For the last two days, David has been pushing all of my buttons.
Every. Single. One.
Sometimes two or three at a time!
Whoever said two was terrible must not have been through three yet.
He is driving me crazy.
Seriously.
There were times today when I felt like the sheer madness of it all was going to make my mind explode. If insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different result, then David is certifiable.
We were in my bedroom this morning while I was folding and putting away laundry.
“Stop jumping on the bed.”
He jumps.
“I said stop jumping on the bed!”
He jumps again.
“I told you to stop jumping on the bed! Do it again and you’re going to get spanked.”
He keeps jumping.
“Alright! That’s it! I told you to stop. You are intentionally disobeying me.”
I spank him. Five minutes later what’s he doing again? JUMPING ON THE BED!
Just before lunch.
“I want a cookie.”
“It’s almost time for lunch. You can have a cookie after you eat.”
“But I want a cookie.”
“I said not until after lunch.”
“But I don’t want lunch. I want a cookie.”
“If you don’t eat lunch, you don’t get a cookie.”
“But I want a cookie.”
You can’t win an argument like this with David. He has to get the last word in. I had to find some way to stop the endless loop of yes and no. “I’m getting your lunch now. This conversation is over. I don’t want to hear another word about cookies. If you keep talking about it, I’m going to ignore you.”
Now the real whining starts. “Bu-bu-bu-but I waaaaaant a coooooookie. Pleeeeeease. Can I have a coooookie. Pleeeeeease. Pleeeeeease. Ah, Mommie! Look at me! Talk to me! I. WANT. A. COOKIE. NOW. GO. GET. ME. A. COOKIE!”
This is one of those mind-numbing moments I’m talking about. The whining, nagging and yelling builds and builds until I can’t think anymore. I swear everything goes white and the room spins a little. For a split second I feel like I’ve lost all control of the situation, and I’ll never get it back.
“Now you’re talking back to me. You don’t tell Mommie what to do. 10 minutes in time out. Let’s go!”
At bedtime.
“Go in the bathroom. You need to try and go potty, and brush your teeth.”
“I don’t need to go potty.”
“You have to try.”
“But I went already.”
“Two hours ago doesn’t count.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Didn’t we talk about obeying a whole bunch of times today?”
“Uh-uh.”
“What happened when you didn’t obey?”
“I got in trouble.”
“Do you want to get in trouble again?”
“No.”
“Then try to go potty.”
“I don’t want to.”
Are you sighing, throwing your hands up in the air, shaking your head and looking up at the ceiling with me yet?
I look at the ceiling a lot during the day.
It’s less painful than beating your head against a brick wall.
“I’m going to give you one last chance, because I don’t want to spank you just before bedtime. I suggest you take this one last chance. Go. In. The. Bath. Room. Now. And try to go potty. OR ELSE!”
Finally he runs to the bathroom, and guess what?
He did have to pee after all.
Good grief!
Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s just testing me. How many times does he have to perform the same test until he accepts proof of the theory? If he were a scientist, he would have run out of grant money months ago.
I’m drained and exhausted after two days of this. I hate scolding and punishing all day long. I know I have to discipline him, but I still feel miserable about it. Right now, I’m dreading tomorrow.
I really don’t want another day of it.
I don’t think I can take another day of it.
I need to get something stronger than Calgon.
How about a whole week at a spa?
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