Mr. Determined
If there's one thing we've learned about you over the past year, it's that you are very determined. One of the daycare teachers told me last summer that you were willful. They say that instead of stubborn these days to be politically correct, but they mean basically the same thing.
Willful. Determined. Persistent. I noticed it when you were younger in the way you would say something to me or to Daddy and if we didn't acknowledge you, you would continue to say it. Even if I smiled or nodded, you wanted a vocal response. And you kept at it until you got it. You still do.
I know these traits will serve you well in many areas of your life. You're not likely to settle for something you don't want. You probably won't shy away from your goals either.
But right now, those traits are causing a bit of a ruckus in this house.
Tonight you were watching Bat-hound movies on the computer with Daddy before bedtime. When he told you it was time to go upstairs, I could hear you screaming all the way up here. You'd already agreed that you could only watch one movie, and he reminded you of that as he started to walk you toward the stairs. Then your screams went up a notch when you decided, if you couldn't have the movie, then you were darn well going to be the one to put the computer to sleep. (You love to do that.)
Daddy let you do that to avoid broken eardrums.
But you still weren't happy. Daddy finally got you upstairs and asked you to get your PJs on and you started with arguing, moved to name calling, and then started spitting.
The punishment? Bedtime stories were taken away. You'd been warned a couple of times, so you suffered the consequences.
Certainly not gladly. The screaming broke out again with wails of, "Please, Daddy, give me one more chance! ONE MORE CHANCE!" Daddy stuck by his guns, as the saying goes. (Which you'll appreciate some day when you have kids of your own.) He offered to tuck you in, but you refused. Then he put on your music and left the room.
Oh, the hubbub!
I listened to you scream as I was putting dishes away. I listened to you scream as I was tidying up the dining room. I listened to you scream as I read a magazine. The same thing over and over: "I need more blankies! Daddy! I need more blankies!" (What you wanted was for someone to come tuck you in since you still refuse to do it yourself.)
Then: "Daddy, can you hear me? I need more blankies! I'm cold and I don't have enough blankies! I need you to put the blankies on me, Dad! DAAAAADDDD!"
New tactic: "Mom? Mommy? Are you there? I need more blankies! Mommy, please bring me more blankies!"
Sure, bring me into it.
This went on for more than 20 minutes. You would get quiet for 30 seconds or a minute, then bellow again. After a while, you tried asking for water: "I'm hot! I'm hot! I need a drink! Please, I need a drink of water!" Which completely contradicted your above statement that you were cold and needed blankies.
The best one made me stop in the middle of an article. You were back to the blankie refrain, pleading for someone to cover you up. "I don't know how you guys do it, but I just. Can't. Do. It!"
Five minutes later I caved. You were so hysterical that I just wanted to calm you down a bit. So I explained that tomorrow night we would begin practicing to put on our own blankets and that I would come in this once to tuck you in. This, of course, was followed by a request for a book, and then one more for a new pajama top.
You, sir, are one very persistent child.
