Saturday, June 11, 2011

Things you think your child should appreciate (but they don't)

I'm learning (albeit very slowly) that the more work I put into something, and the more I think Joseph will like it, the less he will care.

Breakfast? I know, let's make pancakes! Sure it dirties every measuring cup in the house, take 30 minutes, and happens at the precise time of the day that I hate doing anything but lying on the couch, but Joseph loves to help cook, loves to eat pancakes. He will LOVE it!

Queue meltdown as I begin preparing (after making the mistake of telling him we'd make pancakes - if I say we're going to eat something, he wants it NOW). Then more meltdowns as I won't make a puzzle, do stickers, or anything else fun with him while I'm trying not to burn a million pancakes. Finally, the pancakes are done. But he decides to throw his fork. I'm starting to hardline on this behavior, so now he's fork-less. He won't eat with his fingers (I know, right?) and doesn't care to be fed by me when his fork is on the floor (only when he has his own utinsels - in which case he's incapable of using them himself), so he gets about 1/2 a pancake down between bouts of whining. Gee, that was worth it.

But hey, it's only 8:30am! There is a WHOLE day of fun to be had! Why don't we go to the Botanical Garden and run around?

"Stroller, stroller, stroller, stroller, stroller" (Imagine this said about 10,000 more times in a row, because I'm trying to get him to walk instead of sit through an entire morning. I guess I should be grateful that he doesn't want to run away from me, but half the point is to get out and get exercise, right? Aren't toddlers supposed to have an independent streak?

No matter, now he should take a great nap after lunch, since he's been well fed and had lots of fresh air.

But noooooo, today is the day where he falls asleep the last 3 minutes him in the car, and thus refuses to nap. Which is fine and dandy, until about 5:30pm. Then not only is he exhausted, but he is HUNGRY, and the short order cook (that'd be me) apparently didn't get his explicit request for food. That explicit request, by the way, is running around like a banshee and basically acting like a normal toddler. So all of a sudden we go from smiles to demon-child and I have approximately 3 minutes to figure out what he'll eat (because it changes hourly) and get it on the table before I *really* start regretting life.

Finally, bedtime. He's had a rough day, and I feel bad for him. He loves to read books, and always pushes to read more than the his quota of 3. So tonight, I read him a collection of FOUR Thomas books, in addition to the regular three, because hey, he'd appreciate it, right? Nooooooo. Apparently I'm supposed to read 4,000 extra books or my efforts mean nothing. Should've just stuck with the same 3 boring books we always read.

The only sweet relief I get is my reliable hug and kiss before bedtime, and the knowledge that tomorrow is a completely boring, normal day, without anything but cheerios for breakfast, a playdate, a regular nap, and playing trains around the house while mom cooks and cleans.

Thank goodness for boring days.


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