I’ve decided I’m the authority on what’s wrong with children today. Ready? Here’s my theory.
They are entitled little shits.
So, that’s the short version. The long version is a consequence of something like this:
My son is two. Two is THE MAGICAL AGE OF WONDERMENT. Aka: “NO NO MINE MINE MINE I DO IT” etc. And we all know that if you are not your child’s authority by the time they are two, they will have the authority and rule the family. No, it’s true. I saw it on Super Nanny.
These are the thoughts running through my head yesterday as my son threw his usual, Mommy-Stay-With-Me-And-I’ll-Be-Super-Cute-And-Make-You-Want-More-Kids-Just-Don’t-Make-Me-Nape-Alone-And-MY-Are-You-Working-Out?! He knows how to charm, people. I looked straight in his puppy-dog googly eyes that peaded with his entire soul that I GREW IN MAH BELLY and said, “You have to choose between a book or bed. Book now? Or Bed now?”
I repeated, “You have until the count of five to make a decision. Book? Or Bed. Because so help me I WILL put you in bed without a book. Don’t MAKE ME TAKE AWAY DR. SEUSS.”
He screamed. I counted to five. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... .... ........ (I like to give him a chance here) ..... .... .......
I quietly laid my screaming child down, stroked his teary cheek, told him I loved him, and walked out the door.
And took a shower so I couldn’t hear the screams. Because. OH MY GOD. The screams, people. I’ve never heard anything so intense. I was like choking / screaming / Hyper-Ventilating / Poltergysting freak out.
The neighbors heard it.
Their neighbors heard it.
Dogs started howling.
Someone banged on the wall to our condo. AS IF. Like I didn’t know he was screaming. I was nekid, in the shower, washing my hair humming loudly picturing some amazingly hot ass fireman coming in to the bathroom saying, “Oh, uh, sorry Ma’am, we got a distress call, someone heard screaming, and, well, are you alright?” And then I’d breathe, “I am nowww” and step out about twenty pounds lighter and with the muscle tone of a 20 year old and the boobs of a 16 year old and this entire sequence just went somewhere I didn’t intend.
Anywho. (Fanning self)
Where was I?
Right. Kid screaming. So I finally went in and told him ever-so-calmly “Are you ok now? You ready to read a book? Or do I need to leave you some more” and he said “Done Done DONE” and I sat and snuggled my son and we read the book and when I laid him back down he said “Lufv Yu” and I kissed him and said goodnight.
I was proud. But more than that, I understand why kids turn in to entitled little shits. It’s hard to not give in. It’s hard to stand the ground, to always be the parent. JUST SOMETIMES I want to not be the parent. Can’t I just be the drunk lady in the corner rocking back and forth? No? Responsibility and such? Right.
My children will not be the entitled little shits of tomorrow. Or today. Or any day.
I may, however, have to buy ear plugs in the mean time but the world will be a better place for it.
(He’s all, WHO ME?! Comon, LOOK AT ME. Don’t believe a word you hear. I’m adorable.)
10 guests here now.
It’s okay. Firemen think naked chicks with earplugs are totally hot. Known fact. You’re welcome.
By Lisa on 2009 06 16
It is so hard for me not to pull the 2009 version of “I had to walk uphill in the snow both ways” with Declan almost every single day. They ARE entitled little shits.
By Aimee Greeblemonkey on 2009 06 16
Overheard in my house daily: “You have NO IDEA how bad 90% of children in this world have it compared to you and if you can’t play quietly for 15 MINUTES with one of the MILLION toys you have, I’d be happy to SHOW YOU.”
By Shannon on 2009 06 16
good one. now, when are you going to write more about the fireman??
By April on 2009 06 16
Maybe you need to hand out ear plugs to your neighbours. I’m always worried my neighbours hear me or my kids yelling and we don’t live as close to them as you do.
I’m thinking of taking my kids to Africa just so they can see how good they have it. Maybe Mexico (not the tourist areas) since its closer.
By Sheila on 2009 06 17
OMG! Wow…sounds just like our house. I paused a moment to step out of the shower…hell I have been in it for 9 months now…holy hell…my kid is still screaming!
You made me smile!
By Traci on 2009 06 17
You can’t convince me that that little boy would do such things.
By Maria on 2009 06 17
I loved this entry - especially the injection of morning porn. Thanks for that.
Also, been there, done that, can totally relate. My 40 year old throws those tantrums too!
By Karen Sugarpants on 2009 06 17
Sounds like the shower and earplugs were totally worth it!
By TexasRed on 2009 06 17
I’m SO there with you.
By Miss Grace on 2009 06 17
I am so with you too. We’re about to start a horrible bedtime war in our house, and I’m not looking forward to the nightly battle.
By Rachael on 2009 06 17
This is so familiar I can hardly reply.
By syd on 2009 06 17
I thought I lucked out when 2 was OK, then 3 hit. Ouch.
By Summer on 2009 06 17
I just love this post! I sure hope I have the strength to be the parent when my as yet unborn child behaves that way.
By Assertagirl on 2009 06 18
I remember those days all too well. My little one, Mini Me, would scream till I was crying along with him. One night, I put him in his bed fifty times. I finally won. Just keep doing what you are doing! Eventually, they get the picture.
By mrschattypants on 2009 06 18
We’re so there. right. now.
By Rachel - A Southern Fairytale on 2009 06 19
Ahhh… the beauty of a house on a quarter of an acre. No thumps on the house wall - just knocks on the front door if the screaming gets to be too much. Although when the new neighbors on the corner and their kids are outside and the kids are doing something not cool and I hear the mama yelling at them to not do that, I get a smile on my face and nod… (like “yes! I’m not alone!”)
By Lanna on 2009 06 19
Screaming little shits are how you get rid of crappy neighbors with barking dog. It works every time. Ole
I might need to borrow someone’s little shit when I get home. New neighbor, new shitty dog. GGgggrrrrrrr!
By Omaflinger on 2009 06 23
You canNOT be the drunk lady in the corner rocking back and forth - that’s MY place.
By Carmen on 2009 06 24