Elijah has been impatient and has had a temper since birth. When he had a wet diaper, he wanted
it changed NOW. Can’t blame him for that. When he was hungry, he wanted fed
IMMEDIATELY. That’s understandable too. Momma was a milking machine. He wanted
out of his car seat as soon as the motor was off. He wanted out of his crib the
second he was awake…whether we had our coffee or not. When these things didn't happen as soon as he realized he wanted them, he let us know. He had the reddest face of any blond boy ever.
We have noted that, as Elijah grows older, his
way of dealing with his temper has changed. He still cries when he doesn’t get
his way. Talking to him to explain the reasons why the answer is no is
harder now that he is four. Because he is very independent. And, heaven help us, because he has his own opinion now. He has lots of
opinions on just about every subject that comes up. He's such a guy.
 |
| I'll sit in time out but I'll do it the way I want to. |
When he was two, saying no brought on a temper tantrum to bring down the
house. He would lay on the floor, as most twos are prone to do, kicking his
feet and getting red in the face. We would ignore him for the most part, just
making sure he didn’t hurt himself or break anything. Eventually it would go
away and he would be his own sweet self again.
When he reached three, he had words to go along with his tantrum. He
would scream “I want it” over and over until we were ready to “give it to him”.
Of course we didn’t but the thought was in the front of our minds. The tantrums
were epic in proportion but didn’t last quite as long as the earlier ones. When
he realized he wasn’t getting what he wanted, he found something else to do.
He’s growing out of them, we thought innocently. We were wrong. Oh boy, were we
wrong.
Now that we are in the fours, the aforementioned opinions have kicked
in. Not being able to drink from the milk jug is “stupid”. The fact that we
don’t allow him to practice his artwork on the walls makes us “meaners.”
Watching the evening news (or anything else that doesn’t air on Disney) just
shouldn’t be permitted. This is when we hear…dum dum dum…the slamming door. He
stomps to his bedroom, muttering whatever nasty thing he can think of (and I
don’t want to know) and we wait for it. Five. Four. Yes, we count it down. Three. Two…SLAM!!! The door
opens, he yells out that we are the evilest, vilest creatures on the face of
the earth (my words there, not his) and … yes, SLAM!!! The next thing you hear
is YaYa’s feet stomping down the hall. You can guess the rest and door slamming
is over. For the moment.
AUTHORS NOTE: Elijah is not injured or abused in any form during the door
slamming incidents. His ears, however, occasionally ring at the volume of my
voice.
Elijah has also discovered the threat of law enforcement. When we tell
him he’s not allowed to go to his friends house to play because he hasn’t
picked up his toys, he tells us he is going to call the police and have them
take us to jail (insert the Southern form of jail which has six syllables).
Sheriff Jimmy is his friend and he apparently has handcuffs to take away bad
parents and grandparents. Sometimes we are tempted to let the good sheriff cuff us and go
just to have a night of peace and quiet.
That, peeps, is life with the current version of Elijah. It’s strange
that I am blissfully forgetful of these trying times when I was raising my own
children. I’m sure that now it’s just amplified because I am a little older
now…OK, FINE, I’m a lot older now. My only hope is that my sanity will survive the
raising of this child or that Deanna will find a home many miles from mine
before he reaches his teen aged years.
