Most of the time it’s easy for me to remember that this little kiddo has no idea how infuriating he’s being. Besides some things he does that should be aggravating (and certainly would be if anyone else did them) are even a little charming. So, while I wouldn’t describe myself as patient, I’m much more tolerant than I ever thought I could be.
However, sometimes, usually when I’m running late and ALL my buttons have been pressed all morning long, I just lose it and start screaming like a banshee. It’s not often, it’s not effective and I feel like an idiot afterwards, but I honestly think it’s my only choice in the moment.
After trying to dress a child who has played collapsing noodle boy, run away constantly and changed his mind 16 times about what he wants for breakfast, we are dressed, 10 minutes late and heading out the door. He decides he wants to bring two of his action figures in the car.
C: I want the two that I don’t have and/or haven’t seen for the last year.
Me: You don’t have him and the other one is missing.
C But I WANT them.
Me: Pick something else.
C: OK I’ll take the one that does not exist.
Me: That does not exist.
C: But I WA
Me: PICK SOMETHING!!
Me: THAT’S IT WE ARE LEAVING
ME: THEN PICK SOMETHING PICK SOMETHING PICKSOMETHING!!!!!!
C: You don’t have to scream at me.
I get to work 15 minutes late with a sore throat and he gets to spend the day with the image of his crazy-eyed mother shrieking nonsensically at him.