Spitting

As I put Emma on the bus this morning, the bus matron said, “No spitting today!”
“Has she spit?” I asked.
“Yes! Yesterday, the whole ride she was spitting,” both the driver and matron confirmed.
“Emma,” I said standing in the stairwell of the bus, “you may NOT spit. Do you understand?”
“Okay,” Emma said softly.
“If she spits again, let me know right away,” I told the driver. “And if you’re right near her when she spits, put your hand up in a halt position, like this,” I said demonstrating, “Then say, “No! No spitting!” in a stern, but calm voice.
“Alright,” the matron said. “Thank you so much.”
As I went into our building I wondered if I would be receiving a phone call in the next 15 minutes. Sure enough, 10 minutes later my phone rang.
“She just spit at the driver,” the matron announced. “Here, she can hear you.”
“Emma! This is NOT okay. You cannot spit. Do you understand me?”
“Okay,” Emma whispered.
I hung up the phone and sat down. Emma has been doing exceptionally well at home. She is sleeping in her own bed, going to the bathroom in the middle of the night when she needs to, going back to her own bed. In addition she does not take her blanket out of her room, carefully puts it in her “Cokie Pouch” before leaving her room, doesn’t suck her thumb outside her bedroom and the few times she has, immediately stopped when reminded.
That she continues to test the waters outside of our home is something that isn’t altogether surprising. The problem is coming up with solutions to ensure she not continue unacceptable behaviors outside our home.
“You know if we tell her she can’t have a cupcake when she gets home, she’ll stop,” Richard said to me when I discussed the bus episode with him.
“Yeah, I know. I think that’s what we’re going to have to do,” I said.

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