ebb and flow of disliking my child

All parents go through moments when their child is not their favorite person. Like the time your child screams, “I need to go pee-pee” at the top of his lungs in the middle of a crowded and very small grocery. Of which there is no public restroom and you know damn well that kid just peed 5 minutes ago before you left the church. Or the time you took him to play “hockey” and informed him that you would be going to Starbucks to get him a cookie, but he’s 3 and doesn’t realize that Starbucks isn’t right. there. in that. very. place. So he goes into internal mode and sees nothing but red and there isn’t anything you can do to calm him down and he proceeds to scream like someone’s killing him as you remove him from the birthday party laden skating rink, through the over-full parking lot, into the car and 10 miles down the road. At which point he passes out from exhaustion*.

But there are times when your child is just the cutest stinking thing in the world. Like in a picture that doesn’t talk back or when he’s sleeping.

We’ve had more of the McScreamy around here than either of us care to handle at this point. Take for example our morning.

The three of us sit down to a nice breakfast and a Winnie the Pooh DVD commercial comes on the television (yes, we watch TV during breakfast). The trusty husband casually mentions that it is computer animated like Mickey’s Playhouse. He says this to me. The boy, always listening to what everyone is saying even if he’s at the other end of the house, informs us that he wants to watch Mickey. In this house Mickey is a weekend thing. Frankly because I think Mickey is a mouse-ka-tool. We tell the boy that it is Monday and there is no Mickey on. If he had asked again nicely I may have looked to see if it was on or even checked Disney on demand to see if it was listed. But did my child ask nicely? No. He screamed and in a half a second I was covered in fruity Cheerios and strawberry yogurt. This child flung his breakfast further than he’s ever flung it before. We haven’t had a food throwing episode in months. That child hurled his bowl so far there was yogurt on the chair in the living room. At that point all I could do is stare at him with my mouth agape. The trusty husband was out of his chair so fast I didn’t even see the child disappear. He grabbed his son and whisked him off to his bedroom small child screaming the whole way. Then Derek calmly proceeded to clean up. I stopped him to take a photo. Cause at that point, through my seething rage, I thought hey! now I at least have something to write about today.

If hurling food wasn’t enough, we later confined the child to the space in the house with the least amount of toys and he got pissed off because I think I might have been breathing too loudly or something and he hucked a shoe box at the TV.

All before my first sip of coffee this morning.

Later in the morning we did our usual trip to the veg store and the grocery and he was a perfect angel. He didn’t even harass me to use the toilet.

Yet again, I currently dislike him because when I nicely asked him to pick up his toys before nap he laughed at me and told me no. Repeatedly.

We’ll see what life holds after nap.


*both of those episodes have happened to me, exactly like that, without exaggeration.

15 Comment

  1. Wendy says: Reply

    I don’t condone child abuse but I can understand the urge to shake the ever-loving stuffin out of my child! But, on a good note, your boy has quite the arm!!!

  2. and he even did it with the LEFT arm. The right arm was reserved for hucking the spoon at his mother’s head. At least she’s developing some quick reflexes…

  3. Lena says: Reply

    Sorry, I’m smiling … this reminds me of my own strawberry yogurt cleaning day when little darling (forget which one) hurled container of yogurt of the high chair and I was left to clean stains …. off …. drumroll, please … the ceiling!!!

    This is one of those days when you say “it’s five o’clock somewhere” pop the top of something and move up kid bedtime to the minute trusty husband come home.

  4. Lauri says: Reply

    Gotta love three……. Livi yells ” mama I need to POOP” all the time in public.

  5. Willow says: Reply

    mouse-ka-tool, that’s good πŸ™‚
    i don’t know how many times a parent has said to me about their child’s photo: “they look so innocent there, not like they normally are”.
    elle you are daily confirmation that i need to not have children of my own…i can’t imagine how frustrating it would be to want to hurl your own little dr jeckyll/mr hyde across the room (just like he did with the cherrios!) and have to put all those feelings back inside. no thanks, i’ll take them the way i usually get them: innocent and cute, that’s just the way i like em πŸ™‚

  6. Or like the time the child pitches a big fit in front of the parents and defies me infront of my parents like tonight.


  7. Ugh. Not a fun day. But you still have a sense of humor — “Like in a picture that doesn?t talk back or when he?s sleeping.” Classic.

  8. Mom says: Reply

    Sometimes angelic is not the description that fits but I’m certain my grandson is incapable of which you describe. One can only assume that Derek didn’t like what was served for breakfast or perhaps… the cats knocked over the kitchen table. With his quirky little smile and angelic face….well….there’s gotta be another explanation.
    Tried calling again today and NEVER are you home! Would you guys be interested in that TV in our spare room?

  9. Bev says: Reply

    OK, Dad and I will try to post a moderately sane comment tomorrow . . . right after we quit laughing! The picture is priceless – he really had what one might call an “orgasmic meltdown”! LOLOLOLOLOLOLO (Sorry!) CSP’s totally entertained mom and dad.

  10. WOW. All I can say is WOW. I have no children (yet), but that boy of yours truly has an impressive throwing arm.

    I swear I’m not some random stranger…well, I guess Iam since we’ve never met. You know Jenny and Lena, yes? Me too! πŸ™‚

  11. Rhonda says: Reply

    OH MY GOSH. Oleg!!! All I can say is that Brian would have disappeared with Clyde just as quickly. Probably to protect the child. That would have lit the fuse straight to my red hair. At least Oleg knows how to make his opinion known. And creatively, with a bowl of yogurt.

    In a few years, Elle, we’ll look back and laugh. That’s what people tell me. I’m still trying to figure out when I will find it funny that Clyde climbed his dresser and ripped down the wallpaper cutouts off of his wall. But, I’m told by outsiders that its very entertaining.

  12. Jenny says: Reply

    Classic and yikes. and sorry. I feel your pain. Cammie whipped some stew at me tonight and got it all the way across the table. So, I am now prepared and should buy some plastic for my furniture

  13. Melissa says: Reply

    Too f-ing funny. I dislike my child too often for my taste. Mostly after he hawks (sp?) a loogey (sp?) right in my face. But of course, he is the most precious, silliest, funniest, cutest being on the planet. (yes, even more than Jason – don’t tell him I said so).


    I’m going to order some chili truffles. Wait how do I do that again?

  14. I mean, that’s pretty distressing, but hahahahahahahaha.


    Maybe he can be a baseball player?

  15. […] We have the return of the food throwing.? Sadly, the hacker from last year caused me to lose all of my posts relating to my child’s Olympic qualifying food shot put so I can’t link it.? For my newer readers, just know that my child is the champion of the food flingage as illustrated by this post. […]

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