weeks at a time, if that. I found myself researching alternative methods of teeth cleaning on the way into work today (someone must have invented something you just swill round your ...

Little does not want to do her reading practice. It's boring, apparently. She flounces up the stairs, flinging her reading book around. By the time I get to her room she's hiding under the duvet. I sit down on the bed and attempt to empathise with how horrible it must be to have to do something so boring, and promise some fun afterwards. She kicks me. I ask her to stop; she doesn't. I retreat to my bedroom, and let her know where to find me when she's ready. She follows me to the bedroom. I attempt to use humour to snap her out of it and point out she's got some cheese from dinner stuck to her cardigan. I pick it off and feed it to the cat, who's asleep on the bed. She hits the cat. I ask her not to. She hits the cat again. I pick the cat up and call my wife to come and remove her.* While we're waiting for her to come upstairs, Little continues to hit my legs and pull the cat's tail. Once the cat is out of the equation I offer Little a hug. She declin...