anatomy of a tantrum

It seems like a lot has happened over the last month, but I've been too tuckered out to blog about it, opting instead for earlier bedtimes.

Elias's great love has, sadly, switched from books to video. He especially likes surfing around the kids programs on Netflix or video clips at sesamestreet.org. Screentime is normally reserved as a special treat for Saturdays and an occasional weeknight, and in the mornings when getting ready to go. After school today we were doing well in the real world, looking for marshmallow sticks for his school trip tomorrow, visiting with the chickens, then making a pizza. Then he caught sight of my laptop, on, in the office and rushed over to load videos. I told him no, not until after dinner, when I'd watch something with him, which he glumly accepted and walked out. I went to take the trash out. When I returned, there he was at the computer, with Sesame Street loaded, looking very guilty. I reminded him I told him he couldn't play on the computer until after dinner (ignoring his hasty but heart-felt excuse that had something to do with Cookie Monster), and because he disobeyed, now he couldn't play on the computer at all tonight. It's not the first time this senario has played out, but tonight, Oh, the drama! He burst out crying, bawling, lamenting, hanging onto me...which went on for over an hour. I think that's a record. He'd get himself just under control, then after several seconds remember the "harsh"sentence visited upon him and start up all over again. When we sat down for dinner and I prayed, he tacked on, bitterly, "and THANK YOU for the computer and THANK YOU that Mom said I can't play on the computer tonight and is making me very, VERY upset! Amen." Then he told me "yes, I'm telling God on you." He abandoned that route when I reminded him that God wants us to obey our parents, and reverted to the cycle of bawling, catching his breath, asking again if he can play on the computer (with variations of wording, or proffered limitations to particular programs, or provisions, or justifications), objecting to the same, un-nuansed "no" answer, and then more sobbing. I probably could have stopped it by getting him to do something else, or refusing to let him "tantrum" in the kitchen where I was, or even ordering him to stop, but I wondered how he'd get over it himself. I was fascinated at how all-encompassing and deep-felt his disappointment was, far in excess of the happiness afforded a little computer time, and how much effort he expended in sustaining his anger. In the talking parts of the cycle, I was impressed how eloquently he voiced his assessment, objections, and attempted negotiations of the matter. I was pleased he never tried to ignore my ruling by sneaking off to play on the computer, nor did he act out his frustration; rather, he clung to me seeking comfort in his distress. So we cuddled and talked until he wore himself out. Meekly, still weeping, he got ready for bed, then fell deeply asleep on me after just one book. It was all said and done by 7:50. I bet tomorrow it'll be as if nothing happened, except (hopefully) a lesson learned.

Elias' tantrum was just so ridiculously overblown and unreasonable, at times I fought back a smile, but then it got me thinking: do I do the same thing? I'm upset and stressed about not being fairly paid at work, but I got myself into this situation, and it's clear that my reasoning, begging, and emotional stress aren't going to change their decision one whit--so what am I whining about? Why do I keep presenting ever-more-eloquent reasoning to a brick wall? I need to chill out, accept it, and move on a little bit wiser. Like Elias.

O, those boundaries

Today I got another one of those notes from daycare, that Elias "had a hard time listening today." This time he refused to clean up a toy to the extent that he didn't get to make cookies with the rest of his class--harsh!...but I'm glad they stick to their guns. He's got to learn that he doesn't dictate the rules, and there are consequences to his choices. We encountered a similar situation when we got home. He asked for his Thomas video ("choo-choo train?"), and I said if we clean up the living room then we can watch Thomas the train. He worked through around 1/3 of the books while I tackled the blocks, but then he lost interest and decided to climb on Mommy and the couch instead. He adamantly refused to pick up his books...so I picked them up myself but put them on the mantle when he can't get them. Last time that worked really well. This time he didn't seem to care as much, but still ended up running crying down the hall rather than clean up. I counted that as a marginal victory. Then when making dinner he brought me the phone wanting me to pretend to talk in it, but when I didn't he dropped it on the floor. I asked him to pick it up and he ignored me. I asked again (I'm not supposed to do that), and he said no. So--off to his room! He cried; I went back to making dinner. Soon he finished crying and came out, running to me, smiling, and we hugged. I asked if he was going to put the phone back and he ran right over and did it, eagerly even. Yea! This stuff is hard for both of us at the time, but wow, it seems we both know it's the best thing. I think he does feel more secure and in control when he figures out the rules. Actually, I'd be worried if he didn't test boundaries. I know I'm not as strict or consistent as I should be, but I'm working on it--and Elias is providing more and more opportunities for practice.

