This is you having fun at the Play for All Abilities park today.
You were there for all of twenty. But your first ten minutes at the park were a time out for the fit you threw before we even left the house. I know a two minute time out is appropriate for a two year old, but sadly for you, son, the time outs in this family only count when you are compliant and quiet and so your own time outs are frequently much longer. But you settled, had you time out and played for about ten minutes, after which your sister wanted her bike from the car and no amount of explanation that we were going to the car and coming right back convinced you to leave under your own power.
I try to be very positive about you all the time. You are my darling boy and I don't want anyone speaking negatively about you. I have mentioned some of your recent behaviors to my friends and to your grandma, looking for ideas and validation. I was sharing some stories last night with my friends Carol and Jerri and Carol pointed out that I should write some of them down so that one day when you have your own Irish boy with his own Irish temper and you call me wondering what in the world is going on, I can say, "ah, yes, son, you did that... and that... and that... and that, too."
I also feel the need to point out that while your little tantrums may have been a result of frustration with a lack of communication or just feeling overwhelmed by your own emotions back when you started them at twelve or fifteen months, they are certainly something you have control over at this point. The famous airplane, left in the Wells Fargo parking lot is my prime example. You fitted over not being able to reach it from your car seat. You fitted when I told you I would not be able to get it because I was driving. You fitted when I told you that I needed you to stop screaming so I could concentrate on driving. You stopped completely when I pulled the car over, thinking you might get your plane. What you did get was a small swat to your bottom, prompting a new fit. You continued the fit as I put your plane down in the parking lot and wrote out my note. You continued as we drove off. That's when I stopped the car again and pointed out a McDonalds and told you in a low even tone, "If you do not stop right now, I will drive up to that McDonalds and hand your other plane to the lady at the window and tell her to take it home to her little boy." You stopped on a dime. Right that second and did not fuss again the rest of the evening.
You did the same thing Sunday over some goldfish... you wanted them in the bag, I wanted them in the bowl. Before we had a chance to negotiate anything you turned to me and said in a loud ugly voice, "You wrong, Mama!" No goldfish for you and straight to your room. An hour later, you were still screaming and did not stop until I told you that if you could not control yourself, you would not be going to Sea World. You stopped that fit and did not have another one until the end of the day at Sea World.
Among your rough moments at Sea World was your ride in Sabrina's stroller. You wanted to keep pulling the top up and down. Mr. Ford wanted his daughter's stroller to stay nice for as long as possible. He asked you to stop in his nice Mr. Ford way. I told you to stop in my "mama means business" way. You kept your hand on the top of the stroller, not playing with it, but not complying either. I told you to put your hands down. You didn't. I rephrased, "Put your hands in your lap." You did. And then I turned away and you put one hand straight in the air... not messing with the stroller, but showing that you still had the last say. I walked away, your arm got tired, and we all moved on.
Even there, I understood some physical exhaustion was making it hard for you and your dad and I talked you through it, making it clear that you would not get a souvenir if you didn't calm down. You calmed down. You got a souvenir... a shark and a book about sharks. And then you refused to give me the book in the parking lot. You yelled at me. You snatched it away from me. And finally you threw it on the ground. And I got the receipt and the credit card from your dad and returned your souvenirs. No worries, though. You happily played with your sister the whole way home... she with her souvenir Shamu whale, you with your invisible alligator that I suspect you fake shoplifted.
You do that a lot. Obey... sort of. When I sent you to your room for a nap on Sunday, I told you to get in bed. You fitted for a while and then settled down. I went to see if you were asleep and found you laying on your pillow, with your blanket... on the floor. When I tried video taping you, since one friend suggested that if you saw what you look like you might reconsider the fits. I videoed. I showed them to you later, when you had calmed down. I asked you if you liked what you looked like. You said, "yes." I said, "But that doesn't look like my sweet boy" and you said, "yes it do!"
Last night, while I was visiting with Carol and Jerri, you were in your room. I let you have a movie since I wasn't available to settle you into sleep with books or a nighttime chat. We thought you were asleep until we heard the triumphant cry, "I got the lock off! I got the lock off! I got the lock off!" and you came running in with the childproof lock in two parts, in your hands. You actually took the pieces over to the trash can, looked at me and said, "I throw these away?"
Um, no.
Mostly, I look at all of this and think about how smart you are, how determined, how focused and driven. On the day of the goldfish fit, you fitted for an hour and slept for two and still woke up asking for goldfish... in a bag not a bowl. You just don't give up. These are all going to be wonderful traits that will help you to be very successful in life. I also see the connection between independence and defiance. I also know as a Kindergarten teacher what happens when you don't adequately teach the difference in the preschool years.
I want you to have cool toys. I want you to have exciting adventures.
I want you to be obedient more.
So if you look back at this blog and your sisters you will notice that she played more, got more treats, and right now, if you could look in your rooms, you would see hers is full of toys and yours has almost nothing except a sticker chart showing you how many more "no fit" days it will be until you get your toys back (six at last count). It's not fair. I see that. But what I see being unfair is that you got your mother's Irish temper and your sister did not and so you are just going to have to work harder in life to keep your emotions in check. That's the part that's not fair. That I love your sister enough to help her learn little things like empathy and gratitude and I love you enough to help you learn things like self-control and how to channel anger into productive outlets. Well, that's 100% fair.
Love,
Mom
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