He has been obsessed with hotels lately. We had a houseguest a couple weeks ago, and he added some "amenities" to her room--extra towels, magazines (with a bookmark!), pad and pencil, etc. I had already put a candy dish in the room, but he added Skittles on the pillows :). It was totally adorable, and fortunately my friend appreciated his efforts. This morning, he tried to turn my bedroom into a hotel room. He made my bed (awesome!). He put lotion samples on my dresser (wonderful!). He nicely placed bath towels and washcloths in different parts of the room (which I will have to put back later, but whatever...).
But then he tried to move things on my dresser to a different location, under the guise of cleaning up. I asked him not to, and he burst into tears. I explained that those things were there for a reason. He pointed out those things had been there "for years" and that they probably really belonged somewhere else. Well, he may be right, but when I'm rushing around in the morning looking for something the last place I left it--even if it might technically "belong" somewhere else--and I can't find it, I won't be a happy camper. So I asked him not to move the items in order to ensure future peace. He sniffled for awhile longer, refused to eat breakfast, and then got upset all over again when his hair wasn't quite right. As soon as he was on his way out the door to the bus stop, though, he was fine.
Another incident occurred on Monday night. I kept my cool until he told me I was the worst mom in the world; then he got sent to his room. Of course I'm not a perfect parent. But what I did on Monday was far from heinous. Actually, I didn't do anything at all, and my son still managed to blame everything on me (I swear he is going to be a lawyer or a politician). I was joking with him on the way home from day care and said he better remind his dad about Mother's Day. He started to whine about not knowing what to get me. He said he had a good idea, but he did not know if his dad could help. He came out and told me the idea, and I told him how his dad could assist him. He wanted to put together a special photo album, so I said I would explain to his dad how to get pictures printed (of course he could figure it out on his own--but I would make it easier for everyone involved by giving him my password to my photo account, etc.). I guess my son does not have much faith in his father, because he became convinced he could not do it. And that became my fault--because I did not "teach" my husband how to order pictures from our Walmart photo account. A flurry of tears ensued. This exchange occurred during a 10-minute car ride.
So we get home, and Alex starts scurrying around and says he's putting together an early Mother's Day gift in the office. I am not permitted to enter. But then he needs me to find something for him--something that's in the office. I cover my eyes and walk blindly to the closet in the office. I turn around so I cannot see what Alex is working on, find what he needs, cover my eyes, and leave the room. But Alex is convinced I saw what he was doing. Then he realizes his removal of an item from the kitchen was a clue to his gift. Again, this was all my fault. Hot, angry tears ensued.
He must have wanted to really blame me for everything, because he asked me if I remembered our conversation the other day about hiding his sister's birthday gifts. He wanted to know how I managed to hide gifts from him. Of course I did not tell him. So on Monday night, during his crying fit, he said I was at fault because I did not tell him how to hide gifts from other people. And that made me the worst mom in the world. Oy.
Maybe he will get all this angst out of his system now and his teenage years will be a piece of cake. Or maybe I'll just keep dreaming.
Another incident occurred on Monday night. I kept my cool until he told me I was the worst mom in the world; then he got sent to his room. Of course I'm not a perfect parent. But what I did on Monday was far from heinous. Actually, I didn't do anything at all, and my son still managed to blame everything on me (I swear he is going to be a lawyer or a politician). I was joking with him on the way home from day care and said he better remind his dad about Mother's Day. He started to whine about not knowing what to get me. He said he had a good idea, but he did not know if his dad could help. He came out and told me the idea, and I told him how his dad could assist him. He wanted to put together a special photo album, so I said I would explain to his dad how to get pictures printed (of course he could figure it out on his own--but I would make it easier for everyone involved by giving him my password to my photo account, etc.). I guess my son does not have much faith in his father, because he became convinced he could not do it. And that became my fault--because I did not "teach" my husband how to order pictures from our Walmart photo account. A flurry of tears ensued. This exchange occurred during a 10-minute car ride.
So we get home, and Alex starts scurrying around and says he's putting together an early Mother's Day gift in the office. I am not permitted to enter. But then he needs me to find something for him--something that's in the office. I cover my eyes and walk blindly to the closet in the office. I turn around so I cannot see what Alex is working on, find what he needs, cover my eyes, and leave the room. But Alex is convinced I saw what he was doing. Then he realizes his removal of an item from the kitchen was a clue to his gift. Again, this was all my fault. Hot, angry tears ensued.
He must have wanted to really blame me for everything, because he asked me if I remembered our conversation the other day about hiding his sister's birthday gifts. He wanted to know how I managed to hide gifts from him. Of course I did not tell him. So on Monday night, during his crying fit, he said I was at fault because I did not tell him how to hide gifts from other people. And that made me the worst mom in the world. Oy.
Maybe he will get all this angst out of his system now and his teenage years will be a piece of cake. Or maybe I'll just keep dreaming.
Hooray for your blog! Now, just post some pictures and you're done. :-)
ReplyDeleteReading your blog is so darn entertaining, Amy! I think you should start looking for a publisher.
ReplyDeleteThis story reminds me of the day we were driving out to Jacob's preschool for an evening event. We lived in Park Forest at the time, which of course has many entrances and exits. I was in the habit of going one particular way, but on this night, Tom (Daddy) was driving. Lo and behold he proceeded to take a different way out and Jacob's anxiety visibly and audibly rose. "Dad, I think you're going the wrong way." "Jacob, there is more than one way to get there. I know where I'm going." Sure enough, at the next turn, the road Tom chose was actually CLOSED for repairs. "Mom, I told you he doesn't know what he's doing!!" We made it in time, but I think this incident sealed the deal with respect to whether or not a "Mom Test" actually exists :-)
Keep writing, girl!