Sunday, September 19, 2010

Son, you can't throw your toys...

Jamieson is 21 months old now and much has happened in that time. But suffice to say he is still often cranky and is going through the "terrible twos" early. Thats pretty much par for course with him, he seems advanced in so many ways.

Yesterday I was trying to talk to him about throwing his toys (I sternly told him not to throw his toys in the house, put him down, and turned my back on him) and he had a pretty bad meltdown. Now when it's just he and I, we work this sort of thing out and often he is mostly over in a short time. I always still feel like a jerk for having made him cry, but I also get over it eventually. This time however, was different. We are staying at Katy's parents house and he has had more freedom and far less lessons of this nature for over a week. He has been quite pampered and had few restrictions. People just want to keep him happy and I understand that. So when I decided to put my foot down about behavior we are trying to shape in a positive way, he did NOT like it. He screamed bloody murder in front of both of Katy's parents and her brother and nothing I did could calm him down. He just kept crying Moma over and over, which tears me up inside because it is something I imagine I would have done when I was a little boy and was frightened by my awful father.

Earlier in the day he had tried to grab my glasses off my face and when he would not let go after a long negotiation, I pried them out of his hands. This made him mad and he beat me up pretty good (scratching at my eyes, slapping and pulling out hair. he is really fast) right in front of everyone at the breakfast table. I was stunned as I often am and could not react fast enough because it takes me a while to collect myself and deal with the fact that my baby wants to hurt me. Katy scooped him up out of my arms and carried him off to give him the same stern "no no" and turn away treatment leaving me sitting there disheveled and trying not to sob.

So my grand attempt to show what a good dad I was, that I could handle tough situations, and be consistent with the messages we are sending him, turned into about the most embarrassing and heartbreaking scenario I can imagine. It could have gone many ways, the best outcome would have been for him to asked to be picked up and hug me in some golden light Norman Rockwell father son moment... I never expected that, I would not have been so lax all week in regards to his lessons if I thought that would happen. No, I knew their would be tears and I knew he would be mad at me for telling him he could not do something. So, I knew it was a gamble, but I didn't expect to loose so completely and utterly.