I was going to write about how it’s been one of those days in relation to yesterday, but then I thought to the day before, and hell, it’s been a busy week between Ian’s 2-year check-up which went really, really well, and his allergist appointment which went fine–no change in anything and I failed at being on time by 20 minutes and luckily the woman was forgiving when she saw what I was juggling. Plus, she is in my shoes–with an almost 2 year old and expecting her second this fall. And I am so not the type to use the “I have a new baby” excuse for anything or anyone. It just isn’t how I role, to make excuses. I was late.
But yesterday was hard. We had my postpartum appointment which also went really well, and we were on time, but they weren’t. We sat in the waiting room for 40 minutes and Ian was an angel in the beginning and then quickly tested me with the usual: finding a pen and then threatening to write on surfaces he shouldn’t (but he writes on these surfaces at home!), running over to the water cooler and touching the hot water nozzle. Nothing like barking at your 2 year old as you nurse your newborn so that said 2 year old doesn’t go burning his fingers and hand! And then it was the attempt to climb the table they had with magazines after throwing all said magazines to the wayside. The only control I could get of him with Arthur nursing is to make Ian sit in a chair if he wanted a snack and that worked for a bit…at least he’s been to that office and to lots of my OB appointments so I knew what to expect when we actually saw the doctor…
But it wasn’t until after we met Bub and his old friend for lunch after the appointment and nervously giggled/frowned upon Ian’s throwing of food at US (a couple of French fries, but still), that Ian got into a groove of doing everything he shouldn’t when we got home:
- drawing on the furniture with crayon
- throwing food on the floor
- throwing food on the floor and stepping on it
- knowing that he needs to say sorry but says “thank you” or something else on purpose while smiling his devilish grin
- throwing toys very close to us or at us (us being me and Arthur), and almost hitting us
I ask him if he wants to do a time out (not that he has a choice) and he even says yes! So yeah. I tried to get him to calm down so many times yesterday. He won’t sit long in a chair if we do a time out that way, and his time out’s are for a couple of minutes anyway, so by the time we talk about him staying seated, it should be over. The only way I’ve sort of gotten through to him a few times is by putting him in his room, shutting the door and walking away. If I close the door enough, he can’t open it and that really irked him, but now he’s just lying in his bed and he has a ton of toys in his room so I feel like it’s not working anymore and who wants to run up and down stairs to do time out’s every time you need to?
I know a handful or less of you read this, but if anyone has a good trick to stop the madness, please let me know. I know he’s not getting away with this at school or else we’d hear about it, I think. And to top it off, Ian refuses to clean up things like toys, but I know he knows how to do this; I’ve seen him do it at school. They have a song and everything which we sing at home, but it doesn’t seem to matter when he’s with us. It’s dump, dump, dump everything and I get to pick it all up!
tired itsy bitsy mama