Yesterday it all came to a breaking point, this recent hardheadedness our beloved son has begun to show. We had an all-out battle, and I'm proud to say that Matt and I came out the victors.
I'm more than willing to take the blame for letting the problems get this far. Matt and I have most assuredly spoiled Patrick from the start. How can you not spoil something that cute, especially knowing what a rough start he had to life? It didn't help that from the start I couldn't stand to hear him crying. You may remember me blogging ages ago about the first time we had to just let him cry himself out. It killed me then, and surprisingly it hasn't really gotten much easier since then. I feel guilty any time I hear him crying, even when it's just his usual cry-himself-to-sleep tactic.
That's the main reason I've spoiled him. I try to do whatever I can to please him, as long as it will keep him from crying. Occasionally I get tired of being used to give him whatever he wants, and I'll put him in his crib to cry it out, even if it's not really naptime, just so that I can get a short break. But I'll feel guilty almost immediately, so I go rescue him before I probably should.
Yesterday afternoon was one of those occasions. I've started having problems with my legs again (remember the achiness from a month or so ago? It's back) and haven't felt much like pacing back and forth across the house carrying a baby, which of course is all Patrick wanted. I gave up shortly before Matt got home and left Patrick in his room so that I could sit down for a few minutes without a crying baby in front of me.
Matt rescued him from his crib when he got home, and Patrick was in a particularly chipper mood. He was so happy to see his daddy; he even sat completely still on Daddy's lap for a good five minutes, watching TV--that has to be a record. It was so sweet to watch him gently play with Daddy's arm hair, perfectly content just to be close to Daddy.
And then all hell broke loose. Patrick got tired of being on Matt's lap and wanted down. And then he wanted back up. But then he didn't want to be held in the chair; he wanted to be walked again. Matt made Patrick look him in the face and laid down the law. "You can either be happy playing on the floor with your toys, or you can go cry by yourself in your room." Then he put him on the floor with his toys.
Patrick whimpered for a few more minutes, but Matt and I completely ignored him. We were in the room with him, but we refused to look at him or cater to his whims. About the time the crying started to escalate again, Matt repeated the ultimatum. Patrick gave a last cry and then gave up. For the rest of the evening we had our fun, happy Patrick back. I didn't realize how much I'd missed him. It was great to watch him play happily on his own or try to get Matt's or my attention by simply looking at us in a cute way, instead of screaming. I guess he suddenly figured out that Daddy was serious and that he wasn't putting up with any of that nonsense anymore.
All day today, happy Patrick has stuck around. We had a moment or two not long ago when he was upset with me, but that's not bad considering it was naptime and Patrick was also running a low-grade fever again (still from the shots; the doctor warned me one might do this). For a sleepy, sick boy, that's pretty good.
I have a feeling the testing isn't over yet. I know that was only the first tiny battle in this war of wills, but at least we came out the victor this time. We also know better how to handle him when he truly is just testing us. I just hope the terrible twos aren't simply one test after another for the entire year or so. I want to enjoy this happy Patrick much longer before he transforms back into the demon he's been for the past few days.
On a different note, I want to plead again to all you mothers out there for advice about our baby gate dilemma that I mentioned yesterday. Thank you to the grandmas for putting in your two cents. As long as we still haven't bought the gates, though, I want to keep taking opinions. What gates do you have? Do you like them? And what about our unique situation--any advice there? (Go back and read it...please.)
I'm more than willing to take the blame for letting the problems get this far. Matt and I have most assuredly spoiled Patrick from the start. How can you not spoil something that cute, especially knowing what a rough start he had to life? It didn't help that from the start I couldn't stand to hear him crying. You may remember me blogging ages ago about the first time we had to just let him cry himself out. It killed me then, and surprisingly it hasn't really gotten much easier since then. I feel guilty any time I hear him crying, even when it's just his usual cry-himself-to-sleep tactic.
That's the main reason I've spoiled him. I try to do whatever I can to please him, as long as it will keep him from crying. Occasionally I get tired of being used to give him whatever he wants, and I'll put him in his crib to cry it out, even if it's not really naptime, just so that I can get a short break. But I'll feel guilty almost immediately, so I go rescue him before I probably should.
Yesterday afternoon was one of those occasions. I've started having problems with my legs again (remember the achiness from a month or so ago? It's back) and haven't felt much like pacing back and forth across the house carrying a baby, which of course is all Patrick wanted. I gave up shortly before Matt got home and left Patrick in his room so that I could sit down for a few minutes without a crying baby in front of me.
Matt rescued him from his crib when he got home, and Patrick was in a particularly chipper mood. He was so happy to see his daddy; he even sat completely still on Daddy's lap for a good five minutes, watching TV--that has to be a record. It was so sweet to watch him gently play with Daddy's arm hair, perfectly content just to be close to Daddy.
And then all hell broke loose. Patrick got tired of being on Matt's lap and wanted down. And then he wanted back up. But then he didn't want to be held in the chair; he wanted to be walked again. Matt made Patrick look him in the face and laid down the law. "You can either be happy playing on the floor with your toys, or you can go cry by yourself in your room." Then he put him on the floor with his toys.
Patrick whimpered for a few more minutes, but Matt and I completely ignored him. We were in the room with him, but we refused to look at him or cater to his whims. About the time the crying started to escalate again, Matt repeated the ultimatum. Patrick gave a last cry and then gave up. For the rest of the evening we had our fun, happy Patrick back. I didn't realize how much I'd missed him. It was great to watch him play happily on his own or try to get Matt's or my attention by simply looking at us in a cute way, instead of screaming. I guess he suddenly figured out that Daddy was serious and that he wasn't putting up with any of that nonsense anymore.
All day today, happy Patrick has stuck around. We had a moment or two not long ago when he was upset with me, but that's not bad considering it was naptime and Patrick was also running a low-grade fever again (still from the shots; the doctor warned me one might do this). For a sleepy, sick boy, that's pretty good.
I have a feeling the testing isn't over yet. I know that was only the first tiny battle in this war of wills, but at least we came out the victor this time. We also know better how to handle him when he truly is just testing us. I just hope the terrible twos aren't simply one test after another for the entire year or so. I want to enjoy this happy Patrick much longer before he transforms back into the demon he's been for the past few days.
On a different note, I want to plead again to all you mothers out there for advice about our baby gate dilemma that I mentioned yesterday. Thank you to the grandmas for putting in your two cents. As long as we still haven't bought the gates, though, I want to keep taking opinions. What gates do you have? Do you like them? And what about our unique situation--any advice there? (Go back and read it...please.)
Labels: Audience Participation, Frustration
2 Comments:
I know I am not a mother, but the gates that I have liked were those wooded ones that you attach to the wall. I am sure you have seen them: you screw a componet to each side of the wall. When opening and closing the gate it has a little metal latch that you pull up on that unlocks it. I know it is harder to understand what I am talking about without seeing it. They would use these at the day care I worked at because they were like a door...lift up on the latch and swing it. Any how I like you gate delima number 1...attaching it to each entry way....those other gates that are circular and stand by themselves I have seen kids push them over as they get bigger. Anyhow...there is my two cents. I wish I could explain the gate better.
He sounds like he is really developing into his terrible twos. Maybe if it is real bad now it will be easier when he gets older...one can hope. TTYL
Mel
I'm sorry you're feeling bad and I hope you figure out what's with the achy legs! I'm really proud, though, of your good parenting. You and Matt do such a good job with Patrick. I know it's not easy knowing the right thing to do all the time.
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