I am being tested.
By my children.
Or, more specifically, my eldest child.
Today I picked up G from Preschool. On our way home, we stopped at "the vegetable store" to pick up some extra veggies for dinner. Griffin wanted to bring Cody, his new pet snail (aka a snail shell in a container) into the store. I said no - not only did I not want him to lose it, but I had big plans for him to help me carry stuff since I had Corben in the car seat, so I wanted both his hands free. He didn't agree with my decision. I stuck to my guns. He stuck to his.
So we left the vegetable store. Didn't even make it out of the car in fact.
Cue the fit.
Griffin screamed at the top of his lungs, all the way home.
We arrived home, and the reality that we were not, in fact, going back to the vegetable store really sunk in, despite me telling him 35 times on the way home that we were not going back. The fit went up a level.
I unbuckled him from his seat, told him he could come inside when he was ready. He got angry. Tried to hit me. Tried to kick me. And then reached over and smacked Corben.
And that's when I got VERY angry.
After a nice long 10 minute time out in his room, we resumed our afternoon. Went outside. Played.
It was lovely.
He refused to eat. I usually don't fight about food, I figure if the kid wants to go hungry he's more than welcome to, but he hasn't eaten a decent meal in days, which I figured was partially responsible for his foul mood.
So I said eat. He said no. I said how about 5 bites. He said no. I told him I was going to pack up his shows if he didn't listen. He said no again. So I packed up his shows.
And then he hit me.
And then he tried to kick me.
And then I told him if he kicked me, or hit me again, he was going to bed. (It was 5:30.)
He kicked me, and I promptly carried him up to his room.
3 hours later, he's still up there, AND he's still awake.
He's waiting for me to give in, and come up and lie down with him.
But I won't.
Is there something in the air? I know something similar has been going down in the Burgh recently. And there was something about emptying all the toys out of some Yankee three year old's room that I saw this week. So I'm glad it's not just my kid. Seriously though, is it the heat? The humidity? The long days? Or is it 3?
Whatever it is, it needs to stop.
Dear Child: I am in charge here. Not you.
Best you be learning that soon, otherwise it's going to be a looong summer. For the both of us. (Especially if I keep having brainiac ideas to take away shows....)