Rewind back a couple weeks to one constantly fussy two year old. I suddenly got the bright idea to start NOT giving him what he wanted when he fussed for it. So, when I hear "APPLE JUICE Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee", I ignore it. Then I say, "If you want something, you need to ask for it nicely". Eventually, after a few time outs and lessons, he learned that if he wanted something, he needed to put on this huge horrendous fake smile and say "Please Mommy apple juice?!". And usually he would get what he was asking for. Although for a while he thought that no matter what it was, he had a right to it when he asked nicely. ("No, honey, thank you for asking so nicely, but we're not going outside to play at 11:00 at night").
So, I think he's starting to get the hang of it. Just last weekend, when we were in the car on our way home from shopping, he started getting really cranky. I knew he was hungry, and told him we were going to eat in a minute, but he just kept whining - getting louder and louder. Just when we were almost there, he got very quiet, and stated quite matter-of-factly, "Bent fussy??"
"Yes, you're a little fussy, but I know it's because you're hungry," I told him.
"Bent happy now!" And...he meant it. He smiled the rest of the way.
So now, whenever he gets the cranky bug, I ask him if he needs to take a time out, and he immediately replies, "No, Bent happy!"
But (and this is the dangerous part) he is now trying to turn this against me. A conversation last night:
Setting - it's 9 pm. He's been in his room trying to get to 'sleep' for an hour. After having several requests for pop tarts and 'outside' turned down, he falls back on the sure bet.
"Go pee-pee, Mommy?!"
"You really have to go?"
"Uh huh...go pee-pee"
"You promise??"
"Yes, go pee-pee NOW"
I go get the potty seat ready (BENT DO DAT MOMMY!!) and pull down his pants (NO!! BENT DO DAT!). And he sits on the seat. Suddenly a huge smile spreads across his face. His eyes twinkle like a thousand mischievous stars. I know I've been had once again, and he knows that I know. Our unspoken understanding silences the bathroom. I'm trying to hold in my anger, he's trying not to break out into sobs of laughter, which makes me angrier, which in turn makes him want to laugh even harder. We stare deep into each other's eyes in a standoff.
"Brent, you need to go pee-pee right now"
"No, Mommy"
"You said you had to go, now you better manifest SOMETHING in this potty right now"
"Ummmm....no....no pee pee"
"Try anyways"
"Mmmmmm....no go potty,"
I considered squeezing him for a moment just to have some productivity, but that didn't seem altogether
motherly.
More silence. He still wore a embarrassingly large grin and big victorious eyes. I drew a long breath. Then he reached a hand over and put it on my cheek very tenderly.
"Be happy, Mommy??" He tilted his head to the side and asked in a parent-tone, not unlike the one I had been using on him lately. Then he couldn't contain himself any longer. His shoulders began shuddering and his lips started sputtering - and then all that held-in laughter just came pouring out. Next thing you know, we were both dying with laughs so big they hurt, tears streaming down my cheeks. I pulled him off and re-dressed him. He gave me a big kiss and puttered off to his bed.
"Lost another battle, did you?" Andy asked when I came back in the room.
"Yep, looks that way" I replied.
But somehow I still feel like a winner.