True to form, he focused in on the box of toy cars and played with them on the mat for about thirty minutes.  To peel him away from that (because Scott did need to go to work today) we herded out to the playground with the promise of an Oreo cookie (they were serving them).  He ran around for a while, played on a few of the structures, and then I told him we needed to leave so he should get his cookie.

He begrudgingly got his cookie, begrudgingly walked to the car, and begrudgingly got into his seat.

He asked in the car: “Where are we going next?”

That question annoys the shit out of me.  It’s innocent enough, you would think, but he always has a motive in asking.  If you respond “Home” he’ll get pissed off and possibly throw a tantrum in the backseat.  (Usually he’ll start crying boo-hoo crocodile tears VERY loudly which sets Em off.  Makes AWESOME driving conditions.)  So, I responded: “Remember when I told you that Daddy has to go to work?  We’re going home so he can drive to work.  Also, Emmy needs to take a nap.”

He retorted: “But her eyes aren’t closed.  She’s not sleeping.”

I said (after a huge sigh): “It doesn’t matter.  We’re going home so she can get in her crib.”

Scott peeled him out of the car (one of Rosco’s frequent acts of disobedience is to refuse to get out of the car seat) and when he got in the house he was still holding that damned cookie.

I told him to eat it (otherwise he’d play with it and smear it into the floor or his clothes) or throw it away.  He stood there with a look of “bugger off” on his face for about a minute, so I told Scott to throw the cookie away (too damn early for cookies anyway).

Kid pitched a fit and tried to extract the cookie from the trash.  I in turn extracted his arm from the trash and sent him down to the t.v. room.

Snot-nosed tantrum ensued (at which point I made Scott leave for work - Rosco loves having an audience for tantrums).  So, I went down there and gave him some pretty strong warnings (and I don’t make threats I don’t follow through on).  I told him he’d have to stay in his room all day.  (More tantruming.)  I warned him again that if he behaved this way every time it was time to leave preschool that I’d pull him out.  (“No you won’t,” Scott said the first time I made that warning.  Yes, I will.  Preschool isn’t a requirement, dear one.)

It took him about 45 minutes to calm down.  He has tear tracks on his face and dried snot on his shirt.  He’s now playing and whistling.  And I have a headache.

I’m frazzled right now because he escalated the situation to the point where I was about to be apeshit crazy.  (He was trying to hurl the ottoman around.)  I’m running out of tactics.  I’m *thisclose* to resorting to a behavior chart just so he can be accountable for the way he acts.  I hate to have to bribe him to behave, but maybe if he sees on a chart that good behavior yields benefits he’ll be more inclined to mind.

I guess this wasn’t a post about preschool as much as it was about a preschool-related tantrum.

I know I’m not the only mom who has to deal with this kind of behavior behind the scenes, but it’s hard not to feel like an über-bitch when I have to put so much edge in my voice to get him to understand that I’m SERIOUS.  All I’m trying to do is raise a kid who acts like he has some common sense…and not a sense of entitlement.

[...I wonder how much longer I’ll be able to wear her.  Because I’m so freaking short I have a pretty tough time carrying babies over a certain age in slings and wraps because my torso is not particularly long.  The young’uns get tall and I can’t see over their heads (I also have this problem with grocery carts).  I’m going to have to figure out how to use the wrap to carry her on my side or back.  She still hasn’t developed the muscles she needs to keep her head upright all the time, though.  If I put her in a Bumbo seat or the like she’d be staring at her chest (doesn’t THAT sound fun?).]

Em also got her first round of vaccines today: oral Rotarix (which she tried to spit out), and three vaccine shots—Pentacel (DTAP-Hib-IPV combo), Hepatitis B, and pneumoccocal disease.  I was really worried that she would have a meltdown over the needles, but she actually didn’t get too worked up.  She did throw a bit of a fit over being placed on her back (she haaaaaaates being on her back the way some kids hate being on their bellies) and didn’t like that I was pinning her arms out of the way of her legs, but once I picked her up after the shots were given she stopped crying immediately.  She got two pink camo-print bandages on her thighs to make up for all that poking.

BOY, she is in a mood right now.  She was her usual cheerful self for a couple of hours and then all of a sudden *KABLOW!*  I remember it was the same way with Rosco: virtually inconsolable.  She looks so upset. :(

While we were at the pediatrician’s office Rosco got his ‘10/‘11 flu vaccine (intranasal for the first time).  I had no idea they started administering those this early in the year, but then again prior to now Rosco only ever went into the office in November and then six months later in May (if necessary).  Since he was tagging along today the doc suggested he get it because we have a baby in the house.  As he’ll be starting preschool in two weeks, getting that vaccine is probably smart.  He hasn’t had sustained exposure to a lot of kids since he came out of daycare, so his immune system is probably a bit “meh” right now.

I might as well wipe my to-do list off for the rest of the day.  Got a really pissed off baby to carry around.

(Continued…)

(He said that.  I don’t make this stuff up.)

I gave him a good stare and then he finally asked “Well, where do you want to go?”

I answered “I dunno…where do you want to go?”

“Don’t know.  Where do YOU want to go?”  We went around in circle like that for a while and then I brought up the subject of day trips—that I know people who go to the beach like every weekend during the summer.  He made a face (apparently he has something against beaches).  I suggested Busch Gardens, and he said that was a long weekend trip.  I let the subject drop and did some research over the week.

Friday after my ultrasound we went to Borders where I bought one of those Insiders’ Guides - Day Trips from Raleigh-Durham.  Did that meet a need or what?  We flipped through it and decided to visit Old Salem yesterday.  It’s an hour and a half from here and neither of us had ever been, so bada bing.

(Continued…)

Let me rewind.  Okay.  Excuse this slightly-medical digression.  (And remember - I’m not a doctor and I don’t even play one on t.v.)

(Continued…)

Well, basically it’s an inside joke—the kind where every time I think about it I laugh hysterically.  To be plain, though, you know how people always say that things are “Rainbows and _____” (where _____ is usually something like “unicorns” or “lollipops” or whatever)?  It’s sarcasm.  When applied to another person it means that person is completely naive and doesn’t know the bad shit going on around them.  When you use it to define your own circumstance it means “Yo, this really sucks.”

I can’t explain much beyond that.  Just know that every time I look at the page background I laugh manically.

*wink*

(Continued…)

Not bloody likely, dude.

He’s got a “big boy” room, but there’s enough fluff in there to squash that overall feeling.

(Continued…)