OMG! I am going to go crazy trying to correct Michael! He and I are in the biggest control struggle these days. Just about everything he does is hoping to get a rise out of me. He does exactly what I tell him not to do and says exactly what I tell him not to say. There is a total disconnection between us lately, and it seems I get in a bad mood as soon as we get in the door from school—that is, if he doesn’t start with me first thing in the morning.
Yesterday, when we got home from school, he wanted to play with the neighbor boy, but we needed to make sure his homework was finished. While we were working on writing, he was doing pretty well, but when we got to a letter that was difficult, he would scribble-scrabble or look away and tell me he can’t do it. We’d erase and try again, but it was like he was purposely writing something else instead of trying do what I’d shown him. Finally to end the lesson, I had him write his name at the top of his worksheet. It started out fine, and then we got to lower case “e.” That is a challenge for him, so he just wrote whatever letter he felt like. By this time, I was done fighting with him to do what he was told. I put everything away and told him that he would not be playing with his friend this evening. After making obnoxious smiling faces at me that say “I love making you mad” he began to cry and tell me that he was going to finish his homework himself. “Fine… I’m done helping.” I told him. He needs to figure out how to work on his own anyway. Do you think he did? Nope!
Then he was mad because we weren’t going into the attic to get the Halloween decorations–mostly because my back has bothered me, and I wasn’t about to suffer through it for Mikey when he’s been trying my patience since he got home from school. In the meantime, he and Pierce are running from the front door into the back of the sofa and back to the door. No biggie, right? Wrong, since they saw fit to slam into both stopping points, making me nervous that they were going to get hurt or break something. No matter what I said, they were running like tornadoes through the house, periodically resulting in Pierce crying because he and Mikey played too rough.
The evening ended with reading Pinocchio—He didn’t want to, but I told him it was a good story. I get tired of reading the same thing, so we try a different book each night. He seemed fairly into the story while I was telling it to him, so I smugly asked him if he liked it like I said he would. He said, “No.” It wasn’t emphatic, just matter of fact like he expected this outcome. Guess he can pick the book tonight….
This morning started too early (5:50a.m.), and with it the demands—“Can we eat? I’m starving.” “I can’t find Emily Bronte (his dinosaur). Can you go find her for me?” When I told him “not right now…” he got irritated with me and kept pushing. Finally he tried to find her himself, but no luck.
Then at breakfast the dirty talk about “smelly hoo hoos” began. I scolded, threatened and finally sent him to his room, because he just kept doing it. When he wandered off to his room, he went as slowly as possible after I told him to pick up the pace. I followed him into his room, sat him on his bed, and firmly told him that if he was sent to the principal’s office for talking like that and not listening, I was NOT going to come and get him! As his face crumpled, I took away the toys he was playing with, told him to stay in his room, and left closing the door. As I sat down to figure out what I could blog about without sounding like all I do is bitch about my five-year-old, I hear him open the door singing a sweet little song. I quickly realized that he was singing about hoo hoos AGAIN! I swear! I went back and told him that since he wouldn’t listen to me, I was going to go get his dad. Naturally, Mikey swore he would be nice, “don’t tell daddy—I’ll behave, I would do it anymore.” I told Greg, that he needed to bring down the hammer with his big scary voice.
In the meantime… Mikey followed me to the living room awaiting “The hammer of the God (‘s).” I tried once again to bridge this gap between him and me. I told him how much I loved him, and that I didn’t understand why he didn’t want to get along. I used good catholic guilt and told him he must not love me very much since he keeps intentionally doing the opposite of what I say. I said how much I miss him and that it makes me sad when we aren’t connecting. He started to cry. He came running over to me, where I scooped up all four feet of him into my arms and hugged and kissed him. I miss holding him. We were immediately reconciled and he was hearing me again. Working really hard for my approval, everything he did after that was trying to show me that he wanted to impress me with his accommodations. It worked! We are in love again for the moment! Turns out the “hammer of the God(s)” was plastic—not quite as scary as I wanted it to be, but I think it still got Mikey’s attention. We’ll see….. I am just happy we are getting along.