Okay I finally had to hide the pooper scooper. It seemed like a good idea at the time but now I'm really thinking that a heavy shovel or something less shiny and attractive to the eye would have been much better. Then again a shovel would hurt the dogs much worse then getting hit on the head with a pooper scooper. My son is infatuated by the pooper scooper. When I look outside, he has it in hand and is heading right for the dog poop run or one of the dogs. It wouldn't be such a big thing except for the fact that he doesn't know how to use it and if he using it on one of the dogs...it could kill them. I'm tired of dealing with the aftermath of the poop covered hands, unhappy dogs and dog shit shoes. I chucked it across the garage and I'm not even sure where it is now but I do know that all day long he asks, "Where is it mom?" "Where is it?"
Is your child as stubborn and relentless as mine? He doesn't take no for an answer and certainly doesn't stop asking. "Mom, mom, mom, mom, MOMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY". This is what he does all day long and sometimes just to spite him, I won't answer. I know it sounds mean but I can't take it and I just don't answer. He doesn't have anything to say and I think that he just likes to call my name to see if I will answer. Yesterday I picked him up from school as usual and he didn't want to go. Do you know how embarrassing it is when you show up at the end of the day and your kid starts crying and throwing a tantrum because he has to go home? The teachers are looking at you like, "Shit, she must beat his ass." My son is screaming so loud and kicking me and rolling on his back like a dog. I look up and smile at the kids and teachers watching this scene from afar. "Come on honey, we have to go home and see PaPa". My son replies with this, "NO, I HATE IT AND I DON'T WANT TO GO". "GO AWAY MAMA". This is when my blood starts to boil and the thoughts about why did I decide to have kids go through my head. I have to remind myself that I'm in a school yard with children and I do Yoga breaths. Again, in a calm voice I ask, "Honey, we have to go home now but we will come back tomorrow and play". My son replies, "NO" and he takes off running. A teacher will ask if I want them to chase him for me. Okay so here is when a mom has to decide what to do. I decide to pick him up and drag him out kicking and screaming to the car. He weighs no less than 37 pds and feels like a 100 when he's kicking and punching you. That's it, I tell myself...he is going to bed when he gets home. I have had it!
Later in the car on the way home from school, my son call out, "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mom, mom, mom, MOM, MOMMMMMMY". As you can see I was giving him the silent treatment. We drive into the driveway and he looks at me and says, "Sorry mom, please no bed". I forget all about what just happened at school and tell him, "Okay, just don't do it again". Am I crazy? Insane? Nanny 911 would be ashamed. Did I not remember what just happened at the school yard? My mother would tell me that I'm going to raise a serial killer and you know what...maybe I will. There are just some days where discipline is harder than working an 8 hour job. I wonder if anyone called about a job today? I will take the bird job at this point. Hmmm? Please don't tell my husband about this. He says I'm horrible when it comes to discipline. I guess there are some things that he can claim that he's better at and that just might be one.