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Thursday, May 26, 2011

Grumpy and....well, just Grumpy

Dallas is Grumpy.  He's not just cranky or crabby; he's full on GRUMPY.  Very few things make Dal happy anymore.  He bites, he hits, he kicks, he cries, he stomps his feet, he yells, and he is generally disagreeable.  I know he's two years old; I get it.  But I'm SO ready for this phase to be over.  I mean, I just went through this with Lottie a scant few months ago.  I should get a break.



Let me give you an example of a typical day.  Dallas wakes up in the morning and is generally mad about something.  He refuses everything I offer him for breakfast, and believe you me, Dallas is not a kid who can go without eating.  When he finally eats, things get better for a little while, but usually the fighting with Lottie begins early.  He snatches toys out of her hands about every ten minutes, sometimes giving her a brisk smack on the head just as an added bonus.  After playing that scene over and over for a few hours, we get to replay the breakfast scene again at lunch.  More crying, more hitting, more tantrums, more pinching, more, more, more.  There is very little eating at dinner, constant demands to watch TV which turn into LOUDER demands when I deny him, and finally, the sweet heaven of bedtime.

This morning, everything seemed fine.  I should have known that Dal was lulling me into a false sense of security.  We read a book and snuggled together before breakfast, and he even told me that I was "the best woman he ever had."  Maybe a slightly disturbing statement but still sweet.  Things went downhill after that.  He did eat breakfast - hooray - but then he started throwing a fit about his shoes.  I was glad it was a school day because I got to send him off for his teachers to try to contain.  When I picked him up from school, his teacher told me he was fine and hadn't been crabby all day.  Nice.  As soon as we got home, the insanity began again.  He asked for oatmeal as a snack then refused to eat it when I made it because he was too busy playing ghost.  He hit Lottie three or four times, and he apparently did something to annoy Judy because she took a swat at him.  After I got him calmed down from that trauma, he flung himself into the kids' bathroom and slammed the door.  I didn't hear any noise, so I figured he was just taking a moment to calm down.  It wasn't until a full five minutes later that Lottie casually informed me that Dallas was stuck in the bathroom.  By the time I got to him, the waterworks had begun anew and his nose was running like a faucet.  There was another shoe fit, and then BOTH kids started crying.  Sheesh.  My poor dad got caught in the middle of the hubbub when he came to watch Dallas so I could take Lottie to get her hair cut.  Dallas "throwed a fit" and wanted to go to the salon, too, so we packed everyone into the minivan.  About halfway to Alure Salon and Day Spa, my little man fell asleep in the car.  My dad graciously stayed in the car so Dallas could continue his nap.  He slept for about an hour and only woke up when Lottie and I came back to the car.  Things were better after that, though he still gets pretty physically aggressive when he's tired or frustrated.  He's very verbal, and he knows how to express his anger, but I think sometimes he just reacts without thinking.  Gee, that's so unusual for a kid.

He still asks me to snuggle with him at night when I'm putting him to bed, so all is not lost.  My sweet Dallas is buried underneath the frustration and need/desire to be independent.  All I can do is (try to) stay calm and keep hugging my boy to let him know that I'll always be here for him.  I can also cross my fingers that his future spouse will potty train him and make him chicken nuggets every day.

1 comment:

  1. I am still cracking up about Dallas calling you "the best woman he ever had."

    Plus, I'm also loving the mental imnage of a grown-up Dallas asking his wife to make him chicken nuggets every night. Maybe he should get married to Frankie and they could have a constant nugget feast, with trucks from Tyson's backing up to a converted coal chute in the back of their house? (It would work as long as Dallas would also be willing to eat unlimited Eggo waffles for breakfast every morning.)

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