Ghost Blogger
Though I have been too busy adjusting to being a Summer Mummy to write much, every so often I check this blog as if to see what I have written in my own absence. That would be something, wouldn’t it? To have a ghost blogger that could just write my posts while I am tearing about greater Philadelphia entertaining small children and their friends? Ah well, no luck there. I shall just have to carry on writing posts myself.
While I did not feel particularly un-busy during the school year, I now remember what it was like to have children around all the time, to have to set limits all the time, to have to come up with activities all the time and be patient all the time. The children – Daniel especially – are finding the new freedom and lack of structure difficult to adjust to. He has been the sort of holy terror that makes me despair. I wonder fairly constantly at the moment what I am doing wrong, what is going on in that brain and heart of his and what what what I can do better to make him happier (and, she admitted guiltily, make him easier to deal with). I don’t like having someone in the house whose main activity is arguing. For example, I suggested that we go to the garden to water and that, since it was a hot day, we could have an ice cream afterwards. “Where?” he demanded, with a face that would, as my mother says, put dogs to fight. “At the ice cream store,” I answered reasonably calmly (but had to take a deep breath not to snap back). “Aaaaaagh,” he howled. “We NEVER buy ice cream from the ice cream van. Everyone hates me!”
Honestly, why offer ice cream at all if that is the response? I informed him that he was quite welcome to have no ice cream at all if that was how he felt, but that if ice cream was being purchased, it would be from the store. He grumped that he wouldn’t have any then, which I didn’t feel the need to argue with.
Everything is like that at the moment. It’s like having a tiny teenager in the house (at least, what I imagine teenagers to be like) but worse since a teenager would occasionally leave to be with their friends.
What am I doing wrong?
SM, You gave exactly the response that I, as well as other sensible mothers, would give. Sure, you could have cajoled, or tried to “jolly him up” (which does work, occasionally when my 3 year old gets testy), ignored his protests, or just given in and gotten ice cream from the ice cream van. I mean, really, who cares where the ice cream comes from, right?
But you demonstrated to Daniel that his protests do not penetrate your will, and that is more important, and a longer last message, than ice cream.
Daniel is developing his own will. He is questioning you, he is pushing your authority, he is thinking. This is what he should be doing.
Remember that who our children are are not an amalgam of all the things we did right and wrong. They are, themselves, people, with opinions, thoughts, wills, and ideas.
There’s no doing wrong. There’s only doing what we think it right. Hang in there.
Isn’t it crazy that a kid would turn down ice cream at all? I would definitely have him tested for some sort of ice cream gene deficiency. If I was very angry and frustrated, I’d just want ice cream MORE. Who can figure them out?
AARGH. We are living parallel lives at the moment. I don’t have any insight to offer–just a little sympathy!
I’m going to be in downtown Philly Tu-Th next week. I know to visit Rosie’s and Loop. Any other suggestions? (Since food is my other obsession, or at least one of my other obsessions, I’ll be eating at the White Dog as well….)
From my experience working with (other peoples’) children, I’d say you gave a wonderful response. However, as the kid who never got ice cream from the ice cream truck & was summarily shunned & teased for it, I feel for stuntson. I have a long way to go before my own gets there (Boogermonkey’s still at the “crawl around and whine when Mama takes the carpet fluff out of his mouth” stage), but I want to say that I think you’re doing a great job with yours.
I think you did exactly the right thing. Keith came up with this sort of baffling answer every now and then, and I responded the same way. Oh, okay then, no ice cream for you. Check. I’d love to say he never does it now – but he does. He just catches on faster (and in this case, would shortly find himself agreeing that ice cream from the store is better than no ice cream).
It does bring you up short some days, though – those little outbursts of theirs. The teens I have currently don’t do this, though they might say something like, “Um, could we get it from the van? Why not – everyone else does? Oh, okay. Fine. I’ll take it from the store…” (as though they are doing me a favor??). I don’t get any “everyone hates me!” from the teens, because, um, I’d probably laugh at them if they did that. The good news: you can do that when they’re teens! You have to hold it in with a little guy.
Again – you’re doing great!
My son is going through the same thing. You aren’t doing anything wrong. Could he possibly be around 8 years old? Buddy is 8 (and a half, as he always adds) and is very easily irritated and makes faces of disgust regularly. It gets better (some days) but it can be so frustrating.
Isn’t charming how kids use words like “never”, “everyone”, and “hate(s)”? “But”, “always”, and “last” are on that list of charming words. As in “But I’m always last!” “But she/he/they/(everyone else in the universe but me) always get to and I never do!”
Then there are the, thankfully, seldom used phrases:
“You’re not nice”
“You’re mean”
“I hate you”
All of this charm is directed at the primary caregiver as a youthful way of forming arguments and practicing emotional manipulation. But parents are on to their socially savvy ways and keep our tempers while trying not to laugh.
Sounds like you have a perfectly well-rounded normal 8 year old!!
Maybe a summer day camp to help him feel the structure but doing something fun?
Hey you –
I’m there with you. My daughter does the same thing. There are times when a kid needs to have a better attitude.
Just a thought: Liz K. commented who cares where icecream comes from? Well, apparently Daniel does. It could be a moment of good communication if you can set aside the frustration and ask him WHY it is so important to get icecream from the van – you can turn it into a great conversation. You might learn something and you’ll certainly change the trojectory of the conversation. The great thing is this: you still don’t neccesarily having to acquiesce.
Cheers.
We go through the ice cream truck battle all the time. For what three treats costs from the truck, I can buy 1/2 gallon of decent (not gourmet) ice cream from the grocers.
They’re finally learning the math but they’re a little wistful when they see every kid in the ‘hood running for a least one of the four trucks a day what come through.
You did exactly the right thing btw. Kids have to learn they don’t rule the roost and if it takes a tantrum or two, that’s what it takes. Give in once and you get to do it over and over.
You are being a goodly mother and are the bearer of a goodly lesson for the eight year old who is still being in need of learning the placeement of all of the boundaries that are being in place around him. I am also being in agreement with the man who is snarfing coffee that is being in Cincinnati: it is being an opportunity to be finding out what is being that attractions that are thought desirable in the ice-cream that is b eing sold in a van. That is all I am wanting to be saying.
Whenever my son starts acting like that, I tell him he can’t speak to me like that and put him in time-out or spank him.
But my way may not be right. His attitude does seem to adjust though. It’s only after I spoil him for a week does the brattiness begin… It’s like a cycle, but it gets to be less frequent the more consistent I am.
I think consistency is the key. Otherwise they’ll always test you.
Ask Wayne Dyer, he’ll tell you. Haha. Just kidding.
I totally hear you. I tell Aidan that he is being “contrary” all the time, and I need him to stop. I don’t even think he knows he’s doing it.
Daniel and Aidan would be two peas in a pid I swear.
We could knit and they could contradict eachother all day.
oh my god. i worte two peas in a pid. A pid.
I’m sure you knew what I meant.