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Thursday, January 15, 2009

I Need a Babysitter

My son is getting on my last nerve. I'm trying to take care of my daughter, who is still sick and now even more nauseus from the Amoxicillan, and he is throwing fits on me.

As soon as I picked him up from school today, he starts in with his mouth. I try to do the good parent role and just talk with him about what's really bothering him. He tells me he's jealous of this girl at school, who he thinks the teacher likes better than him. He says the teacher is always telling her "good job", but doesn't say it to anyone else. Although, I find that hard to believe ...(his teacher only said good things about him before)...I listen and try to reason with him. He listens to me. Everything is fine.

Twenty minutes later, my son gets mad when his sister pulls his hair. In fairness, it does hurt. I pull her away, and he starts fighting with me. "You didn't get here fast enough. You're just a girl. Girls are slow." (That's his new thing --boys are better than girls.)

I try to tell him that's not true, be nice, blah, blah, blah.

I pick up the phone and make a call. Big mistake.

Him: "I want to talk."

Me: "Ok, wait just a minute." Approximately, one minute later I hand him the phone. He tries to hang it up.

Him: "I don't want to talk anymore. Go away."

I take the phone, give a dirty look, and walk away.

Him: "I want to talk! I want to talk!"

Me: "Forget it!"

Him: "Give me the phone now!" And then he dumps almost an entire box of cheez-its on the kitchen floor.

Me: ...silence...waiting for my blood pressure to stabilize...wondering if there are any openings in Atlanta for a compensation analyst...

Him: "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" ...crying...

Me: ...silence...finally remembering I'm on the phone...

We hang up, while he's picking up the cheez-its. My daughter is on the floor trying to help. One cheez-it goes into the box, one into her mouth. That's all she needs -more germs inside her body.

Finally, I just send him to his room. Well, I tell him to go to his room about eight times, then I have to drag him there.

I hate that my daughter is not getting the attention she deserves, because I have to deal with his bad behavior. Plus, I'm afraid she's going to grow up and think that's the only way to get attention. (They both get plenty of play time with mommy and daddy...honestly.)

And now he's still in his room.

I hope this parenting class helps.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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