catch up

Blog entries are the offspring of inspiration and opportunity, which for me have not been coinciding. It's been a month now. Elias has done so many blogable feats, but of course now I'm having trouble recalling them. Alas, that's a prime reason I do this: to try to capture in some shadowy way those magical moments that would otherwise slip through my poor memory. Here's a few snipets I recall.

A couple wees ago he was counting like he often does, methodically pointing at objects and saying "one..twwoo...three..." when he shocked me by switching to Spanish! In the same measured way he counted all the way to 10 in Spanish, with darned good pronounciation, too. I guess he IS learning something at those Spanish lessons in daycare. Today I heard him count to 17 (he kept pointing to reach 20, but the pronounciation pretty much deteriorated to be unrecognizable.)

The floor in Elias' room is covered with those foam puzzle pieces with letters, numbers and shapes. I love it when he takes out a letter, holds it up and says "uh-oh, S!" or "Uh-oh, I!" Then inevitably he asks for help putting it back, then I say "no, you can do that yourself," then after some fiddling he does, and proudly proclaims "I did that!"

He asks for most book by either title or the opening few key words. For some of them he enjoys reading key phrases along with me. He often comments on the story or pictures.

It's been really hard to take pictures of Elias because he always rushes over to me, either for myself or (more often) to look at himself on the preview screen on the camera. Lately though he's been cutting me some slack. When he sees the camera now he yells "smile!" and stands in front for about 5 seconds...then runs around to look at the results on the back of the camera. I took a couple pictures of him by our pumpkin, so last time when the camera came out to capture his dragon Halloween costume he rushed over to it "Elias--pumpkin sit?"

Over the last month or so for the first time Elias' daily notes from daycare don't always read glowingly "I had a good day today," but sometimes say things like "I had a hard time listening today." Hm. Yea. Well, yes, he's 2. Really, though he's still pretty amazingly "good." His trials nowadays seem mostly to be frustration at not being able to do what he wants and/or be able to verbalize it. For example, tonight he was hungry and mad that I was making dinner rather than reading him a book, and stood in the kitchen, screaming. I told him Mommy was making dinner, and he could go cry in his room if he wanted. After pausing a moment to take that in and catch his breath, he did a crisp military turn and went to his room, where he continued wailing. A little while later he wandered back in, all tear-streaked but calm. I gave him a hug and he said "All done crying now Mommy." Awww! And by then dinner was ready so everyone was happy.

sick, bleh.

Here's a cheery start for a blog: I just spent the last hour or so vomiting up all vestiges of my dinner. Thankfully, Elias is sleeping peacefully. I guess I'm glad now that he didn't eat much of my cassarole at dinner, if that's what it was. Ugh. I'm hoping a few Cheerios will calm things down so I can go to bed. In the meantime, though, it's good to stay upright and think about better things...like Elias!

This morning when having his diaper changed he informed me that was "poo" and his diaper was "poopy." That must be another daycare word, since I don't say that. Recognition is the first step to potty training!

This evening he was upset that I made him come in for dinner after playing outside, and showed his frustration by whining then throwing his sippycup of milk across the room. (He might be the best baby in the world, but he's still mortal, after all.) Well, that called for a timeout in his room, where he stood and really cried for about 1/2 a minute, then abruptly stopped. So I led him back out, and he went over to the sippycup and declared "mess." He picked up the sippycup and gave it to me, I gave him a paper towel, and he went back over to the couple drops of milk on the floor and wiped them up. Awww...so good-natured and cute!