nap out of it already

March 5, 2012

leg drums

Last weekend was a delight. This means that by laws written forth in the International Children's Manual this weekend was complete and utter hair-tearing bullshittery, doomed from the very start to be awful and terrible.

"Let no period of awesomeness go unbalanced by periods of hysterical tantrums and/or general grouchiness." - Intl Chillin's Manual: Behavior Code division 2, chapter 3

Here are the games "we" played all weekend, in our fine fine free family time: destroy stuff, run around and destroy stuff, throw things, and my personal favorite– punching things and/or your mother. I CAN'T IMAGINE WHY I'M FRUSTRATED CAN YOU.

His behavior is completely normal for someone exactly 2.5, and I know that, and yet I still wanted to throw him out a window at several points, something it pains me to admit because I don't like to be a complainer. I like being a mom, I like it very much, and I think my kid is the coolest and in a week this phase will end and everything will go back to kittens and flower babies, BUT RIGHT NOW I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU ANYMORE. Get your shit together and report back when you're human.

Of course I'm an adult so I say and do none of the above. I patiently encourage and chastise and redirect and finally even, yes, YELL– all of which has no effect whatsoever because my child is exactly like me and does not give a shit on a stick about what anyone else has to say about anything, ever.

Dear every parenting "technique" in the book: My kid does not care about you. FIGHT THE POWER.

We're all entitled to be a butthole sometimes. Fact: butthole time happens. It happens to me, it happens to you, and sure, why not, it can happen to a kid. So. There. We've filled March's butthole quota already, now snap out of it. (I first typed that as 'nap out of it' which would also be an acceptable solution in case you're taking notes.)

Today is a new day. I can brainstorm new activities to keep us busy, better ways to wiggle out our energy, more patient ways to disperse battles. I can stop and think and realize that everyone is entitled to some butthole time. I can clear my head and come back ready to do better with recharged patience stores. I can repeat: in a week this phase will end. Over. And over. And over. And it's true! It is, it always does! Light! Hope! Sunshine! Regular games that don't involved punching explosions– they'll happen again!

–Now if someone would just remember to give him that same damn memo that would be super because it's like Butthole Time Groundhog Day over here.

Can I get an amen? BUTTHOLE AMEN.

cute and evil

{Updated to add that now, a day later, he is being a cutie pie honey bunch which ALWAYS HAPPENS. Hey. Whatever. I'm not going to look a gift horse inside its earholes. Toddlers! It's like they're small and crazy or something, you know, geeeeeze.}

{And now I hate that this is just sitting here, complaining about my awesome kid who just had a freaking bad day. But, that's life. Right? RIGHT?!}
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...