Toddlers...grrrr
He wants his way. He's 3. It's a lousy age, even when you ARE verbal.
At lunch, he smeared Nutella all over himself and the treehouse while I was helping Husband load the van.
Then he was grabbing the dogs' feet. I told him that if he kept doing that, we were going inside.
Meanwhile, I got water and scrubbed the treehouse down. Then since he was still pestering the dogs, I stripped him and washed him off with the hose. While I was turning off the hose, He put his hands in dirt and smeared it on his penis and leg. I washed that off and said we were going inside. He screamed in protest and went all boneless.
Once I got him (dragged) over threshold, he collapsed on the floor and I TRIPPED over him, and then HE was mad that I'd stepped on him and I was mad that he'd tripped me (again--the dogs and kids have been underfoot at EVERY turn). I took his hand to walk him to his room, and he started screaming again. I set things down, washed off the bottoms of HIS shoes (which were stomped into the nutella), by which time he was messing with the VCRs. He wanted to watch HIS tape, and I told him that a) it wasn't his turn and b) he had lost his turn regardless. You can guess how well THAT went over.
I told him we needed to get dressed and, after making me drag him a long part way, ran to the bathroom, went tinkle (yay) but then wanted to flush and flush. I finshed the potty ritual with him then put him outside the door. He screamed MORE when I closed the bathroom door, blocking him out.
I went to get clothes and Elf stood in my way three separate times AND insisted on changing into new clothes (the dress she'd worn outside had a few bits of dirt on it. Whoa.
I got Ben's clothes, picked him up bodily, dressed him while he screamed and kicked, carried him under my arm to his room, then deposited him, still screaming and kicking, on his bed, with instructions to tell me when he was done. I closed the door behind me.
After about 5 minutes, he toddled out, no longer screaming. He came and sat by me for a couple of minutes, then climbed down and got on his chair and turned off the tape Elf and I were watching and tried to put his own in. I told him no, got up, removed his tape, put ours back in and picked him up to set him down. Just as I went to set him down and he did the damned boneless thing on PURPOSE, wouldn't stand up when I expected him to put his feet under him and (amazingly), got dropped on his butt. Then he crumpled into his trademark, "I'm not getting my way heap." Then he ran off to his room again.
Joy. And look how angelic he looks.
At lunch, he smeared Nutella all over himself and the treehouse while I was helping Husband load the van.
Then he was grabbing the dogs' feet. I told him that if he kept doing that, we were going inside.
Meanwhile, I got water and scrubbed the treehouse down. Then since he was still pestering the dogs, I stripped him and washed him off with the hose. While I was turning off the hose, He put his hands in dirt and smeared it on his penis and leg. I washed that off and said we were going inside. He screamed in protest and went all boneless.
Once I got him (dragged) over threshold, he collapsed on the floor and I TRIPPED over him, and then HE was mad that I'd stepped on him and I was mad that he'd tripped me (again--the dogs and kids have been underfoot at EVERY turn). I took his hand to walk him to his room, and he started screaming again. I set things down, washed off the bottoms of HIS shoes (which were stomped into the nutella), by which time he was messing with the VCRs. He wanted to watch HIS tape, and I told him that a) it wasn't his turn and b) he had lost his turn regardless. You can guess how well THAT went over.
I told him we needed to get dressed and, after making me drag him a long part way, ran to the bathroom, went tinkle (yay) but then wanted to flush and flush. I finshed the potty ritual with him then put him outside the door. He screamed MORE when I closed the bathroom door, blocking him out.
I went to get clothes and Elf stood in my way three separate times AND insisted on changing into new clothes (the dress she'd worn outside had a few bits of dirt on it. Whoa.
I got Ben's clothes, picked him up bodily, dressed him while he screamed and kicked, carried him under my arm to his room, then deposited him, still screaming and kicking, on his bed, with instructions to tell me when he was done. I closed the door behind me.
After about 5 minutes, he toddled out, no longer screaming. He came and sat by me for a couple of minutes, then climbed down and got on his chair and turned off the tape Elf and I were watching and tried to put his own in. I told him no, got up, removed his tape, put ours back in and picked him up to set him down. Just as I went to set him down and he did the damned boneless thing on PURPOSE, wouldn't stand up when I expected him to put his feet under him and (amazingly), got dropped on his butt. Then he crumpled into his trademark, "I'm not getting my way heap." Then he ran off to his room again.
Joy. And look how angelic he looks.