Showing posts with label Terrible Twos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Terrible Twos. Show all posts

Monday, July 25, 2011

Mr. Rules - Everything must be just so

Sonny Boy rules my life (no, I'm NOT proud of it). He has rules for everything. He has rules for every ritual in his life  -- each activity in his everyday life is a ritual. I'm not joking, its FRUSTRATING. Here's what's pissing me off these days...I just endured an episode early this morning, at about 4.30 a.m.

1. Mummy must never pee. He seems to have SOMETHING against it. I have talked it out with him, tried reasoning with him, always keep the bathroom door open lest he thinks I'm going to get sucked down the commode...I've told him I can't pee where I stand in the house, or in a diaper like him at night...I've pointed out that he pees! And waste must go out of the body or we'll be ill blah blah....he listens with big eyes and then weeps to say "You must not do soosoo"!!!!!!!!!!!!

2. His nose must be wiped in the precise strokes he specifies -- it must be pressed hard with a kerchief and you must wok on it from top to nose tip -- the hanky must never be inserted in the nostril. We've tried telling him he can please wipe his own nose whichever way he likes, but no. WE must only do it, and it can only be done HIS way, or there's more tears and snot.

3. Now that Bangalore's getting colder, he pees himself silly through the night. However thick the diaper, he leaks out the front from top (aaargh the boy thing!). He's smart enough to wake me in the middle of the night most of the time and tell me "I've done susoo", which usually indicates his diaper is FULL. But then, I'm supposed to change him without switching on the lights! Bleary-eyed blimey me... If I switch on even like a night lamp he'll wail like a banshee and wake up the entire apartment. I cannot wash hands, throw soiled diaper in dustbin, basically get out of his radar....Oh and yes, it must be his brand of diaper or he has issues with that.....I know a whole lot of parents are nodding their heads as they read this, thinking I'm this loser complying to his every demand. But really....it's really challenging to put up with his tantrums at the end of a long working day.

4. He has a set order in which things must happen -- saying goodbye to my parents every night is done in a particular order and way, if its sandals he's wearing, only he must put them on -- any attempt to help buckling up results in a tantrum, dinner must be served in an order -- chapati first, rice later. If it's a holiday, by noon he has to be at his grandparents', there must be just that amount of toothpaste on his brush, the water to rinse his mouth must be put into mouth in that one same direction/angle always


I've considered if he suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)... is it possible to have a child checked for it? I wonder sometimes if it's a sign of anything else...don't want to take names unnecessarily...I wonder if its just me who needs to see a therapist, giving in, as I am, to most of his stupid "rules". Anybody out there with an insistent child like this? He'll be three next month -- I can't even blame it on the Terrible Twos anymore....

Friday, May 21, 2010

I've got a bawler! And people dare to talk of "how to" discipline

Sheer terror grips me when S starts crying. Which is very often these days.
He's two months short of two years but still, the Terrible Twos, i swear, have set in. He screams, he cries, he scream-cries.

Last night it was a tantrum to go to grandpa's place soon after we reached home from grandpa's. Then came potty. And S inistsed, bawling all the time, that he would go potty only at grandpa's!!!! So there he was running around all over the house pooping away on the floor, and refusing to sit on his potty :-(

And this was after he spent a good 20 mins crying for a water bottle (which hadn't been cleaned. He just wouldn't take "no" for an answer. I always give in (I know u're not supposed to and all that discipline blah blah) but at the end of a looong day's work, you just want him to shut up. I slapped his bottom. Didn't work. I picked him up and spoke to him in quiet tone and in very certain terms told him that he can't drink from the bottle. Didn't work. I screamed at him. He screamed back louder and stronger. Hubby tried playing hide-n-seek with him. S played, but screaming and with tears rolling down his cheeks anyway.

I was a cry baby too and now i wonder what kind of torture my parents must have gone through till I settled down.