Seriously. I've felt ten new gray hairs sprout out of my head in just the last two weeks and I know my crow's feet are a millimeter deeper than when I started out this year. And it's all because my youngest child, my J-man, my once angelic little boy
Ask the same question over and over until Mama rips chunks of hair out of her head? Check.
Stomp feet in a temper tantrum and scream at such a high frequency that the glassware breaks? Check.
Steal siblings' toys on purpose so they will pay attention to him, thereby causing more high-frequency screaming from all three kids? Check.
Fuss and cry over every. Imagined. Infraction? Check.
Do everything in opposition of parents? Check.
I'm exhausted with correcting him over and over and over and over and... you get the idea. Nothing is working. Saying J-man, don't lick the table in varying tones and loudness with added threats of time-outs or spankings isn't working. Asking J-man, why are you taking your sister's toys? and coupling that with making him give the toy back with an apology is falling flat on its face.
And I? Am knackered at the thought that I've been dealing with this for two weeks and that I've probably got another two years of this ahead of me. So, I've decided that if he won't listen to me? Then maybe actions will speak louder than words.
Instead of sitting properly at the kitchen table, showing my children through my actions how one is supposed to eat a meal, I'm just going to do what they do. I'll prop my feet up, chew with my mouth open, smear my marinara sauce on every horizontal surface, and chew on the edge of the table.
Rather than allowing my children to sit quietly and play? I'm going to snatch their toys from them one by one and run away. Far away. Like up the street away and much too quickly for them to catch me. And then I'll just rip their books to shreds for shits and giggles.
While they're watching a movie? I will ask them incessantly What are you watching? What are you watching? What are you watchinggggggg?????? until all three of their cute little heads explode.
Doesn't it stand to reason that if I act like a total douchebag, that in doing the opposite of what I do they'll actually behave? Don't you think that will work?
Because if it doesn't, I may end up writing this blog from inside a padded cell.
9 comments:
Paddycake didn't have a terrible twos but the fours have been sheer hell! I feel your pain. Have you read Rosemond's Making The Terrible Two's Terrific? It's excellent. Or Dr. Dobson's The Strong Willed Child? You may not need Strong Willed yet, that is what we are dealing with.
Hang in there.
I hear you man. I got one of those. Maybe we should trade - ship them around the world to each other - maybe it would scare them straight. Or maybe they would get lost in transit and be raised by tribesmen in Borneo. Either way.
I hate to laugh at your pain, but damn - I've been there!!!
I remember my niece asking me repeatedly, "Where's Shammy [my cat]?", and I kept answering, "He's outside", but she kept asking, anyway. Finally, I said, "He's outside, eating birds", and she shut the eff up! My mom was horrified, but it got her to stop asking.
Giving kids some random weird information sometimes works for the questions. Ignoring my daughters' one tantrum worked like a champ. Other than that, I have no advice.
But I will so send you smokes for your padded cell!
Hang in there!
It is posts like this that make me so very glad I don't have kids. I don't know that I could ever see past the bad behavior and limits-testing to the good stuff underneath -- like the sleepy cuddles and the I-love-you-Moms. I'd probable take A Free Man up on his offer and PRAY they ended up in Borneo.
It's definitely the padded cell for you. My sympathies, though. See you there!
Chris took my idea. Can I throw my kids into the mix? Though they may end up teaching each other how to whine and piss and moan even more. Gah.
Heather, that was hilarious. I even had the wife come read it. She said she was right there with you. :)
It must be youngest child syndrome. My little guy is the same way. It's getting a little better with age - he's 3 1/2 now. Some days though...it's a good thing he's cute and gives reaaaallly good hugs...otherwise he wouldn't live to see 4.
Lots of thin mints and a glass of wine - although not together. This too will pass.
Right now I'm thankful I have dogs. ;)
Post a Comment