(no subject)
Andrew had a terrible day yesterday, and somehow that has bleeded over to me, though my day itself wasn't all that terrible. I think it was made terrible by extension. It was one of those days in which everything was going wrong - or at least it seemed like it - and no matter what, all he heard was "No."
Not the case, but I understand why he felt like it was; I've had days like that too. And of course it was topped by being unable to find his copy of Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day, which is the perfect book to read at the end of a very bad day, unless you've had a bad day and can't find it.
*sigh*
It started off with him waking up and immediately asking for Daddy and Target. Neither of which I was willing to deliver, because it was 7.15am and Daddy didn't get to sleep until 3, and Target was obviously still closed. Also, the only reason he wants Target - and I know this because he was asking for the same reason yesterday - was because he thinks if he goes, he'll get a toy. I think he is absolutely convinced that Target is the source of all toys in the world, despite the fact that every time he's gone, he can never find anything he wants, and then he gets upset that he can't find anything, and I'm not sure how we got into this pattern, of him getting a toy every time we go, and I'm so flippin' tired of it...but I also haven't particularly wanted to fight that particular battle and the assured tantrum that will result if we went to Target and did not get a toy.
("Small toy," Andrew tells me, and he's decent enough about the difference between small and large toys. But still. Small and large toys are not the problem here.)
Then he and Bill went to the bowling alley, something he's been asking to do for the last week, except one of the sororities had taken over half the lanes for some activity and despite the fact that they weren't using two of them, refused to let Andrew play on them. It was loud and crowded and the lights were low for some reason, and both the driving video games that Andrew likes to play in the lobby were broken, and Andrew was just generally miserable and cranky.
He took a nap in the car, which never leads to any good, and then just before dinner, he saw that the kids were all outside playing, so he wanted to go, and off he went. And came back not ten minutes later, because none of the bigger boys were willing to let him play with them on the backyard trampoline. This sounds reasonable, but to Andrew, it's devastating and confusing, because he's been playing all summer with them on the trampoline, and in fact they seem to have enjoyed his presence, so he can't understand why they've changed their mind. (Neither can I, honestly - they're all about seven/eight years old, so much bigger than Andrew, but he adores them, and until now they've all been really great kids, very careful and kind to him, and have numerous times assured me that Andrew's just fine playing with them, and after having watched several sessions, I believe them.)
So Andrew came home in tears - actual, literal tears - and stood in the road just sobbing, because he wanted me to go over to the trampoline and make the big boys let him play. Which I refused to do, partially because dinner was under the broiler and partially because - well, it is their trampoline and if they don't want Andrew to play, there's really not much I can do about it. (I admit, part of me didn't mind the sobbing, because it was loud and in full view of the trampoline, and my motherish heart wanted those boys to hear Andrew's distress and maybe feel a bit guilty about it. Wretched little changeable beasts.)
But then Andrew refused to go in, and I knew dinner was going to burn, and when I tried to ease him inside, he flat out hit me, and that was the end of that, and I picked him up and carried him in, so that went about as well as could be expected, and his crying turned into full-scale tantrum, which I can understand. First the big boys reject him, and then Momma turns traitor.
On the plus side, that was the last terrible thing to occur, and after he'd calmed down for dinner, we went to the playground and played (in full view of the still active trampoline, but luckily he didn't put up too much of a fuss about not going over to it) and then he ran into some similarly-aged friends, and played with them, so the day ended well enough.
Except for the cough he had all night long, and I don't think anyone in the house slept very well. But today cannot possibly be as bad as yesterday.
But despite the fact that my day wasn't so horrible - I got a lot of cleanning and organizing done while Bill and Andrew were at their ill-fated bowling excursion, and the person who won the coconut rum cake I made for the cake walk yesterday ended up bringing me a big hunk of it to eat, which was extremely nice of her (it was really good, too) - I was feeling heartsick after Andrew went to sleep. Partially the whole trampoline thing, which I'm not sure what to do about. On one hand, it's their trampoline and their rules. On the other...it's such an abrupt shift from their usual acceptance that I wonder if something else wasn't going on, or if Andrew misinterpreted, which certainly does happen. And what do I do, call their mother and say, "Your kids were being mean to my kid!" Their mom is sweet enough....but she's kind of notorious for letting her pack of boys go largely unsupervised, so I'm not sure what exactly she'd do about it, assuming she was willing to do anything at all.
So at the moment, I'm trying to play it to Andrew as a life lesson (ugh, horrible life lessons at four years old) in Unfairness, with a side helping of Not Wanting What You Can't Have. Yeah, it's unfair to be excluded. Remember that when you're big. If the club doesn't want you as a member, you don't want to join that club anyway (or however that saying goes). I'm pretty sure all of those are going to pop up again for him, many times, over the course of his life, though, and that's probably what's hurting me the most, because I thought maybe he could be a little bit older before he had to learn them.
