The Wrath of KID

So it’s just me and the monkey for a few days. My husband is away at some sort of conference. I’m still not sure what he does at these “conferences.” All I know is that while he’s gone somewhere in Tennessee, it is just me and my son.

And today, of all days, he decided to be a two-year-old. Granted, he’s been two for about a week and a half, but today his reign as resident tantrum thrower seems to have begun.

Up until this point he’s been a fairly awesome kid. He doesn’t scream when we go to stores or out to eat. He is friendly to everyone and LOVES to talk to anyone who’ll listen. He snuggles with me each night on the couch. Even my friends who don’t have kids think mine is generally a delight (at least when he’s not stealing their attention at Super Bowl parties).

He was in rare form this morning though. It all started because he didn’t want to get up. Now, this part I really sympathize with. This whole time change has me all in a tizzy and not sleeping well. Usually I get about 7 hours of sleep each night. The last two nights I’ve barely gotten 6. So I can see how upsetting it is for him to only get 10 hours of sleep. But we must soldier on, so I got him up. Or I tried to. He curled into a ball and whined, “sleep…night-night…crib…” I tried to console him with rocking, but the second I stopped, he demanded more. And a story. I sighed, but read a Corduroy book.

Getting him dressed was an ordeal. I tried bribing him with Curious George socks. I thought it was going to work. He seemed excited. Until I tried to take his jammies off. Then he rolled over, making it nearly impossible to unzip said jammies. I know he’s little, but it is amazing how he can throw those 30 pounds around. He is willful and strong.

I finally got him dressed, but he was not to be tamed. He didn’t want regular shoes because they would hide his socks. So, we had to find his SpongeBob Crocs (to my knowledge he’s never seen the show, but he loves the shoes). After five minutes of searching, I found them, but he was already in his little ball pit, throwing balls everywhere. I struggled to get him in his jacket and Crocs. I carried him squirming to the car.

When we got there, I realized he still had a ball from the pit. He refused to give it up. Then he started crying for his blanky and lamby. I offered them in exchange for the ball, but no dice. He had a vice grip on that ball and no amount of cajoling was unwrapping his fingers. I was already ten minutes late (well, later than usual), so I gave in and retrieved the lamb and the blanket.

Once he had them, he was calm for about 10 minutes. Then he wanted me to sing. He got frustrated because I couldn’t understand which song he wanted me to sing, but calmed when I started singing the Lamby song. We made it to the sitter’s without further incident, but about 12 minutes off schedule.

Inside he refused to take his shoes and coat off. I finally got them off and asked for a hug and a kiss. He was happy to give them to me, however, once he had a hold of my neck, he did not want to let go. He wasn’t crying. He was perfectly good natured, but his grip tightened and I was caught. Five or ten minutes later, I managed to free myself and head for the door. At that point he turned his back, said bye and I made it out.

I got to work 20 minutes later than usual, wolfed down my cereal (I can’t eat first thing in the morning–besides, it would mean I’d have to get up even earlier) and had just enough time to clean the bowl out before my first period class showed up.

This evening I have met with cries, screams, gnashing of teeth and a myriad of other toddler expressions of anger to numerous to recount. I did get him to eat most of his dinner. I’ve also finally calmed him down, but only because I popped in a Thomas DVD. I’m not much for children watching TV, but today, I think it might save both of us.

I can only imagine the struggle that awaits me when I try to get him in the bath tonight.

KIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

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Filed under bad days, life as a teacher, motherhood, my son, ramblings, what makes me me

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