Wednesday, April 25, 2012

It's Hard Being Three

It always turns on a dime. We're all doing our individual things--the dogs are farting around the backyard, I'm  half clicking around on the internet,  half watching out of my other eye for the five minute part of the "Nighty Night Special" the boys are watching that features the insufferable Barney, so I can hit the fast forward button really fast. (every time I do this, Hopper notes: "The purple dinosaur broke it."  Yes, honey, he did. The purple dinosaur breaks EVERYTHING. You just remember that). Sam is reading or cooking. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, for no discernible reason, someone pushes his little brother off the couch where little brother smacks his head on the hardwood floor. Then it is ON.  I turn the TV off and ask in what I hope is a calm, but stern mean mommy voice, "Why did you do that?"

Oh, then the screaming starts.  And the tears. And the 500 attempts to turn the TV back on but it won't come back on because I unplugged it. 

"See? It's not coming back on because you're in timeout right now for hurting your little brother." (I am not above lying about how electricity works).

Incomprehensible screaming and flailing of body parts.

"Go sit on the couch til you calm down."

More flopping around on the floor, this time managing to spin his entire body around in circles without seemingly touching anything because Toddler Fury=Kinetic Energy.  He's also now covered in dog hair. 

"Hopper, that isn't going to work, go sit."

 He runs to the other side of the living room.

This is when I try very hard not to laugh because that makes him angry..and you wouldn't want to see him angry. 

"Yes, it's very distressing that you ran away. Now come sit." 

 He throws a truck. A shoe. And then he tries to pick up the PackNPlay to throw it and can't, so he just kicks it.  And then starts crying because he just stubbed the living shit out of his own big toe. I let him cry it out til he comes over and sits next to me on the couch, still sniffling.

"I need a hug." 

Yes, yes you do.  Little turd. 

No comments: