When catching up on my blog reading, I came across a post from Holly about "the defiant child". I went to type a reply and realized there was a blog post of my own in there to mine rather than a comment on someone else's ....Sorry Holly!!
(but I love the wordle - had to do one for Little Man's Blog, too!)
I do remember that as I got older I dared more to "back talk" my mom, but smart aleck comments (and ok, a petty need to have the last word) were more my style than the outright rudeness of 'shut up' 'I hate you', etc. I was still pretty scared of making my mom mad and earning one of her signature glares (which she comes by honestly...the nana glares are the worst!)well into my teens. I also remember hearing (on more than one occassion)my mother's wish that someday I would have a child 'just like me'. I used to laugh and reply that I was never going to have kids, so there! hahahaha.......fast forward to the end of 2008.
Kevin is 3.5, and while I think he's a pretty cool and well adjusted kid overall, he's developed the habit of having to have the last word for everything...If I'm upset, he tells me he's more upset, he says 'no' when asked to do things (or suddendly develops hearing problems), he turns his back when you talk to him, the whole nine yards. Time outs are more of a fight to get him to sit for than the original 'fight', and just when I think the techniques you read about in all the parenting books are going to help me win the war, Little Man finds the Achilles' Heel: "I don't want to live with you anymore. It's no fun here. I like it with Papa (dad) much more. I want to live with papa."
It lacks the short punch of "I don't love you", but for all it's wordiness, it hurts that much more...there seems to be so much consideration behind the word choice. Direct Hit, Battleship Sunk, Checkmate......
The first time he dropped this wordy bombshell, I went ballistic (exactly what you aren't supposed to do, thank you What to expect: The First Four Years) and sent him to bed. The second time, I ignored him completely ('look, a raincloud! Isn't that exiciting') which only meant he felt the need to repeat it, at a progressively louder volume, much like American tourists in a foreign country asking for directions (but I digress..)
The last time he said it, was at the end of a week of business travel, not having seen Little Man for almost a week, coming back to fight with kitchen contractors, bank mix ups, and a full week of work to complete in one working day, rushing home Friday night to collect Little Man, and, upon waking the following morning looking forward to a 'Mommy day', having the following conversation:
'Good Morning Little Man'
mumble
'Shall we go downstairs and have breakfast'?
'I want cookies'
'Cookies aren't for breakfast. You want cereal or toast?'
'I can eat cookies with Papa. I don't want to stay with you, I want to go and live with Papa'
And that was the moment I had a mini meltdown. All the phone conversations with my mom over the last months (you know he doesn't mean it), went right out the window. I put my hands in my head and felt tears rolling down my face. What was I supposed to say? Should I just give up and let him move in with Dad?
The change in Kevin was incredible. He rushed to find a Kleenex, wiped my cheek, told me not to cry, and then said 'I Love you mommy, you don't have to cry'. I thought, this might be my chance. I sat with him on my lap and told him I did have to cry, becuase sometimes words hurt. hurt words hurt just as much as falling down. He thought about this, looked at my knee and asked if I needed a spiderman band-aid? I then said that when you hurt with words, a spiderman band-aid doesn't help, because it's inside that hurts. Again the look......'I don't want mommy to hurt'.
I gave him a hug and told him that it hurt to hear he doesn't like it with me, becuase I like being with him very much, and I would be very sad if he didn't want to stay with me anymore. Then, we agreed that it's ok to love both mom and dad, and stay at both mom and dad's house. We were reading a story later when he said 'I love you mommy'...and suddenly things felt right again. What a crazy power the little ones have!
I won't say he's cured completely, but since that day he hasn't again said that he doesn't like it with me. I'll take the occasional 'no' any day.
I'll feel blessed if this one of those lessons he learns early in life - that words can hurt. And I hope my mom didn't really mean it when she wished a child just like me on me....was I really that bad?
