Little Bits of Pixie Dust

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thourougly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, what a ride!!"

Friday, April 05, 2013

Driving Mr. Violent

C. has recently entered into a violent phase; when he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll smack or kick, and the worst one is that if he’s in the car and gets mad he starts hurling toys from the back seat into the front where I’m driving. I don’t know where this is coming from; even when he was at that age where most kids are pressing the hitting limits, C. wasn’t really into it. But now he’s four, and all of a sudden he’s a fucking powerhouse. And sometimes it HURTS, because he’s bigger now. Also, not conducive to good driving to have objects flying at your head. I am not a spanker, and obviously that would be counterproductive, to hit someone for hitting. We’ve done the time outs, the taking away of favorite stuff… the thing with my kid is, he doesn’t really care what you do to him and he will tell you that he doesn’t really care. I will take away what I think is the current favorite toy of the moment and he will look right at me and say, “I don’t care, I’ll just play with my ---“

I know he’s been through a lot this year, and I’m sure that’s part of it. I also know that he is forever testing limits and he wants to see just how far he can push. But when someone’s feet in their light up Spiderman shoes are drumming a rhythm on the back of your seat in the car and all of a sudden a stuffed hamster hits you in the ear, it becomes hard to remember the reasonable reasons why he is acting this way. I am at a loss. The other day we were driving down the road and I told him that he couldn’t have a cookie until after he ate his breakfast (it was before 7 in the morning, I was on my way to work and he was on the way to the sitters). He lost his shit and started screaming. My usual way of dealing with this is to turn up the radio really loud and ignore him, but this time he screamed “NOOOOOO” with the strength of a thousand lungs when he heard the music get louder and then a plastic bag flew into the front seat, followed closely by a power cord. When he threw a T-shirt, I lost my shit too and screamed at him that it was DANGEROUS TO THROW THINGS WHILE MOM IS DRIVING!! And I don’t know, maybe it was the early hour or maybe I’m just at the end of my rope with this stuff, but I started crying and I called A* and told him that it was HIS turn to deal with things, and hissed at C. that I had called Daddy. This is not a threat in any sense of the word, so I don’t know why I thought this was a thing to say, but I did. I handed the phone back to C. and listened to him immediately calm down and speak to his dad like he was a thirty five year old accountant. I wanted to throw a power cord at both of them.

I have a new found respect for all the single parents out there. I am not in any sense of the word a single parent, because I still see A* everyday and plus my parents help out when they can, but I do have to do the bulk of the childcare since C. lives with me and not his dad, and let me tell you I am just not cut out for it. I have no patience and end up acting just as dumb as the four year old. I am tired, people. One time getting up in the night to fix the blankets JUST SO is one thing, but by the third time I may just lay in bed and pretend like I’m such a sound sleeper that I don’t hear him. Until he amps the volume and says Mommy four hundred times; then I drag myself out of bed AGAIN and put the blankets on again and then he says, “Mommy, I can still feel air,” and a tiny portion of his little toe is sticking out and I want to throw a stuffed hamster. My friend told me recently that when she first separated from her ex husband, she would text him in the middle of the night when she knew he was with the new (slut) girlfriend, and say things like, “I’m up cleaning up puke at 3 in the morning, what are you doing?” I’m going to start doing that, and if only I had the strength to get that power cord in the air to hit A* in the face across town. Hmmm, maybe that’s where C. gets it from.


Post a Comment

<< Home