Tonight, after reading to the kids for 45 minutes (longer than usual, and they should know that and be thankful and BEHAVE), I said we were done and it was bedtime. Both kids asked to be carried to bed (we read books on Greg’s and my bed because there’s lots of room = less fighting). That’s fine, I often indulge this, as I know one day I’ll miss the days they wanted to be carried.
Anyway…to backtrack a bit, Amy had come to bed with three cars. Both of my children know whose cars they are, but I have no idea. At some point during story time all three of them ended up parked on me. Some time later during story time all three were gone. When I finished up and said it was bedtime, all hell broke loose. Amy now had two cars, Elliot had one, and Amy demanded that Elliot give the car back. Elliot walked away, car in hand. I had no patience (probably due to the fact that I hadn’t had dinner and it was now 8:30) and so I dealt with it by walking away. As you can imagine, that went over well. Actually, Elliot probably didn’t notice and Amy got quite upset. Now she was upset with me and Elliot.
I told them to work it out and I’d come tuck them in when they were done. Smart move, leaving your two tired kids to work it out on their own. I came downstairs, saw Elliot go back into the bedroom where Amy was, and then I heard a loud smack. Amy had whacked Elliot. Truthfully I felt he kind of deserved it because he was being a weenie, so I didn’t have a whole lot of sympathy. But I stomped back upstairs and demanded all three cars. Amy being Amy gave hers up right away and Elliot said (repeatedly) that he didn’t have the other one. I said (repeatedly) that I didn’t care where it was, but he needed to go and get it.
I don’t remember what happened then. It doesn’t matter. Sometimes I can sail through these times without losing my cool, and sometimes I get so angry I can’t think straight. The end result was two kids climbing into bed crying, each of them asking for something, and I was so mad I told them both I didn’t feel like doing anything for them right then.
After a few minutes I went into Elliot’s room to talk to him, and when I told him he should have given the car back to Amy, his response was “well she didn’t say please”. This kid has an attitude already. And my gut reaction is to argue with him. Which is pointless. But when I disengage (which really is the more adult thing to do) it doesn’t seem to do anything.
There’s no real point to this post…I think I decided to write it because I knew I’d be able to get it out quickly, and I want to go to bed and end this day. There’s so much I could say about parenting and the struggles I’m having with Elliot, his temper, his meltdowns, my immature need to argue back to him because I know I’m right…but perhaps not the ideal way to end my day.
Instead I’ll go and look at them both sleeping peacefully and know that tomorrow is a new day.