Honestly, how many posts can a woman write about the tactics of a disobedient toddler? Well, you’re about to find out because here is YET another one (in case you missed it, here was the last one, and I’m sure there will be more to come….).
Let me begin by saying that this weekend was not all mayhem. The kids, after a pretty rough few weeks, were so loving. Lots of hugs and kisses and cuddles and reading in my lap. On the whole, I thoroughly enjoyed this weekend with them which is more than I can say about a few of the past ones (I know, I’m terrible, but seriously, you would not enjoy 48 straight hours with 3 speedy noncompliant 22 month olds either!). But lest I forget that they are only at the beginning of the independent/test-your-boundaries phase, they threw a few new tactics in my direction. Here’s my top 5 list of the hijinks that ensued as the animals began to take over the zoo:
No. 5: Screaming is now used as a periodic tool to either express anger or need for attention. The eldest, while I personally think he screams less than the other two, does do it with a force and pitch to be reckoned with. So now the baby has added the eldest to his repertoire of sounds, i.e., “How does the duck go?” with a “Quack Quack” in response; “How does the horse go?” with a very operatic soprano version of “Neighhhhhh” in response; and “How does your brother go?” with a “AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH” in response. The eldest does not seem amused.
No. 4: I wear more make up now than I did in the ’80s because the little lady, in addition to her punching people (most frequently, me) in the eye, has taken to scratching the living daylights out of my face. No matter how short I cut her nails, whenever she’s in a snit about something, she grabs my face in her little fingers with a fierceness reserved for middle ages battles. The process of extricating your every aging skin from her stranglehold often results in scratch marks across your face. Quite the picture of femininity.
No. 3: Our furniture in the living room is pushed up against the gas fireplace to keep the kids from playing in pipes filled with toxic gases. This apparently is not a deterrent but an invitation. They just SCALE the furniture, couch or chair, and stand up on the little stone ledge of the fireplace behind the furniture laughing and clapping and sinking down behind the furniture should you hazard to try to extract them from the aforesaid danger.
No. 2: I purchased a book called Hands Are Not For Hitting this weekend because of the recent rash of hitting (see No. 4). We all curled up in my lap and began to read the book (which is now a house favorite). The story basically says, hands are not for hitting, hands are for hugging and helping and waving, etc. It repeats this “hands are not for hitting but hands are for…” message about 3 times throughout the book. Every time I speak the words, “hands are not for hitting,” the eldest promptly begins to beat the tar out of the book. Great. That was effective.
No. 1: The Baby, or Dennis the Menace as my husband likes to call him (or the evil genius as I infrequently employ), climbs up on the dining room chair, then climbs on top of the dining room table and takes a stick and begins beating my crystal vase. I say, “no climbing on the table or you go to time out,” and pull him down. To which he responds with gales of laughter and a prompt climb back on the table. I say, “okay, you’re going to time out,” where he goes for 2 minutes. As I pull him out he goes running as fast as his chubby little legs will carry him and climbs back on the table looking at me and laughing. I say, “no, no, this is dangerous, you have to go back to time out now.” I pull him out and……well, you get the idea, apparently, punishment spurs him on. Fun for all.