I’m about to snap.
All I want to do is this:
Top 10 Reasons I Am About To Channel Franka Potente in Run Lola Run
10. The cedar pollen. We are blessed to live in a area where it shoots past “high” and “very high” into the “are frakking kidding me?” territory.
9. After two hours at the park yesterday – an awesome time with the tiny infinitesimal exception of my nose running faster than Lola – I wanted to take an antihistamine because of #10. Then I read the fine print: If breast feeding, not recommended.
8. Within the last few weeks, The Tackler has progressed from his WWF wrestling ways into the Ultimate Fighting Challenge category: for some inexplicable reason, he thinks shoving, grabbing, and hitting are acceptable ways to play with another child. As the oldest, he doesn’t get wailed on from a sibling – he’s only in danger of being drooled and hugged to death. Toy Story, Mickey Mouse’s Clubhouse, and Chuggington do not have boxing matches in them. The only influence I can think of is watching older kids play at childcare while they were out of school for the holidays.
7. Thanks to #8, The Tackler has had multiple warnings at my gym’s childcare. He has been Written Up and Kicked Out For the Rest of the Day. Before this, roughhousing incidents were small and most were directed at his baby sister. To try to keep it from escalating further, both positive and negative reinforcements were put into place. Positive: candy or computer game reward if he was a good boy all morning. Negative: push/hit/tackle/fight with another child and All Toys Are Taken Away. Every time he was mean to his sister, he was separated from her and sent to his room because he couldn’t play nice – instead the old fall back of Time Out. Good behavior toward her and others was praised and rewarded. I did everything I could think of.
6. Today the proverbial Steaming Pile of Crap Hit the Wind Tunnel Fan: he shoved and then punched two separate children at child care – the first time I have ever heard of him doing such a thing (and never having seen him use his fists before). He is now Banned For Three Days from the childcare.
5. Reason #6 went down with fifteen minutes left in my favorite Zumba class – forcing me to miss burning the extra 150 calories (every bit was needed after holiday indulgence and two weeks not exercising thanks to Sickmas). I was nasty and sweaty. I hauled the Tackler into the family locker room to grab a very necessary shower. Surprisingly this venture was successful – he did not move from the bench or unlock the door and flee once – and it proved the silver lining to having your toddler severely misbehave: they know you are so pissed off, they uncharacteristically listen and obey your every dictate.
4. Thanks to The Banning my instrument of stress relief – my gym classes and hot shower before 8 PM – are now ripped from me. It has brought forth a long hidden vindictive side that scares the crap out of me. With The Tackler’s toys already taken away (per consequences in reason #7), I catch myself brainstorming other ways to Get Back At Him. I want to take my children to a bouncy place, and force him to sit at my side while his sister and all the other kids run amok happily playing. I want to put on his favorite movie at top volume, but have him remain in his room unable to view it. I want to eat his favorite foods in front of him and give him vegetables and gruel. I want him to know what it feels like to have something you love and look forward to be cruelly snatched away. These are not motherly, caring feelings. These are my inner repressed tween fighting to get even.
3. The Bannings Get Worse. First, it was for the day. Now, it’s for three days. If The Tacker goes Jackie Chan again, it will be for a week. Then two weeks. Then….. I don’t even know. I don’t think anyone has made it past then. Unless I come up with either A) the cause behind The Tackler’s “play” techniques or B) find a way to fix it so he’s back to the sweet boy who never hurt anybody (outside of the tackle or sibling rivalry) – I’m royally screwed.
2. Did I mention – no hot showers before 8 PM? No cathartic dance classes. No way to justify my snack indulgences or lose the extra few pounds I gained over the holidays. No two hour respite from being a stay at home mommy so I can miss my kids, recharge The Patience Meter, and retain the minuscule part of my sanity that remains.
1. I am left with an Impossible Situation: how do I still let Lil Diva have her toys, let her play at the park, and take her fun places without rewarding The Tackler (who doesn’t mind playing with her toys)? How do I fix this so we can go back to having fun as a family? How do I get my sweet boy back who hated to see another child upset, much less be the instrument of their torture?
How do I keep my boy from being The Bully?
Is this a phase? If it is, how long will it last?
What the heck am I supposed to do now?
If anyone has any helpful hints, ideas, or boot camp enrollment for almost four year olds….. well, I’m open to suggestions.
Meanwhile, I’m going to lock myself in my room and do this…