(I hate to start off with something so hostile, but if you’re visiting from Lovablejill, GO THE FUCK AWAY. This is NOT that kind of sick, twisted writing)
… and occasionally falling flat on my face.
A “discussion” with Cameron last night. The scene is after supper, he’s playing with his trains, and has already once laid down on the floor and said, “Sleepy.”
Mommy: Hear the tub, Cameron? It’s almost bath time. Quick bath then you can go to bed.
Mommy: Mommy’s going to turn off the water in the tub, and then it’s bath time.
Mommy, after coaxing Cameron to the bathroom: Time to get in, let’s get your pants off.
Cameron: AAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK NO WAY! NO WAY NO WAY! Pants ON! On on ooooOOOOOoooNnNNNNNNn! Pants ON! SOOOOOBBBBBB! NOOOo PANTS! STAY! ON! STAY! ON! OONNNNNNNN! PANTS ON!!!!!!!!!
After a struggle over his sweater (too tight for me to just yank off thanks to a zipper and he’s holding it with the Grip of Death), a time out for both our benefits, more struggles, I PLUNKED HIM IN THE TUB. The only article of clothing I’d successfully removed in fifteen minutes of screaming was his pants.
I probably should’ve gotten his diapers off first.
The plan for tonight is 1) arrive home, 2) start the tub 3) give him a chance to eat however much he’ll eat, 3) bath 4) THEN play with toys, watch some of Happy Feet or Cars. What are my chances of getting through tonight without any major power struggles?
Who am I kidding. Zero chance. He’s two.
Actually, the evening was relatively meltdown-free. A minor one over “Mommy read story!” while it was supper time. When I’d refused for five minutes straight, a very upset little boy threw the book across the room. Oops. Wonder where he learned that one from? A half-hearted repeat of the undressing woes. Rusty, I’ll try the game idea, thanks! I’m a master of the silly and out-of-tune songs, too. “Mommy, no singing!” can be met with, “Well then, you’d better help get undressed then, I’ll stop when you’re bare!” But for tonight, a reminder that if he keeps fighting he’ll wind up in the tub still dressed again, and a promise that boobie and bed were right after bath sufficed. His response to the threat of another fully clothed dunking was, “DIAPER OFF! DIAPER OFF FIRST!” He was really horrified and grossed out by the soggy weight of a bath-dunked diaper I think! After bath we had a nice cuddle and playtime while watching Happy Feet. “Remember when all the penguins jump in the water? Yeah? When they do that, it’s time to tidy up and it’s boobie time.” This worked WAY better than “Five minutes!” He didn’t even bat an eyelash. I didn’t have to sing the tidy up song. He helped put the traintracks and trains away, and turned off the TV himself. Wheee! Oh, and I got a sleepy “Love you mommy.” as I kissed him and said goodnight. That is pure happiness, right there.