bad day, mommyhood, tantrums, terrible threes

Oh Smack!

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I had this crazy idea that I would take the boys for haircuts. They have been rocking the mohawk look and it’s amazing how quickly it grew out. My plan was to pick Full Speed up from school and take both boys directly to the children’s salon. It is a pretty fantastic set-up. There’s a foosball table, an indoor climbing structure with a slide and an endless array of cool vehicles to sit in and watch Nickelodeon while getting your hair trimmed. They had a splendid time. I played foosball with Full Speed who insisted he was winning no matter how many times I scored. “That one didn’t count, Mom, only mine did,” (of course). Little T.Puzzle took to the slide like a fish to water (more fish similies later; I know you can’t wait but don’t get your gills in a tangle). They both did great for their trim and I was feeling really glad to have it done. Haircuts usually eat into our precious, weekend family time and I had just saved us the hassle. Win, win for sure.

Until,… it was time to leave. Little T.Puzzle absolutely refuses to leave and makes a scramble for the back of the slide structure. He is just about out of reach when I manage to grab his leg. He immediately starts screaming. Full Speed tries to help and yanks on the other leg. Full Speed accidentally tugs off little T.Puzzle’s croc in this muddled process. I see that this is a hot-button for T.Puzzle because he is really starting to lose it. As I manage to wrestle him into my arms (and by now, a crowd of sorts has gathered to watch the show), little T.Puzzle throws his arm back and smacks me squarely on the face.

I take him outside and all hell breaks loose. He’s screaming so loud I can’t think straight. I try to maneuver him to a time-out spot and quickly realize that he is violently flopping about like a dying fish so I can’t. I scoop him up and head to the truck. I grab his other croc from his foot and say he can’t have them back because he slapped me.

He is inconsolable. He cries and yells the whole way home. He is so upset he almost makes himself vomit. I get him home, send him to his room and try to regroup.

This is all stuff I’ve seen before. This isn’t the first time I’ve been smacked by one of my sons (hopefully it’s the last) and this isn’t the first outrageous tantrum I’ve endured.

But seriously, isn’t it enough already?

children, mommyhood, terrible threes

Certainly

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Death and taxes are the only certainties in life, right? I would like to amend this list to include time-outs (at least temporarily).

Frustration originates from wishing something inevitable could be different. I have to change my frame of mind. I have to start each morning and realize that yes, little T.Puzzle  will assert his independence throughout the day and yes, he will have to be in time-out. If I come to expect it like the other parts of our day such as lunch and quiet time, then it won’t seem nearly as aggravating. At least I hope so because I’ll give you three guesses who started their day in time-out. And we hadn’t even cracked 9 am.

children, gratitude, mommyhood

The Trade-Off

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After the incident I had with little T.Puzzle at Target last week, let’s just say I was less than enthusiastic about spending another whole day alone with the little instigator. I had some stuff to do around the house and then I planned to take him on a bike ride to the park. I had zero plans to take him to a public place, especially since I’m certain we are now on Target’s ‘watch list’. One look at us and the employees of Target would swiftly escort off the premises.

little Frick looks for frogs at our neighborhood nature spot

He actually was pretty good. He made a friend at the park which always helps. They were roughly the same age. It was fascinating to watch little T.Puzzle establish boundaries with this kid. He is so used to be pummeled and harassed by his big brother Full Speed, that he is always on high alert. If his new friend so much as tapped his back, little T.Puzzle looked like he was going to bring on a full assault. He quickly learned that this new kid was harmless and his Mom and I watched in delight as they ran circles around the park and each other. We were hopeful this was setting the stage for great naps for both.

When it was time to leave, which is my least favorite part of doing pretty much anything with little T.Puzzle, he refused to put his helmet on. He was so adamant about this that while he was arguing with me (and I wasn’t arguing back), I quietly placed him in his seat, strapped him down and started home. So, he didn’t have his helmet on for the five blocks home but I did get him back in his seat without him trying to karate chop my head off. Not a bad trade-off I suppose.

children, mommyhood

That’s the Spirit (Part Two)

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Over the weekend Mad Dog and I hosted my book club. They are a great group of women and it was fun to socialize outside of the club.

One particular member of my book club reads my blog every day (you know who you are!). She also has two grown sons. She relates to the joys and challenges of raising boys. It’s nice for me to know someone like her who has survived mothering two boys and is a happy, well-adjusted adult (there’s hope for me).

So, when she suggested I read a book about ‘spirited children’ I wasn’t surprised. It actually made quite a lot of sense. I have since picked up the book and honestly, it’s like reading a biography of my parenting life. Not all of it applies but there are certain aspects that describe my boys to a T. I love when something you read validates your experience. It makes the world feel less lonely and much more welcoming.

The whole point of my blog is to find the humor and the common ground we all share. If my blog can do that, then I can do anything. Maybe even parent a ‘spirited’ child or two along the way.

Maybe…

children, mommyhood, terrible threes

Oh ‘No’ !

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So, yesterday little T.Puzzle refused to his eat pancakes. And, today he was all about the pancakes and wouldn’t eat his strawberries. I don’t understand. He normally loves strawberries, too.

If the word ‘no’ had never been invented, would raising a strong-willed child be easier?

I have lived it before (you all know Full Speed, right?) and apparently I am worse for the wear.

That’s why when someone asks me if I want to have more children the word ‘no’ launches from my mouth quicker than little T.Puzzle can bite someone (that’s faster than lightning).

Maybe I’m glad ‘no’ exists after all.