It's Tuesday, which is our family day. We close the gallery and spend some quality time together. Both Precious and Mr. Man are still sick. Even though, we thought it might be nice to go out for lunch and maybe let Mr. Man play at the arcade for awhile. I found a great new game that I'm totally hooked on. (that's a different post)
After about an hour of mindless money wasting it was time to go. Mr. Man decided that this would be a good time to pitch a fit. The place was packed too. Spring break and all. He starts screaming, "I'm not happy!", and trying to get away from us. Of course it caused a scene.
Trying to explain to a three year old why he should be grateful that he got to go play in the first place, is like talking your car into not burning fuel. It just doesn't work. All he knew is that we had ruined his fun.
On the way home he decides that he hadn't had enough yet. More crying, kicking the seat and then he went for broke. "I HATE YOU GUYS."
That one was over the top. When we got home I escorted him to his room for a talk and a lengthy time out. Again, I might as well have been talking to his bed. I tried to explain again that getting to have fun is something to be grateful for. Thanking us would be a better move than getting nasty, and beyond that we will not tolerate the I hate you comments.
It's heart breaking. We knew he was sad. We try to cut him some slack for not feeling well, but we will not have an unruly brat for a child.
It amazes me how much this little person has changed me. I see everything differently. I react differently. I think differently. He can bring such joy one minute and have us at wits end the next.
It never stops. From the time he wakes up until he goes to sleep, we have to be on top of things. When he's sick, we're up all night checking on him and worrying. It's exhausting. Sometimes, being a parent makes me want to do something mild and stress free, like working for the bomb squad.