I know this is breaking the mommy blogging rules but I need to take a moment to bitch about my child. Yes, I know! We're only supposed to talk about how much we love our kids, and the cute and great things they do, or, barring that, how misunderstood they are because they are actually secretly wonderful even when they are misbehaving.
But come on, my son is a person, just like anyone else and that means he has strengths and weaknesses. Potentially annoying ones.
I LOVE my son. To pieces. And I will get all mama bear up in someone's ass if they try to mess with him. Chance is smart and super creative and I love that. The creativity is one of my favorite things about him. I love that he can whip out a story at a moments notice, that he is always thinking, that he looks at things in different ways, and says the unexpected thing. But sometimes? Those smarts and creativity?
Kill me. KILL ME!
Chance doesn't understand what "fast" is. Or at least he doesn't understand the difference between fast and slow. He doesn't understand the word "focus". And god forbid he actually does one thing at a time.
This morning we're trying to get ready to leave and we were ON TIME! and he insisted he wanted to do another homework sheet before school. So I, like a big dummy, said, "OK, if you go fast as we get ready we'll have time. So go fast." But the fast never happens.
When Chance finishes his homework sheet (which was punctuated by numerous unrelated questions), and I say "OK, write your name," he launches into a story. "What if Abraham Lincoln and the Mario Bros..."
When he actually writes his name he decides he must do each letter in a different color. Which is fine. As long as you do it quickly! Nope, he tries to start a discussion about the coolness of different colors. (Which I nip in the bud, to speed things up. I do a lot of bud nipping.)
If I say "come here, it's time to put on your shoes", Chance lays flat on the ground, points out that he's lying down, sits up, grabs a toy, and then spins around on his butt three times. By that time, I've snagged an ankle to haul him over.
This happens for EV-ERY-THING!
I try to give him useful definitions for what I'm talking about. Such as, "going fast" means only doing the things that need to be done, no extras. And then I point out what the extras are: telling a story, playing with toys, jumping up and down when I say "come here", trying to do two things at once. "Listening" means stop, looking at a person's face, not talking/interrupting, etc. But ARGH! This is not meant to be a "secretly wonderful even when he's misbehaving" post because seriously? Seriously? He's driving me nuts!! Some of it is the SPD, some of it is just his nature, and some of the time he really is just misbehaving because he thinks it's funny. (So NOT funny.)
I can usually repress the frustration. I'm very good at repression. But this morning I lost it and slammed my hands on the floor and now my wrist hurts.
Because I'm not perfect either!
- the weirdgirl