This morning, as Sass in no uncertain terms told me in his
snottiest little boy voice that HE was going to watch TV and then have
breakfast AFTER Sprinkles, my switch flipped. You know, the one that lets you go from 0 to Vesuvius in 2.5....
Who was this tiny blonde dictator marching around the house every morning telling anyone and everything when to jump and how high? Who was he to pull emotional strings and tell me that “I don't want you! I want Daddy!”? Had some fire-eyed creature crawled up from the smoky, black depths to possess my sweet baby boy? Was Sass starting to exhibit the early warning signs of a severe psychosis? (Because OHMAHGAH there are no less than two nasty tempered old men and a wolverine with anger management issues living in that boy’s head right now.)
Like this but with more PAIN...
Who was this tiny blonde dictator marching around the house every morning telling anyone and everything when to jump and how high? Who was he to pull emotional strings and tell me that “I don't want you! I want Daddy!”? Had some fire-eyed creature crawled up from the smoky, black depths to possess my sweet baby boy? Was Sass starting to exhibit the early warning signs of a severe psychosis? (Because OHMAHGAH there are no less than two nasty tempered old men and a wolverine with anger management issues living in that boy’s head right now.)
I stopped…. On the verge of a ohholyhellacious full-scale
Mommy meltdown (Really? Before my
coffee?)… and just looked at him. He
stood there glaring at me, little brow furrowed, legs braced and arms crossed, ready for a fight. The product
of a lawyer and an unlicensed (but incredibly competent) shit talker (a.k.a
Mom). I deflated a bit. What was I to expect? The boy is a tough, very opinionated cookie
and comes from a long line of tough, opinionated cookies. He is a confection of indefatigable sass. Now, that doesn't mean he gets to be a little Napolean allthedamntime but, as I considered him standing there, battle ready, I
felt no small amount of pride. And also realized
I needed to change tactics.
“Fine.” I said calmly. “I am only going to make breakfast now. If you don't want to eat it, I’m not going to
make you.”
“No
Mommy. Daddy will make my breakfast.”
* pout and stomp *
“Nope. Daddy isn't cooking breakfast today. If you want to eat you need to come sit at
the table with your sister.”
Cut to 5 minutes later and Sass is sitting at the table quietly tearing into a fried egg and banana. Okay, so I sorta won this round but I can see
some losses looming on the horizon. At
least I still have Sprinkles' support, right? She sat there the entire time, happily shoving eggs into her mouth while
smiling broadly and occasionally waving at me.
That’s right… the baby likes me… for now….
Well played..well played...like a mom of 20 years with 7 kids...kids are always testing the envelope....it's always good to give them something to bang up against so they know you really are the one in control(most of the time).....I know it sounds crazy but it's those little victories now that make parenting later a little less "challenging" sort of...
ReplyDeleteDo they ever really know how close they came to just having their heads banged? :)
DeleteThat was my day yesterday! Just enjoy the win. Keep a running tally somewhere: Mom 1, Sass 0.
ReplyDeleteWhoot! Let's all cheer for the Home team! :)
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