This morning my daughter asked for a red popsicle for breakfast. Actually, that’s not quite how the conversation went:
RR: I want a posicle.
Me: We don’t eat popsicles for breakfast. Would you like blueberries or eggs?
RR: NO! I want a POSICLE! A RED ONE!
Me: I’m sorry. We don’t eat popsicles for breakfast. Would you like these blueberries?
My wife: How about yogurt?
Me: I didn’t offer her that! It’s not on offer! This is just like the other day!
Moment of silence wherein I realize I sound like an asshole but also don’t want to sound like I’ll give the breakfast table terrorist anything she wants and so continue on even though I feel bad, my wife probably feels bad, and RR feels…
RR, sobbing and tugging her ample cheeks miserably: I WANT A POSICLE, MAMA! POSICLE!
RR, dissolving into a puddle of tears: PEES!
Me: I can see you’re sad. Are you sad?
RR, duh: YEEEEES.
Me: You’re sad because you want a popsicle for breakfast?
RR, sobs abating: Yes.
Me: I’m so sorry you’re feeling sad. Would you like my blueberries instead?
And you can imagine how successful THAT was. The worst part was, I’m totally down with popsicles at breakfast! I’m a breakfast pie enjoyer myself. I’d much rather pour delicious sweets into my mouth in the morning than eggs and blueberries. Alas, I am also obsessed with consistency and once the “no” had sprung from my lips I refused to cave.
We’ve definitely been struggling with my desire to be consistant with what we tell RR – over time and as individuals – and D’s desire to stop the whining and get a smile. Eventually we’ll find some sort of middle ground but this whole parenting gig isn’t for the weak of heart (or of relationship). I’m constantly grateful for the solid base we’ve built upon.
In other news, the IUI was Sunday and my body has responded to it reasonably instead of cramping and swelling and generally acting like an asshole. And now we wait.
Filed under: Third Year | Tagged: coping, introducing rr, M/D |
“This whole parenting gig isn’t for the weak of heart (or of relationship).” Truer words were never written. You’ve illustrated it perfectly (and funnily) with this story. Love it.
All the things I would have thought would be difficult turned out to be okay. This one was surprising though, given my wife’s desire to make me happy as often as possible, I could have anticipated it. Since that meant ice cream after dinner last night, I can’t really knock it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtiJAexxSPo You’ve probably seen this, if not it’s pretty funny. A dad’s conversation with his two year old – about cookies.
I hadn’t seen that one but I love the series – thanks for reminding me!
On a more serious note, we often come down on the side of “just not arguing” with Noah, which means we give in. Now, he’s not really all that demanding. We say he’s a really great kid right up until he’s not, then he’s more hard-headed than even we are. But it also just has to do with his still limited communication skills.
We always refer to it as our hill to die on (or not). I’ve been known to shout I’M NOT GOING TO DIE ON THIS HILL. NOT TODAY! (not at RR but in the direction of my wife) who may or may not be assuming I’m the one who is going to continue trying to convince my child that shoes are required when picking up dog poop.
I’m totes you, and Rebeca your wife. *sigh*
It’s hard being the consistent one!! But one day when they aren’t in juvie, we’ll know it’s all because of us! 🙂
Keep telling me that because I would seriously love to be the good guy. Maybe today! I always have hope.
Mine started yelling at me in the street last night in front of the house as I was talking to a neighbor because I wouldn’t let her have ice cream for dinner. She just spent the weekend at my aunt & uncle’s having ice cream for breakfast every day (banana splits my uncle assured me, so there was fruit involved and therefore, healthy) so the fact that I don’t let her have ice cream for dinner is just further proof that I am the meanest most awful mother around.
She & RR could totally have a pity party together.
I keep my tiny violins around just for that purpose. Let the pity party commence!
I think in our household I’m the one more likely to indulge in the first place (what the hell, Mommy wants a popsicle for breakfast too… or better yet, brownies), but, having said no, more likely to stick with it. Mostly we’re pretty close to the same page, though. Same chapter, anyway. At the very least, we’re in the same book.
My mom likes to say of being a parent that it’s a great life, if you don’t weaken.
Brownies for breakfast…oh, I can’t wait til the morning!
Oh Meredith! This is my life!!!!! Almost every morning he demands a Popsicle and it has NEVER worked out for him. Not once. And still he sallies forth. I wish I had that kind of single minded commitment. And…..yay babies!!!! Make that baby. Singular. 😉
Every time I think of Yogi sallying forth I quietly crack up. I’m pretty sure my wife is wondering what’s wrong with me.
Just started following your blog. Love this post. My partner and I are both teachers and I must say, you handled that like a pro! I taught severely emotionally disturbed kids for several year (not saying your daughter is, stick with me here, lol) and I dunno if that was just awesome parenting or if you have actually been trained in de-escalation tactics… hehe. “I see that you are sad…” Loved it! Anyways, my partner caves into our dogs, so wish me luck! I am just like you, once I have put my foot down, I am fully commited! Your little one is adorable…. Good job moms!
Thanks! No special training which is why I suspect she is able to use her super powers to resist me! She loves hearing us acknowledge her feeling though, it gets us much further than I ever expected.
Don’t we all love that though! 🙂