Thursday, November 3, 2011

I still love him

I often physically and mentally struggle with my 21 month old son who doesn't always like getting buckled into his carseat. Usually I'm short on time and not in a good mood, so that helps to exacerbates the situation (especially for me). This morning was no different.

So, I'm in a rush and probably foul mood as I carry him into the car and try to place him gingerly into the carseat. His body goes stiff and he immediately wriggles out of the seat. D always has other ideas. Dammit I'm thinking. Car keys? I say desperately as I jangle them in his face. Sometimes this enticement works really well but this time, he ignores me. I offer him another trinket but again he ignores me.

His mind is wrapped around something else. Like a hungry raptor with determination and precision, he reaches down and across for a shrink wrapped goody that I made Dazee leave behind earlier today. With that treasure in hand, he is completely pacified and oblivious to me. Now, I have reflexes like a predator as I quickly take the opportunity to put him into the car seat and buckle him up.

Only seconds before, he had fought me out of the seat for dear life, but now he is too busy pawing his booty like a depraved animal. "OPENITANDRIPIT," he commands me in one quick breath. "Rip it!" he repeats like a mantra.

I was so shocked by his first statement - 5 words I counted. I couldn't believe my ears. A month or so ago, this boy-genius only knew two words - "No" and "mama" (not for me but a word he used indiscriminately for anything he wanted).

It is funny to me when D behaves aggressively because his voice is so soft, like a kitten.

Recently I've been trying to re-teach him to say Thank you in a voice that can be heard. He had been saying it but stopped all of a sudden. He replaced it with "You're welcomed." I guess that always followed when he said "Thank you" that he decided saying "Thank you" was totally unnecessary.

"Say thank you, D" I would ask. "You're welcomed," he'd say.

After I successfully got him to eliminate the extinction of "Thank you", I decided to conquer the other skill with him. Saying it in a loud, audible, big, voice like Dazee.

"Say THANK YOU LOUD" I coached him.
"Thank you LOUD", he'd say.
Later that day, I asked him again, "Say THANK YOU LOOUUUD!"
He replied, "LOOUUUUUD!!!!"

Poor D is always in the car with me because I shuttle his two sisters to so many activities during the week. What's a 21 month old to do except find trouble and amusement even if he's bound and shackled? So when S left for Hebrew school, she threw her book into the car. As I drive off, I hear a crinkling of paper noise. "Noooooo!" I shriek, as I realize while driving that my son is probably tearing the book to shreds. "It's S's new book! Please give it to me." Of course he doesn't. And being that my patience is low, I try to snatch it from him. But that never works. Somehow whenever I try to get into a physical struggle with D, I always lose. (It doesn't seem to be that way with J, but then again, I think he doesn't know about opening doors for women or stepping aside in the elevator to let them off first).

Of course, I need to find another distraction. Granola bar! I offer him one. I throw one to the back of the car and he is soooo happy. He throws S's book to the floor like a scorned piece of garbage. I do a modified yoga-like move to grab it off the floor and throw it in the front seat, away from his reach.

"Open it!" he commands me. I wait for a red light to peel off the top part of the wrapper for him. He breaks off the visible piece and holds it in his hand. "Open more!" he commands again. A true offspring of two hoarders, D will not eat something unless he has at least two pieces in hand.

I didn't want to give him more (because I'm guess I'm a hoarder too) but I go against my will and open up more of it. He's now holding two inch-and-a-half pieces in each hand.

I take away the rest of the bar, saving the still ensconced bar in its wrapper, maybe for myself. We could all use a sugar rush.

Well that must've set him off. He crumbled up his two big pieces into a million sticky pieces. He smeared some of it on himself, the car seat and dropped the rest with glee on the floor of the car.

2 comments:

frank star said...

the next time jangle some tic tags for him!

frank said...

The next time, jangle some tic tacs for him!