Today, Lucas said, “when you yell at me, I’m not going to listen! You just have to tell me.”
(It’s 1am. I have no idea what I’m writing. Don’t judge me.)
Like, tell me, mom.
I think one of, actually, perhaps – highlighted capitalized italicized bolded – the most frustrating things is when my kids don’t listen. Oh my gosh. I say something, and they just totally ignore me. Like child, just straight up ignoring me. You are not listening. Are your ears not working?
I’m like, put your shoes on. Okay 16th time now, put your shoes on.
My husband ask once, they listen so much better. With me, it’s like war. Some days are good, some days not and I am not kidding, I sound like a freaking broken record and I get sick of hearing myself speak out loud.
So, this morning I yelled at him. I hate doing it, and I don’t mean to, but sometimes I don’t know what else to do, you know? I feel like it’s the only way to get through to him… but clearly it doesn’t work too well.
My husband instructs me, you have to make him do it. You tell him once and then if he doesn’t do it you have to physically make him do it. Bring him over to the stairs, sit him down, hand him his shoes and make him put them on.
But why can’t he just listen?
This afternoon, he wanted to put his airplane in his bike which was outside which was 10 minutes after I put him in his room for nap time. He comes out and tells me his game plan. I just need to put my airplane in my motorcycle and i’ll be riiiight back. I tell him very calmly that no, you are not. — Insert mom talk here — He doesn’t listen, and walks downstairs to put his airplane in his motorcycle. (Kid, you are never riding a motorcycle until you are out of my house.) I don’t say much at this point. I just give him my awesome mom look and watch him. He eyes me the whole time, comes back up the stairs, tilts his head and says like he’s made of sugar, are you mad?
I didn’t have to say much. He knew he was making a poor choice, he knew he wasn’t listening and following directions.
I’m sorry, he says, sugar frosting coming out of his ears, I just wanted to put my airplane in my motorcycle.
So, I suppose if I was doing it the right way, I would have followed him, turned him around and walked him back upstairs to his room. But I also know that Lucas is smart and, yeah..
They do listen so much better when you’re calm though, right? I think so, at least with my kiddo. I am trying to be more strict and matter-of-a-fact and calm. Clearly yelling doesn’t get you anywhere and he doesn’t like it and gosh, he even straight up told me if I yell at him he’s not going to listen to me. Haha.
The little monkey, oh my word, how does he do it? He is the most stubborn strong willed kid.
We went to Fred Meyer today, and I was getting the “race car cart” (awful disgusting, uncomfortably large and awkward to push) ready to go and, I guess my children were making noises…. a cute lady says to me, “they sound like monkeys over there.” And I’m like, “yep! They are monkeys!”
Cute blonde haired perfect sweet growing way too fast monkeys.