I knew that adjusting to the new summer schedule would be a little difficult, but not for the reasons I anticipated. For example, I thought the big kids would bug me all day about playing video games, but they’ve been really cool and fun. They’ve kept themselves entertained, done chores when I asked, and only bug me a little bit about playing video games. The big ta-dah has been how Hugh, whose life I foolishly assumed was staying pretty much the same, thinks that he’s calling the shots at home. He’s our own little dictator. This summer we really have created our own little world. Our own little totalitarian state.
From the moment this kid wakes up, slamming the door open and yelling “I want BREAKFAST!” to the moment he goes to bed insisting “I need WATER!” he’s ordering something–anything. He goes around ordering the kids to “Go find my Batman!” and “Go outside and push me on the swings. NOW! You can do it!” ”Give me a popsicle! NO: THE GREEN ONE!” The kids were mildly amused by this in the beginning, but now his demands are getting out of hand.
For example, today I found myself showing the kids how to shuck corn (I’m from Nebraska, so it’s my obligation to teach my children how to be a proper “cornhusker.” It’s part of their birthright, really). And, naturally, Hugh wanted to do it HIMSELF. He quickly became annoyed that it wasn’t working so I helped him, carefully handling the corn cob like a ticking bomb lest I would unknowingly offend Hugh in any way. He was, again, naturally angry that I had to help him. It made him look less powerful, so when I told the kids to give me the corn so I could cook it, he tipped the power scale in his favor by eating the raw corn to spite me. I told him it would taste better if I cooked it, but the more I insisted, the more he insisted the corn was “delicious.” Oh well, at least it’s a vegetable, right? So, in the end, I really won, right?
I’ve tried reasoning with him. That did actually work with a couple of my kids at this developmental stage. I’ve explained to Hugh that eating, say six fruit snacks in ten minutes would make him sick. He just yells back “No it won’t!” What does he expect me to say? “Who can argue with a retort like that? Well played, Hugh. Well played.”
I tried giving him more attention, making sure he was eating and sleeping regularly, sticking to a routine, every bit of advice I’ve heard (after-all, this isn’t my first picnic, you know), but nothing affects him. I have a creepy suspicion that he just delights in power and control. Like more than a normal three year-old should. And dealing with Hugh makes me feel like a terrorist negotiator. I find myself constantly saying things like “Okay, okay, just tell me what you want–don’t freak out! Stop yelling–let’s just calm down. Let’s just all CALM DOWN!”
I know it’s a phase. I know he’ll grow out of it. And I try, I really try to be patient, like all the parenting gurus suggest, and “hear him” by echoing his feelings with phrases like “I know it’s hard. I know you want to eat candy for lunch, but today we’re having sandwiches.” But it’s getting really hard to pull that off a) with a straight face, b) without sarcasm, or c) without throwing the sandwich.
Good thing he’s so good-looking.
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Emily says: A few questions you might want to consider: Is it really important that the corn be cooked? What battles might you simply "refuse to engage" on? How serious would it be if you just let the other kids react to his demands in a way that might come more naturally to them? I mean, would there be blood? Or would it just be a useful demonstration of a natural consequence? (I used to tell my 4-year-old son, who was constantly being brutalized by his 2-year-old sister, "Hit her back, for crying out loud!") Sorry it's so hard! He'll probably be a CEO one day. Or an American Idol producer.
Kristy says: Listen to Emily being all wise and calm like that. How many years away from 3-year-olds do we have to be to gain that kind of clarity, my friend?