Yesterday, I darted outside to complete an important telephone conversation with my sister in reference to hotel reservations for our upcoming trip. Unable to stand himself if he listened to me for too long, my three year old followed me outside. Once outside, he immediately darted into the street and into my neighbor's rather thick hedge. I was looking for him in the bushes when I noticed a truck stopped in the middle of the street, fearing the worst I started running. Fortunately, while it was indeed my son in the street, the truck had not hit him, and was waiting for me to go and get him.
Yesterday, he removed his clothing and diaper numerous times. I can't even begin to tell you the exact number. He peed on my upholstered bar stool, my floor, my cat. No matter how many times I redressed him, he undressed himself again. No matter how many times he sat on the potty, he found an inappropriate place to do his business.
As there was so much spilled water and pee all over our house, H decided he would help clean up. He paper towelled our living room. An entire roll spread out all over while I ran after him...and all my son could do was laugh...and run even faster of course.
At this very moment he is screaming after fighting with his brother on the stairs and then falling down half the stairwell. This is only moments after he stopped screaming after me spanking him (no I don't actually believe in spanking, H is the only one of my children that I have ever spanked) for pouring an entire bottle of water out on the floor for no reason...other than to make me mad. Between yesterday and today he has poured out the contents of an entire case of water all over my house. By now you are saying, does she watch this kid? The answer is yes. There are times when I am looking directly at him, unable to stop him as I am changing a diaper or feeding a baby.
By this paragraph, he has recovered from his fall and is repeatedly slamming doors upstairs. I. Am. Losing. My. Mind. I can't understand why he is acting like this, ALL OF THE TIME! I don't understand what I have to do to get through to him.
When I think we have reached a new low for bad behaviour, somehow he manages to sink lower still. Like the box of cheddar bunnies he just grabbed out of his sister's hands and shook out on the floor and is at this very moment jumping on the pieces to crush them.
I am to the point that the very idea of hours between lunch and bedtime evoke tears. How do other mothers do it? How do you do it?