I do not often ask for respect. But, I always need it. When I do ask for it, I'm already angry and I'm not playing. Skyler never understands that. He thinks this whole Quarantine is his personal playtime and everyone else in the house is his butler.
"Make me tea."
"Make me a sandwich."
"Give me your phone."
"Put on this TV show."
"Put on that TV show."
I cannot handle it for one more second. I am done. I am his mother. I am not his friend. I will not be spoken to like I'm his maid. EVER AGAIN. I told him this today. He looked at me, smiled and nodded. But, again screamed at me. Again disrespected me. It's almost like the only thing he has learned this month is how to disrespect his mom. Yes, I have been in my own world. Yes, I might have thought it was cute at the beginning. I gave him the sandwich. I gave him my phone. I gave in to his every single whim. And now I'm surprised that he throws a tantrum when I say now. I'm surprised that he screams when he doesn't get his way. He's 4-years old. FOUR.
How do you respond when you don't get what you want?
The other day the shop didn't have marshmallows, I cried. I threw myself onto the bed and screamed my lungs out. I was very upset. I didn't shout at the shopkeeper. I didn't shout at my husband. I was calm until I got home and broke down. Yes, no normal person cries over marshmallows either. But, hey. This is not a normal situation that we found ourselves in, is it?
Bottom line. Even adults get upset. We do. You know we do. But, how did we learn to not punch the shopkeeper? Who taught us that a tantrum in the middle of the aisle is not the greatest way to work through your emotions?
Did we learn to manage our own emotions?
Dis our teachers teach us?
Our parents?
I cannot remember who taught me, can you?
Sometimes I feel like I'm still learning how to control my own emotions. Now, how on this Mother Earth am I supposed to teach a child to manage his emotions if I cannot manage my own?
This is insanity.
How am I a functional adult?
My poor baby.
So, what I did today was pull him aside and I gave him a lecture.
"Look at me" I almost shouted, "Look me in the eyes. I am your mother, Skyler. I am not your friend! Do you understand?"
"Yes," he squeaked like a little mouse, swallowing tears. My heart sank. This was not how I wanted this to go.
"I love you," I said instead of the rest of the lecture I thought of and I gave him my phone.
I realize now that at that moment I lost. Not the war, but definitely that specific battle. Especially if you consider how quickly the tears ran dry as soon as he held my phone in his little clammy hands.
I went to my room and cried. Yes, this mature, responsible adult, threw her own little pity party in her room and cried.
When I was calm, I rejoined my boys and watched him play. Then my phone rang, I watched him slide the red dot instantly before it even rang and my blood boiled. Who does he think he is? Is he serious? He begs for my phone and then instead of bringing me the phone as he promised, he swiped left.
"Skyler," I call.
"No one phoned you, mommy," he shouted and ran out of the room. I ran right after him and grabbed the phone out of his hands.
"Don't grab!" he berated me like I'm the 4-year-old. Thinking back, yeah, I shouldn't have grabbed. It's very annoying being corrected by a 4-year-old though. So, I don't apologize. I look at him and sigh.
"You don't love me," he shouts and runs out of the room.
And the mother of the year award goes toooooooo...
NOT ME.
I calmed down and collected myself, before calling him again. I was ready for another lecture.
"Sky, Mommy needs to talk to you," I whisper as I pick him up. I can feel him tense up almost immediately and I feel tears forming in my eyes. Gosh, I've done a job on this child. I breathe in. Calm. I need to stay calm.
"My boy, you can't shout at me like that," I started.
"But, Mommy, I want to play on your phone," he said defiantly.
"I understand," I counter in response, "but, you do not need to shout at me to let me know. Do you know why?"
"No, why?" he asked, squinting up at me. I smile, I have his attention. I'm finally doing something right.
"You don't have to shout, because Mommy wants to listen to you," I whispered conspiring, "and do you wanna know a secret?"
"yes," he giggled in return, "Secret means that it's a Password."
"Something like that," I laugh, he's always filled with ideas, maybe thinking about this as a password will not be a bad idea, "The secret is, Mommies can only hear little boys that say 'Please' and Mommy's do not understandings shouty words, only soft ones."
"So, if I shouty, Mommy," he says slowly, his finger on his chin as he thinks, "If I shouty, Mommy can't hear what I want?"
"Nope," I shrug, "Not a word. In fact, it only makes Mommy very upset. There's more."
"More?" he frowned, "Really?"
"Yes," I giggle, "Really."
"What else is the password, Mommy?"
"Well, if Mommy can't give you what you want, she has to say no. I don't like to say no, but sometimes I don't have a choice. And when I say no, you can't scream at me."
"Why not?"
"Because, it is not nice," I said simply.
"But, I want to get what I want," he answered as only a child could.
"I know," I whisper, "Everybody wants that, but you can't always get what you want."
"But, why?"
"I'll explain that another day," I sigh, "But, I want you to understand what I expect of you when I say no."
"Expect," he said, "That's like respect?"
"Yes, let's say that. But, next time Mommy says no, Mommy wants you to walk away. Just turn around and walk away. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Okay, let's try that. Ask me for my phone."
"I want your phone," he shouted.
"You're shouting and you didn't say please, no."
"I SAID PLEASE MOMMY! PLEASE CAN I PLAY WITH YOUR PHONE!!" he shouted. I breathed in.
"No," I said calmly, "remember what I asked you to do."
He walked away, crying. But he walked away. I called him back.
"Ask me again," I said. The tears drying up instantly.
"Please can I have your phone, Mommy," he said smiling.
"No," his face fell. I can tell he didn't expect this. I can see that he's about to start screaming again and I lift my eyebrows. he sees this and stops.
"Walk away," he whispered to himself, before turning around and walking away.
"Come back and try again," I called after him.
"You're torturing him," my husband complained from behind me.
"Do you have any better ideas?" He shrugged and I turned my attention to my boy.
"What do you need Skyler?"
"Please, can I play on your phone, Mommy?'"
"No."
Then something magical happened. He walked away. he didn't think about it. He didn't try and negotiate. he walked away. An hour later I found him playing with some cars. It was surreal.
"Sky," I called, "Well done," I whispered and handed him my phone.
"Thank you, Mommy!" He shouted and ran with my phone down the passage. I laughed as I looked at the time and realized I'm not getting my phone back until way past bedtime.
The clock struck 8 pm and I looked at the door, considering asking for the phone. But, I stopped. There's no school tomorrow I told myself. I have the PC.
That's when another miracle hit our house.
My son walked into the room and handed me the phone.
"It's bed-time, Mommy," he said as he got into bed.
We never covered bed-time today?
So that's been my day... How was yours?