Four and a half year olds are not always the nicest or most cooperative small people in the world. I hope this is not news to you. It wasn't news to me, but I was surprised by the depth to which their mood swings might affect me.
One morning, as we struggled to get out of the house, I had to deal with mini meltdowns on a series of events - someone had wanted me to snuggle with him for five more minutes before I took a shower, another had wanted me to wake him up so he could sit outside the bathroom while I got ready, someone wanted to sleep two minutes longer but then was upset that she didn't get to be the first to get dressed. Someone was upset that he hadn't gotten to help make lunches the night before and someone else was upset that I didn't choose a superhero tshirt for him. Someone else had to have long sleeves and someone else needed to wear a dress.
All of these little fires got put out, the whining ended, and we moved on to the next one. We finally got out the door and I got them in their seats. They have "assigned" seats in the car, but often want to "trade". Daniel was playing on the sidewalk as I got Max and Caroline into the car. Max and Caroline chose their seats and I asked Daniel if that was ok. He ignored me, so I asked again. He still ignored me and we were running late, so I put her in the seat, took his hand, and walked him around the car to get in on the other side.
Instant meltdown. He did not want to sit there. That seat was NOT his favorite. He did not TELL me to put him in that seat. But we were late, and he hadn't paid attention when he had a chance to give his opinion. So I drove to school while telling him I was sorry he was upset but that we would move on and he'd be fine.
He did not agree.
Halfway into Golden Gate Park, Max suggested that we could stop and switch seats because he did not want his brother to be so sad. OK. I caved. I pulled over to the side of the road and prepared to move the kids around. I don't really remember who was where to start and how they ended up, but I think what happened was that they ended up in their "assigned" seats.
When I'd finished running back and forth buckling and unbuckling and buckling them in again, and held myself back from yelling at the man who honked at me because he couldn't figure out how to turn right at the corner without driving at the curb for the length of a block, I got in the driver's seat and immediately Daniel dropped a toy on the floor and wailed about it. So I got back out to retrieve it, telling him this was it.
As I opened his door, I stepped in a pothole, turning my left knee and twisting my right ankle and falling into the car onto Daniel. I caught myself against the side of the chair, but I was yelping a bit with shock and pain, so I'm sure it was slightly terrifying for him. I got back to my seat, buckled myself in, and I proceeded to cry. It was just too much stress.
And two blocks later, Daniel said in a low, calculated voice, "I do not like that crying."
I was floored. Really? Seriously? I took a deep breath and said, in an equally low, calculated voice, "Well, Daniel, I do not like when you yell and cry and scream to get your way when you could just listen to me when I give you choices."
Silence.
And then, "I do not like that mean voice."
I gave up.
I dropped them at school and gave them hugs and kisses, noting that there were no remnants of their bad moods at all. When I came back at the end of the day to pick them up they can streaming up to me to hug me, huge smiles on their faces, and Daniel saying, "Mommy! I do not want you to get hurt and use your mean voice on the way home." I guess that's an apology?
It had been Caroline who acted up more often, but she has balanced out a bit (knocking furiously on wood) and recently when she gave me a hard time in the morning she actually apologized as we drove away in the car telling me she was sorry she had been mean to me. So maybe with a little bit more self-recognition all around we can turn a corner.
But, man, just tell me it gets easier as they get older....please?
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