Last week was a lousy week by any standards. Husband was away and by Thursday evening I was almost ready for the nervous hospital. Wed was particularly sucktackular, and there was some yelling. I am not proud of it, but this is more or less the stuff I did that was met with yelling. Could it be my technique?
1. Turned off the TV. (Possibly without warning.) Pumpkin Pie had been watching since he got home from school and he was growing antenna out of his head like Jimmy Jet. He was tired and wanted to watch tv more than he wanted to do anything else except scream. He involuntarily went to his room where he continued to scream.
2. Pointed out to Sweet Pea that he had weeks to prepare for the Jazz Band audition happening the next day even though he didn’t start practicing until that afternoon. Procrastinating is just his way. Yelling and sobbing began, then promises to practice all night if that’s what it takes and he probably should get up extra early and practice tomorrow morning. Yeah, right. Oops, did I say that out loud?
3. Suggested to Sweet Pea that he finish his Math homework BEFORE he continued practicing for the Jazz Band audition. More yelling and argument ensued that math is stupid and he has lots of chances to turn in homework and only one chance to audition for Jazz Band and why don’t I care about anything he really wants and can he get up extra early to practice. Oh yeah, well Math is NOT stupid and you had weeks to practice and only one night for this math homework and you are wasting time arguing with me and… Ooops, out loud again. Crap.
4. Countering Sweet Pea’s suggestion that I don’t care about anything he wants (being in the Jazz Band, for example) by pointing out that weeks ago I offered to ask his former music teacher for a lesson to help him out and Sweet Pea said maybe and wandered off. Take that, Sweet Pea! Sigh. I am sensing a pattern here.
5. Suggesting to Pickles that now may not be the best time for me to help him study for next week’s Math test. I know. It’s just his way. (Side note: If one of your kids procrastinates, the other has to be pathologically worried about stuff weeks in advance. It is Mother Nature’s way of keeping parents from getting bored. She likes to mix things up. I sometimes wish I could puree them both and form two new children.) I didn’t get into a fight with Pickles, but I did give him a look that wasn’t very understanding. And in Pickles’ defense, this time he didn’t actually yell at me. He just pouted. That’s also his way.