Sigh. Wyatt pushed me right over the edge this morning. Or should I take the blame and say I went over? My reaction to him ousted me over? Oh, whatever.
He hit Lily. Wouldn’t go to his room, wouldn’t stay in his room, wouldn’t get in the car, wouldn’t get in the carseat…etc, etc. Lost his DS privileges for the weekend (the only time they’re allowed). Int was a long and drawn out battle, that took from 9:15 (when were supposed to leave the house) to 10:00 (when we left, tires squealing and brakes slamming to make the point, as we drove down the driveway, that Wyatt better buckle up. And then drove for the first 20 minutes of the ride with the windows down and the radio up as high as it goes, so that I couldn’t hear any of them.
I know. Lovely. And Lily and Rory came in for their share –why can they not just put their shoes on and get in the car? Why? Why?
The genesis of the battle was, incidentally, the fact that Lily would not trade back for a hockey puck shaped Silly Band that Wyatt apparently traded away yesterday. (yeah, I know, it looks like a circle to me, too.)
So, that was fun. I would discount the yelling as necessary, but I lost my temper. When I say i’ve tried to give up yelling, I should say that I mean I am trying to give up actually meaning it. And oh, I meant it…I was so mad! Why does he do that? Why hit his sisters? Why slam a door on Lily, why kick me, why NOT just get in the car to go to…the PLAYGROUND?
I just don’t get them sometimes. It would be best just to give in, but we were meeting friends, and it was a biggish plan, picnic, driving to meet up halfway, because we live an hour plus apart…. It’s that rock and hard place that I can’t cope with yet. I have to get In the car, and Wyatt won’t get in the car, and then what do I do? I know, I have heard the whole parenting on track distract and make it fun technique…but, yanno, no, at that point. I am the boss, I say we are going, and I mean it. Just like my mom and dad once meant it. And if it’s a physical challenge, then I guess better to do it now, when I will still win every time.
I wish I hadn’t lost my temper. But this is the third day in a row of big Wyatt tantrums over being sent to his room for hitting, kicking and the like. And tomorrow there will be no DS. And you can bet I will make sure there is time for the others to play… I am at least hopeful that, scary fury and all, I am getting through to him. But damn.
I am getting all anxious just thinking about it. Good thing the Real Housewives of New York City Reunion is on. Just puts it all in perspective.
I don’t know if it would work with your kids, but with the girls, I simply say, “Okay, get your shoes on and get in the car. If you don’t, you won’t go.” If they are mid-temper tantrum, it usually even works to diffuse the tantrum, especially if I say, “I know you aren’t happy, but we can figure out a solution when we get to X, but I am leaving in one minute.” They usually hurry and then forget about being upset by the time we are there.
A friend of mine told me she does this with her daughter and it worked for her and helped her not have to yell…
I feel like I’m writing a bad infomercial script here in this comment, but it’s true. I don’t have to yell to get them out the door. It works for me! (End bad script)
Hehe. I do that radio thing too.
Maybe this isn’t what you want to hear but this post totally made me laugh! I have soooo been there! It’s always good to be on the other side reading about it 🙂
If only JK’s advice worked on my kids!
Think of the gift this was for Lily and Rory. You were yelling, and it wasn’t at them. My older daughter was fairly perfect as a preschooler and elementary student (and boy, am I paying the price now that she’s 14). My younger, adopted, daughter was less than perfect, but there was nothing I could buy for her or allow her to do that was better than her sister getting in trouble. She would grin from ear to ear when the perfect one did something wrong.
Oh! I just realized something that I hadn’t connected before when you told me the story of Wyatt’s rough morning: he is FOUR now! So far, my kids have all been the least pleasant at 4-5 years old. I’m sorry. I hope your Wyatt grows out of it super fast.