Pushed to the Edge
October 12, 2007
I wouldn't call James a difficult child--not by any stretch of the imagination. Sure, he's naughty every now and again, but I think that's normal--after all, the kid is two. He's generally very calm and surprisingly polite. And not to rub it in your face or anything, but James even knows how to accept and return a compliment:
Me: James, you have cute feet.
James: Sank you, Mommy. (translation: Thank you, Mommy)
James: Uhhhhh, Moyee? I yike yo hayo. (Uhhhh, Mommy? I like your hair)
We had that very conversation at the park earlier this week, and I've got to admit, it brought a little tear to my eye.
**side note: It also brought uncontrollable tears to the the mom sitting next to me--her kid was the evil little six-year-old who was chasing a girl with a stick**
Unfortunately, James wasn't his normal self yesterday. He transformed from 'the cute little boy with the curly hair' to 'that nasty little monster with the big, greasy afro.' He was whining and pushing. He was stealing toys and running away. Basically, he was being bossy and aggressive with a little hint of violence. Cute, huh?
James was being terrible, but somehow, I was hanging on. My rationale was still in tact, I was maintaining my calm, and I hadn't given in to my very strong urge to post him on the "swap" section of Craigslist--because honestly, a rottwiler or a Buick was seeming SO MUCH EASIER by that point. I was a downright pillar of patience. Until...
James and I were sitting at the kitchen table eating grapes. He picked a teey-tiny little grape off the stem--it was only about this big: O. He looked at me, smiled and said, "Dat's a baby gwape!"
Ok, kind of cute.
Then he took another, slightly larger grape. This time, it was about this big: O. He smiled at me again and exclaimed, "Dat es a daddy gwape!"
Alright, that was sweet.
But can you guess what happened next? I'll give you a clue...the cuteness came to a sudden, screeching halt.
My child took the biggest grape he could possibly find--the damn thing was like this: O. Then he lowered his voice to the same grumbly tone you would use to imitate a giant saying "Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum!" And he said, "Dis is da MOMMY gwape!"
I was like, "EXCUSE ME?!"
And he repeated himself, only louder. "DIS is da MOMMY GWAPE!"
"Is Mommy big like that?" I asked.
"No James. Is Mommy really THAT much bigger than Daddy?"
"Yes. Mommy es SOOOO big!"
I had that child changed into his pajamas and tucked in bed withing sixty seconds.
He broke me.
Do you know why? Because it's true--I currently outweigh my husband by fifteen pounds, and I certainly don't want to hear about it from my two-year-old monster.