Is 12 hours too long to leave him on the naughty step?
Just lately our 3 year old has very kindly been giving us a glimpse of what the teenage years might be like; Dada and I spend most of our time sympathising with one another in hushed voices, confessing our urges to accidentally lose our firstborn at the local Spar, and guiltily negotiating much-needed time away from the fury-inducing pint-sized one.
Last week I was in the kitchen getting bowls of yoghurt and fruit while he was sitting at his toddler-sized table with his brother. They'd just finished tea. Suddenly I heard an almight crash - he'd flipped the table over on it's side, smashing one of the legs clean off and rendering it useless. He got sent to the naughty step, appeared not to really register his crime and has nagged us about fixing it ever since, as if it's being out of action is somehow our fault.
Yesterday at soft play I could see inevitable carnage unfolding and yet was powerless to prevent it. Baby Brother was lying at the bottom of the huge wavy slide; a silly place to be but it didn't warrant what followed. Big Brother got to the top, whereupon he saw three empty spaces which meant he had plenty of time and choice to take a route down that didn't involve crashing feet first into his brother's face. Naturally he chose the latter but when he didn't actually gain enough speed to make much impact with his little brother, he ended his descent with a deliberate head-butt to the nose. The little one screamed and poured blood for a while. Big Brother got timed-out on the sofa beside me indefinitely and Dada and I shrugged our shoulders and exchanged 'Now what?' glances. Eventually when the blood stopped we let him back to play. Maybe that was a mistake but the alternative of dragging them all the way home after having driven an hour to get there and spending a chunk of money that we don't have on the privilege, well it just seemed too much, and I'm not convinced it would actually have taught him anything and would probably only have ensured he screamed most of the way home.
As it was he pitched an absolutely epic freakout when Dada handed him a plate of toast shortly after we got home, insisting that he'd said he didn't want any. 20 minutes later he begged and whined and pleaded for a plate of toast.
This morning he aimed a heavy water-filled ball at the back of his brother's head at close range. It's only down to the fact that his aim is rubbish that the poor kid didn't get knocked out cold.
Just now he was watching some TV before his nap and when I went to pick him up for a nap-time cuddle he pointed out his latest handiwork. Using a small toy aeroplane he'd gouged lots of deep scratch lines right into the arm of the leather sofa. It looks like a little tiger mauled it. I actually stayed completely calm, explained that Dada and I were both very cross that he had damaged the sofa like that, and that as soon as he saw that he was making marks on it he ought to have stopped. "But I did stop when I saw you coming," remarked the little criminal. I can laugh about it; I know we'll treasure those little marks in the years to come and miss the days when he was up to harmless mischief in our house, but at the same time it wears me down; it feels like he's not happy unless he's causing trouble, and we're stuck with an environment decimated by a small feisty boy; endless broken toys, stickers and scribbled crayon all over the walls, toys strewn everywhere and yet rarely played with.
What's SO frustrating about these episodes is that I don't understand WHY he does them. I'm pretty sure he knows that each of the above is wrong and that it's going to land him in trouble. So is it just a boundary-testing phase? I think I can live with that explanation but reinforcing the boundaries is SO draining and dull, and it actually makes spending time with him even harder. I'd planned that we'd bake a cake together this afternoon and when I witnessed the sofa-vandalism the first thing that came into my head was to say he was no longer allowed to bake a cake. His face fell; he's been looking forward to it and chattering about it since first thing this morning, but he didn't actually put up much of a protest. I predict he'll save that for this afternoon whereupon he'll whinge and whine and strop until I'll feel like I'm losing my mind. That's the other thing; I can never think quickly enough of the appropriate punishment for a misdemeanour and more often than not it seems to teach him absolutely nothing about his behaviour and only serves to make it worse as he freaks out about the punishment.
I think I understand too that some of his behaviour is just normal for a boy - that he strikes out in a moment of emotion and actually doesn't have the ability to rationalise what he's about to do, or why he did it. I just don't think I understand how to work with that. I constantly scan articles about hyperactivity disorders and sometimes think a diagnosis would make ME feel better because other people might then understand how utterly draining this kid can be, and how even my best effort doesn't seem to cut it with him. But I'm also sceptical about those kind of diagnoses anyway and don't like labels of that kind; I know we can adjust his diet and activities in ways that can have a profound effect without saddling him with a label. I don't want that burden for him. I suspect you could take almost child for an assessment and find they technically fit the ADHD spectrum. So most of what I read reassures me that he's a totally normal boy, especially active and energetic and imaginative so challenging in his own right, but not in any way off the spectrum of 'normal' - and then I look at the poor impulse-control, the aggression, the urge to zone out infront of the same old TV programme, the disregard he pays to normal discipline measures and I wonder if he's actually capable of behaving differently, if he's really got some kind of a problem filtering out the stream of stimulation that comes at him and sometimes seems to completely confound him. I wonder if everyone wonders about their kids like this? I look at Baby Brother and consider him easy by comparison, but then I realise the terrible twos haven't even touched him yet. Yikes.
The Baby Whisperer book about toddlers is my sanity at the moment and I'm learning as much about my own behaviour and how to adjust it as I am his. But most of all I just really want to love this kid and to enjoy the time we spend together; I really wish he'd stop making it such hard work.
Comments
They did get along by the time the other kids arrived (she has five).
They joined forces to terrorize their little sister rushing into her room and absconding with her baby dolls and making her cry.
Maybe all you need is a third? :)
A third?! Are you insane, woman? I'd rather eat my own eyeballs right now. Usually I'm desperate for more but lately having another baby has literally become the subject of my nightmares. I wake up in a cold sweat thanking the heavens that I don't have to face that for real!!!
They actually ADORE each other and inspite of myself I find the crazy dynamic between them endearingly cute... and yet it gives me grey hairs and makes me dream of long holidays alone...