Moments of Genius 8: Picking my battles
It’s week 8 of Moments of Genius. I hope you’ll add your link to a post you’ve written where you exuded pure genius in your own way. Sometimes, my Moments of Genius are sarcastic. Other times, they’re really smart. In today’s, I’m feeling brilliant.
The Animal is reaching 2 years old. We have about two months until we literally hit the big birthday, and he enters into the time many call, “The Terrible Twos.” Now, with Miss Sassy Pants, I had more trouble with three years old. This is when the sass began to fly. But, the Animal appears to want to hang with the status quo and show his ugly side early.
Recently, he’s living up to his blog name and screaming like a banshee when he doesn’t get what he wants. It takes everything I have to not laugh so that he won’t think I find it funny and therefore continue.
Two days ago, he began throwing a hissy fit because I wouldn’t give him some cereal. I mean, he was flailing his arms, knocking his letter magnets off the fridge, and thrashing about on the floor. I just ignored him. When he came over to me with his pouty, crying face and swatted at my leg, I took him — ever so calmly — into his room while quietly saying, “We don’t hit. That’s not nice. We show love,” and placing him in the recliner.
He sat there for about 2 minutes and came out a different child. And I felt like a genius.
Something similar happened today. He’s become addicted to my iPad and the ability to watch his favorite baby YouTube videos. When I tell him we’re all done, he gets just a tad annoyed. But today, I figured out that I could still sing to him, and that would appease his need to watch/listen to these ABC and 123 songs.
I had to run into my bedroom to grab a sweatshirt, and he decided we needed to sing about Nana, Opa, Grammy, and Pa. He sat on the couch in our room, and told me to sit, too. Considering it was nap time, I told him we’d go on in his room and sing. He held his ground, pointed at the couch, and said, “Sit!”
Instead of arguing (remember, I also teach teenagers and have learned the magical power of NOT arguing with them), I said, “Ok then, bye,” turned off my bedroom light and walked out. He followed, screaming in his animalistic-banshee voice. He pointed toward my room and said, “Sit! Nana! Papa!”
Calmly, I explained that we would go into his room with Peanut (his blanket) and his milk to sing. “No!” was his reply, and he ran back into my room.
I took those few moments to check my email, grab a drink of water, and see what was up on Facebook. Next thing I knew, he was in the kitchen pointing toward his room and saying, “Sing?”
Booyah. Mom wins.
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Image courtesy of David Castillo Dominici/freedigitalphotos.net
