Dreams with a Bite

Oh, T.Puzzle.  There were times when I was nicknaming you for this blog, that unfortunately words like shark and razor tooth were at the top of the heap.  As I went through the catalogue of your gifts and idiosyncracies, a fascination with using your chompers for evil was a strong contender for possible names.

So happy I went the puzzle route instead.

We all dream our children will find their passion.  We hope they excell at whatever they choose to endeavor.

One of T.Puzzle’s favorite endeavors is to bite his brother.

It didn’t start out this way.  He used to bite about anyone or anything in his path.

I told you he was gifted.

Thankfully, except for the rare attempt here and there on innocent bystanders, he now seems to mostly isolate his attacks on Full Speed.

Is it bad that I’m secretly grateful he is only biting his brother?

I feel if he keeps it in our family there’s less chance of a lawsuit.

What’s a Mom to do?

I wrote an extremely unfavorable behavior report for tae kwon do about his recent double-biting-brother escapades over Thanksgiving break.

Here’s how it went down:

“First, let’s commend little Bobby for helping his sister with the dishes,” exclaimed the instructor as he rattled off the first exemplary behavior report.

“Wow, great job to little Jenny for being polite and using her manners,” he continued.

It went on and on.  One after the other did something more extraordinary than the student before him.

Until…

we got to T.Puzzle and his report of biting doom.

And this was when my other dream of having a child stand out in a crowd was fully realized.

Maybe it’s time to start shopping around for some new dreams.

Over It

All Moms are familiar with the phenomenon that when one of your children is out of control, your remaining children become eerily angelic.  This is helpful because having one kid lose it is more than enough.

Then, there are the special days.  The days you are convinced that your children made some sort of evil pact to share the burden of dreadful behavior equally. Those are the days where all you can hope for is that you don’t lose your cool enough that the neighbors alert the authorities in some capacity.

First, it started with T.Puzzle.  He called his brother a ‘diaper head’ and ran screaming away and hid in a corner when I punished him for the name-calling.  I took away all of his stuffed animals and Thomas blanket and he screamed, “You’re mean!” at top volume.  This was later followed by a meltdown about sharing a toy riding car.  I had to carry him kicking and screaming to his room for punishment.

I could already feel how special the day was becoming.

He eventually pulled it together.

Great, I thought.  Now we can enjoy this awesome weather with friends and look forward to our dinner out with Mad Dog.

Post T.Puzzle meltdown. Miss Cutie enjoys the calm and a ride before Full Speed's turn to lose it.

Well,.. Full Speed decided to get in to the act.  He was glorious in his sassiness, which started because he lost a game of Red Light, Green Light.  The unfortunate power struggles and tantrums that ensued culminated in him screaming, “I never want to live in this house again!”  Oh, and he also hit me.  A knock-down, oh-no-he-didn’t veritable knick-knack patty-whack across my back.

We didn’t go to dinner (foiled again!!!), they went to bed so early I’m pretty sure I heard the faint whisperings of the five o’clock news in the background, and I dropped to my knees and prayed to my God (Supernanny) for guidance.

Some days are good, some days you wish you ‘never want to live in your house again!’, and some days are better when they are over.

Only Child

Over the weekend Mad Dog and I had the rare opportunity to spend some time with only T.Puzzle.  Full Speed went to Grandma’s and we kept T.Puzzle home.  He had a runny nose and we thought he shouldn’t be around the dogs at Grandma’s because he is so allergic to them.

Turns out, he rather enjoys being an ‘only’ child.  He behaved like an angel at the grocery and when we purchased him some popcorn chicken (the real kind, not the Mad Dog invented version), he held it to his chest so lovingly, you could almost see a shiny aura of goodness surround him.

When we got home, he said ‘Yes, ma’am!’ and ‘Yes, sir!’ to everything asked of him.

I’m wondering if the best solution to surviving the terrible threes is to only have one child in the home during this difficult period.

Any takers on Full Speed?

Why?

 

T.Puzzle during happier times

 

Like nails on a chalkboard.  That’s the only way I can describe T.Puzzle’s onslaught of questions concerning his assorted punishments.  I picked him up from school and when it was time to go, he decided that he wasn’t in the mood.  He dragged his sorry self down the hallway and folded into a heap of sorrow about half-way down.  I informed him that he would lose his crocs for tomorrow and would be sent to his room when we returned home.  He screamed at top volume all the way home.  This only lengthened the amount of time he would be spending in his room, expedited his bedtime hour and contributed to a loss of his other privileges.

After I managed to get Full Speed off to tae kwon do with Mad Dog, I allowed a seemingly defeated T.Puzzle to come to the table for dinner.

“Why can’t I have my Thomas (the Train) color book?”

“Why can’t I have my animals?”

“Why can’t I have my crocs?”

“Why can’t I have a treat?”

“Why can’t I watch TV?”

“Why can’t I stay up late?”

“Why?  Why?  Why?”

I tried to ignore him, but my ears couldn’t take it.  Not after all the high-volume screaming they had already endured.  I tried to tell him to be quiet.  I tried to calmly explain the reasons for the loss of his privileges.

Nothing worked except putting him to bed.

Early.

Very early.

Wha?

T.Puzzle had an interesting statement.

“I not cry at drop-off today, Mommy.”

Wha?

Did my often unpredictible, at times overly emotional, fully commited to the terrible threes child tell me he wasn’t going to throw a tantrum?

I’ve heard of out of body experiences.  This was mine.

My loyal readers will understand the magnitude of what T.Puzzle was saying to me.

My motherhood journey to this moment has been anything but easy.

And now, here we are.

Tearless drop-offs for T.Puzzle.

What’s next?

Armageddon?