The Hog Days of Summer
Yesterday was not a good day for my little man. Maybe it's because he had some forbidden dairy. Or maybe it was a combination of dairy and the dreaded red dye 40.
Whatever the reason, he was an utter pill, the kind of kid you want to lock in the back yard. And I did, for about two minutes.
First he decided to "ride" the chair across my Pergo floors. When I said no, he ignored me. Then I had to remove him from the chair and put him in time out. After time out, he started riding the chairs again.
The day went along in that vein until around 7:30 p.m. There were many time-outs and more than a few times the neighbors on the other side of the block heard me screeching.
One of the highlights of the day was when he decided to ask me a question he knew the answer to. This is a habit that I have been trying to break him of.
He does this constantly, all day long, asking me questions that he KNOWS the answer to. While I am grateful that he can talk, I do wish he would do a whole lot less of it.
The question he asked me was if his sister was old enough to drive a car. She is ten and he full well knows she isn't.
Instead of saying my usual, "Why did you ask me a question you know the answer to?", I said, "Yes, we are buying her one tomorrow and you can't ride in it."
And the shrieking began.
We were on our way to a socialization program. It is a twenty minute drive. He screamed for over half of it. The screaming had a pattern. It went SCREECH, sob, sob, SCREECH, sob, sob. Little boys can screech REALLY loudly, an ear splitting sound indeed.
A patient mother, a good mother, would have pulled over to the side of the road and calmed her child down. I, however, was a stressed out, had it up to here, mother. So instead, I conducted the orchestra.
With every SCREECH, I raised my hand into the air. Then for the double sob, I gently lifted it two times in a row. So my hand went UUUUUPPPP, then down, and then made a couple of slight waves.
What the fellow drivers thought of me, I'll never know or care.
This only intensified the screeching, as he was now grievously insulted.
It was not my finest parenting moment. Bedtime was half an hour early that evening.
********************
The grocery store could no longer be avoided this Sunday so I got out some pants and a shirt to put on. They didn't fit.
I tried some different clothes. They didn't fit.
Nothing fits anymore except a few, unflattering pairs of drawstring capris. I need to lose weight. The fact of the matter is, I'm GREAT at dieting, until I get hungry.
Working out has fallen by the wayside. First I had a cold. Then I stubbed my toe so hard, I think I broke it. Then I had, and still have, a horrible tendinitis flare-up. Still, I could walk slowly on my treadmill without too much arm pain; I could. But the old saying, "An object at rest tends to remain at rest," is applying here.
I don't feel good. I am fat and tired and look horrible and seem to be disinclined to fix it. Instead I am whining. Oh, that is helpful!
Maybe someday, I hope soon, I will get my act together.
For now, my belly has its own zip code.
Whatever the reason, he was an utter pill, the kind of kid you want to lock in the back yard. And I did, for about two minutes.
First he decided to "ride" the chair across my Pergo floors. When I said no, he ignored me. Then I had to remove him from the chair and put him in time out. After time out, he started riding the chairs again.
The day went along in that vein until around 7:30 p.m. There were many time-outs and more than a few times the neighbors on the other side of the block heard me screeching.
One of the highlights of the day was when he decided to ask me a question he knew the answer to. This is a habit that I have been trying to break him of.
He does this constantly, all day long, asking me questions that he KNOWS the answer to. While I am grateful that he can talk, I do wish he would do a whole lot less of it.
The question he asked me was if his sister was old enough to drive a car. She is ten and he full well knows she isn't.
Instead of saying my usual, "Why did you ask me a question you know the answer to?", I said, "Yes, we are buying her one tomorrow and you can't ride in it."
And the shrieking began.
We were on our way to a socialization program. It is a twenty minute drive. He screamed for over half of it. The screaming had a pattern. It went SCREECH, sob, sob, SCREECH, sob, sob. Little boys can screech REALLY loudly, an ear splitting sound indeed.
A patient mother, a good mother, would have pulled over to the side of the road and calmed her child down. I, however, was a stressed out, had it up to here, mother. So instead, I conducted the orchestra.
With every SCREECH, I raised my hand into the air. Then for the double sob, I gently lifted it two times in a row. So my hand went UUUUUPPPP, then down, and then made a couple of slight waves.
What the fellow drivers thought of me, I'll never know or care.
This only intensified the screeching, as he was now grievously insulted.
It was not my finest parenting moment. Bedtime was half an hour early that evening.
********************
The grocery store could no longer be avoided this Sunday so I got out some pants and a shirt to put on. They didn't fit.
I tried some different clothes. They didn't fit.
Nothing fits anymore except a few, unflattering pairs of drawstring capris. I need to lose weight. The fact of the matter is, I'm GREAT at dieting, until I get hungry.
Working out has fallen by the wayside. First I had a cold. Then I stubbed my toe so hard, I think I broke it. Then I had, and still have, a horrible tendinitis flare-up. Still, I could walk slowly on my treadmill without too much arm pain; I could. But the old saying, "An object at rest tends to remain at rest," is applying here.
I don't feel good. I am fat and tired and look horrible and seem to be disinclined to fix it. Instead I am whining. Oh, that is helpful!
Maybe someday, I hope soon, I will get my act together.
For now, my belly has its own zip code.
posted by Caro at 9:07 AM
7 Comments:
You're just having a rubbish day. Keep your chin up, things will hopefully look better in the morning.
x
Badgerdaddy - Thank you. :-)
Man, what a day. You survived (so did your offspring) and that is good.
On the dieting front, I understand. I don't diet because it doesn't ever work for me, but I did just check out a book from the library called The End of Overeating by David Kessler. It isn't a diet book per se, but talks about how we are cued to eat, and how to prevent or circumvent those cues. I've been pretty successful except for the two days preceding my period, and that is fine with me.
Oh, and yes my husband loves doughnuts. There is a local place that makes really good vegan ones. Yum.
You just made my day with the orchestra scene. :) Sorry if I'm benefiting from your misery. Boy, have I been there though!
Crafty - I'll have to see if my library has that book. Maybe I could find out why I eat when I'm not hungry. I love it that your hub's favorite food really is doughnuts.
Roxanne - It's fine to laugh. I think most mothers would end up in a straitjacket without humor.
You are a fine mother. You didn't kill him for the screeching.
You're allowed to be pissed.
And drink. Isn't that what sending them to bed early is for?
Paula - True I didn't kill him. :) Sometimes I fantasize about a shock collar for every time that screech bursts forth. Not that I would, but still...
Yes, margaritas are good for the soul.
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