Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Meltdown

Last night, all seemed to be going smoothly, until "The MELTDOWN" hit. I really didn't see it coming, and usually I do, but last night, I didn't.

We had finished dinner. We were going to do baths before bedtime. There was a basket of folded laundry right outside the kids' rooms and they were going to help put their things away before we started baths.

Annie, now two-years-old, took her things a piece at a time to her room and put them into the drawers. (We keep all their clothes in drawers, for this reason. If it's on a hanger higher then their heads, guess who has to put it away? ME. If it's at a level they can reach, it becomes their responsibility.)

Mackenzie, soon to be four, was working with "piles" to put hers away. "Mommy, just pile my panties and socks on my arms so I can dump them in the top drawer. I already opened it...Next pile my shirts on my arms 'cause the middle drawer is open now...Pile on my pants 'cause the bottom drawer looks kind of empty since you haven't washed my pants for a long time, right?"

Then there was Nicholas, five-and-a-half, normally very compliant, and quick when it comes to putting things away because almost everything is a race. I placed his stacks of folded clothes in the floor of his room. Three pairs of pajamas, two pairs of pants, two shirts, some underwear and socks. The underwear and socks made it quickly into their rightful place. Then, I'm not sure what happened. The drawer was open for the next set of clothes, but suddenly, the clothes were being tossed into the floor, not even close to the open drawer! WHAT?! I picked up the clothes (pants & shirts) that were now unfolded near the door, walked into the hall, pulled down the attic door, and put the clothes up inside, then closed the door. He saw what happened. I simply said, "If you don't want to put away your clothes, then we'll keep them up in the attic so they won't be in the way. If you would like to keep your pajamas in your room, you should put them away now." This was infuriating to him. So what did he do?

THREW THE PAJAMAS!

I picked them up, and in the same way, walked into the hallway, opened the attic, put the pj's inside, closed the attic door. He screamed. He cried. He sulked.

I got the girls ready for their bath.

"I'm not taking a bath!!!" he shouted.

"Okay. Then get ready for bed. I'll help you brush your teeth."

The drama continued to unfold as he didn't want to put on pajamas, because the ones he wanted to wear were now in the attic. "You can sleep in undies."

Not the answer he was hoping for.

He didn't want to brush teeth.

Not an option when your dad's an orthodontist.

For half an hour he screamed & cried as though I were an expert in various forms of torture and cruelty. He did receive two spankings (literally 1 swat, then a little later another, lest anyone think that I beat my children) one for throwing something at me when he was angry, the other for being intentionally defiant when he was asked to do something reasonable within his ability level. Needless to say, it wasn't fun for either of us.

After the "storm" had passed, we talked about what went wrong. "Buddy, why did you choose to throw your clothes instead of putting them away? Why did you choose to throw something at Mommy when you felt angry? It's okay to be angry with me and tell me what made you feel angry, but you are not allowed to throw things or try to hurt me when you are angry."

"Well, Mommy," he says, with a few tears still dampening his cheeks, "I think what we had for dinner made me do all that."

"How's that? You liked dinner tonight and said it was one of your 'most favorite things Mommy cooks' and you ate a lot of mango & pineapple at the end. How did your dinner do that?"

"Well, maybe it wasn't dinner then. Maybe it was just some bad choices."

If I sound like I have confidence or certainty about how the night turned out, I hope you'll know that I don't. I sat wondering, after the kids were asleep, "What will they take from this? How will Nicholas remember this event? How about the girls, who heard their big brother, but didn't see everything that was going on? And what if a neighbor picks up a distorted signal from one of our baby monitors? They'll certainly think the child was near death. Of course, he was the only one screaming and shouting. My husband and I both managed to keep our voices at a normal level. Did I do what needed to be done for his best or did I do what was best for me?" And with these thoughts we continue to put money into a savings account that will one day help pay for college or counseling, whichever seems appropriate at the time.

2 comments:

Laura said...

We have those moments on a regular basis! Pretty sure that everyone in The Oaks Mall today considered calling Children and Family Services on me as i walked now 3 yr old Owen to the bathroom for well deserved consequences as he cried/screamed "I DON'T WANT A SPANKING!!!" Quite frankly I do not care about all of the criticism because I know that I did what was best for my child and we exited the bathroom sitting quietly and calmly and left the mall "looking" rather put together;)
Hope you guys are doing well...and have a better night;)
Laura~

Larry said...

I'm so glad you guys are parents! The first reason I am glad is that I think you are providing the right environment for you children to prosper. The second reason is that you are filled with questions after such interactions. The third reason is that it makes me feel like I am not alone! Thank you for sharing.