My cell phone smells like coffee and my TV smells like Dr. Pepper.
Drew is finally feeling better after a week-long knock-down-drag-out battle with some kind of virus. Unfortunately, we have traded in the bad bug for a bad attitude.
This past week has been filled with drama and temper tantrums, and a flair for the mischievous.
Yesterday, we stopped by the mall to pick out a birthday present for a friend. I allowed Drew to pick out a long plastic tube filled with candy at the register because he'd been very obedient and good during our shopping excursion. My only condition was that he had to wait until we got to the car to open his package.
We briefly stepped into Ann Taylor Loft (SALE!) on our way out of the mall, which is where my son figured out how to untape the top of the tube all by himself. When I gently reminded him that the lid must stay on the package until we got out to the car, he gently reminded me that he preferred to eat the candy "NOW!".
Meeting my own stern gaze with equal resolve, he promptly removed the cap and dumped the 575 small pieces of candy all over the hard wood floors of the Loft. (I was actually impressed with how far that many pieces of candy can scatter in just a few seconds.) After a quick clean-up and an apology to the store manager, I escorted my son out of the store and toward the car. In an all-out effort to save himself from punishment, he screamed at the top of his lungs the ENTIRE WAY OUT OF THE MALL, kicking when I held him, falling to the floor when I made him walk.
And this morning, I was enticed to "...come see the beautiful new picture I drawed for you, mommy!"
In his hand he held a mushed up tube of Dr. Pepper flavored chapstick (hey, I'm off the soda for 15 days now, I get my fix wherever I can... it's not cheating!).
I quickly followed him to the living room, where he had created a lovely circle, which was completed colored in and several squiggly lines across the huge screen of our television.
"Oh, no you didn't!" was the gist of my response. To his credit, I'm sure he was expecting something a little more encouraging, like "... tell me about your pretty picture. What was your inspiration with the big globs over here?"
Completely shocked by my reaction to his masterpiece, Drew erupted into tears and began shrieking. I'll spare the details of the next 20 minutes, but I will tell you that the whole episode finally resulted in a call to our Pediatrician.
Yes, I called the doctor because my son was throwing a fit. With a few hours of perspective, I actually give the nurse a lot of credit for carrying on a conversation with me without laughing.
"Hello. My son was very sick last week and now he's really acting very bad."
How old is he, maam.
"Three. And I know that three-year olds are difficult. But I'm just a little concerned because he was sick last week and I'm hoping that there's a disease out there that begins with a high fever and is followed by a week of temper tantrums."
Well... I guess...
"I mean, maybe it's the medication, right? I've heard that medication can alter a child's behavior."
Yes, that could definitely affect his moods.
"Good! That's what I thought. So, by Monday, we should have our boy back."
Well, I guess we'll have to see on Monday.
"Also... he's been very hungry and thirsty lately. Is there any advice you can give me for that."
You should feed him and give him something to drink.
"Yes, yes... that's a great idea. Well, you've been incredibly helpful."
As a side-note, my cell phone fell into my cup of coffee while I was driving down the road the other day. I'm sure it has nothing to do with my son's behavior this week, but now my phone is throwing some pretty mighty tantrums, too. Which makes it fit in perfectly around our house these days.
2 comments:
Is it completely horrible that some of this post had me laughing? :) I mean, I could feel your frustration and angst, but it was like, "just when I thought it couldn't get any worse . . . "
Bless you, Jenny, and your beautiful, growing boy. :) <3
I have 100% been there with my almost 2 year old! The week we brought the baby home was so bad, I was dosing her with Tylenol because I was sure that she must have some wicked pain of some sort to be acting like she was acting! Hang in there and hide the Chapstick!
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