In fact, yesterday in the Williamses household was full of doodoo and unicorn vomit. Nice imagery, eh? What? You didn't think we had bad days in this house ... actually you wouldn't, since I have posted before of fighting with Oli, having a tough day and vowing to do better about not getting frustrated, not yelling ... I think I forgot all my mantras yesterday.
The day started off great with an ornament making play date at another mom's house. In fact, that went so well that Oli refused to leave and announced that he wanted to have lunch with that house. Got him out of the poor woman's house (Sorry!!!) and got home. That was when the planets misaligned, somebody spit on a photo of me or burned an effigy of me, or something. Because what we had after lunch folks, could only be described as a 180 turnaround in a complete we-need-an-Exorcist-right-now way.
What ensued was a battle of wills for 2 hours. I attempted to get him to lie down in bed, using everything possible - lies, threats, promises, cajoling - except for duct tape. Next time, I'll just use it. It'll be less painful and time consuming. I mean, the child took his favorite toys and threw them in the garbage can when presented with that awesome alternative to taking a nap. So, he refused to sleep and I refused to let him enjoy being up. Jeff was locked in our room asleep. I locked Oli's bedroom so he wouldn't have access to any of his toys or books. I lay on the couch and told him I needed a nap. For TWO hours, this stubborn child of mine just walked around the different rooms. Every few minutes, he came over and poked me. Climbed over me. Stood staring at me. TWO HOURS! Then, he comes to me at 3:20 pm and says he's ready to take a nap. VICTORY WAS MINE!
Except he lay down when he should have been waking up. Which meant, he woke up when he usually eats dinner. That's ok though. He had the promise of watching half of a Star Wars movie, since he woke up later than usual, to get him to eat. I made a gourmet plate of peanut butter and jelly on 7 grain toast, and served it with a chilled glass of milk liberally flavored with Strawberry Nesquick. And, we all sat down to watch how little Anakin became Darth Vadar. Oh, how I laugh now at my innocent hope. My childlike belief that like Santa, peace had come slithering down the chimney. I forgot that we have no chimney.
He kicked the plate to the ground. Refused to eat or drink. Or even sit. He wanted to stand on the couch and bounce around, falling over a few times. After he kicked the plate the dozenth time, the movie got turned off. Oh, how the floodgates opened. Oh, the horrors. He was on the ground, wailing in such plaintiff tones that I am surprised our neighbors haven't come over with condolences. Or called 911 on us.
By this time, it was clear no food or milk was going to pass through his lips and no words out of our mouth were making it past his ears. So, bedtime it was. Ever tried to dress an octopus high on PCP? No? Well, borrow my kid when he's on a tantrum and you'll be ready to deal with any multi-limbed entity high on narcotics. I finally managed to put pajamas on what seemed to suddenly be a double jointed and boneless toddler. I expected another fight over going to sleep. But, he proved to me how exhausted he was when he fell asleep after only 13 minutes of cries to the heavens which I can only imagine asked for bolts of lightning to hit his captors. Or his real parents to come find him.
Do parents keep a suitcase packed for nights like that where they ask the babysitter to come over and they just disappear? No? Come on, you have to have imagined it at least! Liars.
I didn't run away but I did mentally fortify me for what today would bring.
And, today brought us this:
I mean, I swear, it's like the kid had it penciled into his calendar for yesterday, "be on your absolute worst behavior, no matter what those parental units do or say."
We love you, Oliver, but let's have no days like yesterday and all days like today. Pretty please? With a strawberry on top.
The day started off great with an ornament making play date at another mom's house. In fact, that went so well that Oli refused to leave and announced that he wanted to have lunch with that house. Got him out of the poor woman's house (Sorry!!!) and got home. That was when the planets misaligned, somebody spit on a photo of me or burned an effigy of me, or something. Because what we had after lunch folks, could only be described as a 180 turnaround in a complete we-need-an-Exorcist-right-now way.
What ensued was a battle of wills for 2 hours. I attempted to get him to lie down in bed, using everything possible - lies, threats, promises, cajoling - except for duct tape. Next time, I'll just use it. It'll be less painful and time consuming. I mean, the child took his favorite toys and threw them in the garbage can when presented with that awesome alternative to taking a nap. So, he refused to sleep and I refused to let him enjoy being up. Jeff was locked in our room asleep. I locked Oli's bedroom so he wouldn't have access to any of his toys or books. I lay on the couch and told him I needed a nap. For TWO hours, this stubborn child of mine just walked around the different rooms. Every few minutes, he came over and poked me. Climbed over me. Stood staring at me. TWO HOURS! Then, he comes to me at 3:20 pm and says he's ready to take a nap. VICTORY WAS MINE!
Except he lay down when he should have been waking up. Which meant, he woke up when he usually eats dinner. That's ok though. He had the promise of watching half of a Star Wars movie, since he woke up later than usual, to get him to eat. I made a gourmet plate of peanut butter and jelly on 7 grain toast, and served it with a chilled glass of milk liberally flavored with Strawberry Nesquick. And, we all sat down to watch how little Anakin became Darth Vadar. Oh, how I laugh now at my innocent hope. My childlike belief that like Santa, peace had come slithering down the chimney. I forgot that we have no chimney.
He kicked the plate to the ground. Refused to eat or drink. Or even sit. He wanted to stand on the couch and bounce around, falling over a few times. After he kicked the plate the dozenth time, the movie got turned off. Oh, how the floodgates opened. Oh, the horrors. He was on the ground, wailing in such plaintiff tones that I am surprised our neighbors haven't come over with condolences. Or called 911 on us.
By this time, it was clear no food or milk was going to pass through his lips and no words out of our mouth were making it past his ears. So, bedtime it was. Ever tried to dress an octopus high on PCP? No? Well, borrow my kid when he's on a tantrum and you'll be ready to deal with any multi-limbed entity high on narcotics. I finally managed to put pajamas on what seemed to suddenly be a double jointed and boneless toddler. I expected another fight over going to sleep. But, he proved to me how exhausted he was when he fell asleep after only 13 minutes of cries to the heavens which I can only imagine asked for bolts of lightning to hit his captors. Or his real parents to come find him.
Do parents keep a suitcase packed for nights like that where they ask the babysitter to come over and they just disappear? No? Come on, you have to have imagined it at least! Liars.
I didn't run away but I did mentally fortify me for what today would bring.
And, today brought us this:
I mean, I swear, it's like the kid had it penciled into his calendar for yesterday, "be on your absolute worst behavior, no matter what those parental units do or say."
We love you, Oliver, but let's have no days like yesterday and all days like today. Pretty please? With a strawberry on top.
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