So, I can’t remember what movie the line is from, but a crazy-eyed, irrational guy screams passionately “I WILL NOT YIELD!” (I think it may be JoaquinPhoenix as Comedus in Gladiator but don’t hold me to that. In related news, I would put Joaquin at the top of the name pile for the new babe, but I think it’s cruel to give a kiddo a name no one can pronounce. In this region it would constantly be “Joe-uh-quinn. Not cool. I digress . . . )
That’s been me today.
We’re coming off of several days of Max refusing to listen, questioning everything and pushing the limits. It’s enough to make me chew the paint off the walls. As a result, I become the person screaming “I will not yield!” with every fiber of my body.
You want to wear a short sleeve shirt? No!! Would like mac and cheese for lunch? Forget it! Demand to read books during your rest? You got another thing coming, pal!!
The constant struggle of the wills – mine versus his – had my nerves frayed and the kids tossed outside by 11 this morning. Then I hit the hard stuff.
Well, at least as hard as I can get these days.
The good news is:
– He’s still alive.
– Tomorrow is another day.
I know the answer is to overwhelm him with small choices, to let him have as much control as we can take. I know it does no good to anyone to stay rigid – it only means I’ll snap at some point (I’m already starting to crack).
Oh, and drink more cocoa.