Sometimes I wonder why I look so forward to weekends. Because at the end of them, I'm grouchy and tired and depressed and anxious to get back to work. And there's a 5-year-old reason why.
Everything's a freaking negotiation with him. If we don't let him watch TV or eat what he wants or play computer games or scream and run and throw sharp objects in the house, he cries and wails and rants. And then he gets a time out (he's wearing a dent in the chair seat, I swear). If we do let him do these things, when we tell him it's quitting time, he starts all over with the crying and wailing and ranting.
He expects us to sit on the floor, play with him all day, and hang on his every word. Some people might give that knowing look and mutter "only-child syndrome." But if I had one more of these, I seriously would be rocking back and forth in my footie pajamas on the psych floor at University Hospitals. All this neediness...I know I signed up for this when I became a parent, but for the love of all that is holy, could we just do one damn thing, or not do one damn thing, without starting the Mother of all Whinefests?
There's a foot of snow on the ground, which makes ordering him to go outside and play nearly impossible. It's cold. It takes half an hour to get all the paraphernalia on. And he won't go out unless I go out, and maybe I'm a selfish beast, but I honestly do not want to go outside. He doesn't really want to go out, either. He wants to plant himself in front of Playhouse Disney with his fruitless fruit snacks and his gritchy demeanor and order me to watch with him and laugh in all the right parts and put my book down and don't knit and get off the computer, Mommy, and pay attention to ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The house is a wreck. The laundry's piled up. There's next to nothing (that hasn't expired) in the fridge. I have errands to run but nothing I can do with a crying, wailing, ranting 5-year-old.
And I haven't even mentioned that annoying snorting, snot-sucking thing he keeps doing with his nose. Again. And again. And again. All. Day. Long.
Everything's a freaking negotiation with him. If we don't let him watch TV or eat what he wants or play computer games or scream and run and throw sharp objects in the house, he cries and wails and rants. And then he gets a time out (he's wearing a dent in the chair seat, I swear). If we do let him do these things, when we tell him it's quitting time, he starts all over with the crying and wailing and ranting.
He expects us to sit on the floor, play with him all day, and hang on his every word. Some people might give that knowing look and mutter "only-child syndrome." But if I had one more of these, I seriously would be rocking back and forth in my footie pajamas on the psych floor at University Hospitals. All this neediness...I know I signed up for this when I became a parent, but for the love of all that is holy, could we just do one damn thing, or not do one damn thing, without starting the Mother of all Whinefests?
There's a foot of snow on the ground, which makes ordering him to go outside and play nearly impossible. It's cold. It takes half an hour to get all the paraphernalia on. And he won't go out unless I go out, and maybe I'm a selfish beast, but I honestly do not want to go outside. He doesn't really want to go out, either. He wants to plant himself in front of Playhouse Disney with his fruitless fruit snacks and his gritchy demeanor and order me to watch with him and laugh in all the right parts and put my book down and don't knit and get off the computer, Mommy, and pay attention to ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The house is a wreck. The laundry's piled up. There's next to nothing (that hasn't expired) in the fridge. I have errands to run but nothing I can do with a crying, wailing, ranting 5-year-old.
And I haven't even mentioned that annoying snorting, snot-sucking thing he keeps doing with his nose. Again. And again. And again. All. Day. Long.
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