All the same, I'd kind of like to track down the bigger boys and slap them. That's probably terrible, but there you are.
Not the case, but I understand why he felt like it was; I've had days like that too. And of course it was topped by being unable to find his copy of Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day, which is the perfect book to read at the end of a very bad day, unless you've had a bad day and can't find it.
*sigh*
It started off with him waking up and immediately asking for Daddy and Target. Neither of which I was willing to deliver, because it was 7.15am and Daddy didn't get to sleep until 3, and Target was obviously still closed. Also, the only reason he wants Target - and I know this because he was asking for the same reason yesterday - was because he thinks if he goes, he'll get a toy. I think he is absolutely convinced that Target is the source of all toys in the world, despite the fact that every time he's gone, he can never find anything he wants, and then he gets upset that he can't find anything, and I'm not sure how we got into this pattern, of him getting a toy every time we go, and I'm so flippin' tired of it...but I also haven't particularly wanted to fight that particular battle and the assured tantrum that will result if we went to Target and did not get a toy.
("Small toy," Andrew tells me, and he's decent enough about the difference between small and large toys. But still. Small and large toys are not the problem here.)
Then he and Bill went to the bowling alley, something he's been asking to do for the last week, except one of the sororities had taken over half the lanes for some activity and despite the fact that they weren't using two of them, refused to let Andrew play on them. It was loud and crowded and the lights were low for some reason, and both the driving video games that Andrew likes to play in the lobby were broken, and Andrew was just generally miserable and cranky.
He took a nap in the car, which never leads to any good, and then just before dinner, he saw that the kids were all outside playing, so he wanted to go, and off he went. And came back not ten minutes later, because none of the bigger boys were willing to let him play with them on the backyard trampoline. This sounds reasonable, but to Andrew, it's devastating and confusing, because he's been playing all summer with them on the trampoline, and in fact they seem to have enjoyed his presence, so he can't understand why they've changed their mind. (Neither can I, honestly - they're all about seven/eight years old, so much bigger than Andrew, but he adores them, and until now they've all been really great kids, very careful and kind to him, and have numerous times assured me that Andrew's just fine playing with them, and after having watched several sessions, I believe them.)
So Andrew came home in tears - actual, literal tears - and stood in the road just sobbing, because he wanted me to go over to the trampoline and make the big boys let him play. Which I refused to do, partially because dinner was under the broiler and partially because - well, it is their trampoline and if they don't want Andrew to play, there's really not much I can do about it. (I admit, part of me didn't mind the sobbing, because it was loud and in full view of the trampoline, and my motherish heart wanted those boys to hear Andrew's distress and maybe feel a bit guilty about it. Wretched little changeable beasts.)
But then Andrew refused to go in, and I knew dinner was going to burn, and when I tried to ease him inside, he flat out hit me, and that was the end of that, and I picked him up and carried him in, so that went about as well as could be expected, and his crying turned into full-scale tantrum, which I can understand. First the big boys reject him, and then Momma turns traitor.
On the plus side, that was the last terrible thing to occur, and after he'd calmed down for dinner, we went to the playground and played (in full view of the still active trampoline, but luckily he didn't put up too much of a fuss about not going over to it) and then he ran into some similarly-aged friends, and played with them, so the day ended well enough.
Except for the cough he had all night long, and I don't think anyone in the house slept very well. But today cannot possibly be as bad as yesterday.
But despite the fact that my day wasn't so horrible - I got a lot of cleanning and organizing done while Bill and Andrew were at their ill-fated bowling excursion, and the person who won the coconut rum cake I made for the cake walk yesterday ended up bringing me a big hunk of it to eat, which was extremely nice of her (it was really good, too) - I was feeling heartsick after Andrew went to sleep. Partially the whole trampoline thing, which I'm not sure what to do about. On one hand, it's their trampoline and their rules. On the other...it's such an abrupt shift from their usual acceptance that I wonder if something else wasn't going on, or if Andrew misinterpreted, which certainly does happen. And what do I do, call their mother and say, "Your kids were being mean to my kid!" Their mom is sweet enough....but she's kind of notorious for letting her pack of boys go largely unsupervised, so I'm not sure what exactly she'd do about it, assuming she was willing to do anything at all.
So at the moment, I'm trying to play it to Andrew as a life lesson (ugh, horrible life lessons at four years old) in Unfairness, with a side helping of Not Wanting What You Can't Have. Yeah, it's unfair to be excluded. Remember that when you're big. If the club doesn't want you as a member, you don't want to join that club anyway (or however that saying goes). I'm pretty sure all of those are going to pop up again for him, many times, over the course of his life, though, and that's probably what's hurting me the most, because I thought maybe he could be a little bit older before he had to learn them.
All the same, I'd kind of like to track down the bigger boys and slap them. That's probably terrible, but there you are.