Driven to drink
Nov. 9th, 2008 01:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
averygoodun42Last night, just as Geoff and I were about to turn off the light, Babe woke up and started fussing. Then, when Geoff went down to see what was wrong, he started screaming. He screamed and he screamed and he screamed. After about five or ten minutes of his screaming at his dad, I went down. And he kept screaming. And screaming. And screaming.
He wanted some ginger ale. He wanted us to go away so that he could get the ginger ale out of the fridge and drink it. And he wouldn't take no as an answer.
After forty minutes of screaming and hitting and major tantrum having, I took the ginger ale from the fridge and dumped it down the sink. Five intense minutes later, Babe had turned to apple juice as the answer, and we again said no.
I also told him that if he hit either one of us again he was getting spanked. Fortunately for him, he believed me.
Geoff, still feeling sick, finally left for bed, taking the apple juice with him. Babe was nearly in hysterics. Actually, he might have been hysterical. It took another ten minutes before Babe calmed down enough to be somewhat rational, and I made a deal with him: if he went to the bathroom (he'd been holding it for many hours at that point), I would give him a small glass of apple juice.
Thank god he agreed.
Also thank god that he cared more for a full glass than for potency, because he asked for water in the apple juice to make it more than half empty. He then happily (and cheerfully) went over to his makeshift bed and took a big gulp of apple juice, followed by a big gulp of the water we'd been offering for the entire hour.
Then he asked for his "four-year-old bottle" of milk. It was dirty, and it was getting on for one o'clock. I was not washing it so he could sip some milk. I offered him a glass of milk, he started in on the hysterics again. I threw in the towel and went to bed. Fortunately, he quieted down as soon as I was out of the room.
So, that was last night. This morning he was happy and cheerful and awake, so we went to church. But then he didn't want to go to his class. I was not committed to staying at church, so I gave him the choice of going to his RE classroom or going home. It took a while and someone else's intervention, but we got him into class.
Then, after church at social hour, he disappeared. No one had seen him. I was starting to worry about him having gone outside when he finally showed up, blandly looking for me.
When we left shortly after that, he was surprisingly easy to get out of there, though then he absolutely refused to hold my hand as we walked up the street. Holding of hands is required by us when on a street or in a parking lot. So I told him to walk on the other side of the parked cars (no sidewalk). He did for one car, then weaved around to be in the street again as soon as I had walked to the safe side of the cars (when there was room for me). So I asked for his hand. He wouldn't give it to me. I tried to take it. He started screaming.
At this point I was getting a little fed up, as you might imagine.
I finally yelled at him when he gave me attitude about getting into the car.
We had a chat on the way home about how I was tired because I'd been up half the night dealing with a cranky boy. He yelled back that he wasn't cranky. I calmly disagreed.
Then, we got home. I asked if he wanted to ride his bike, and he said yes. We went inside to get his helmet, which he happily put on, but he wouldn't wear his jacket. Granted, it was warm inside the church and the car and the house, but it was getting pretty nippy outside, and he's only just getting over a cold. He had another screaming fit.
After about three minutes of holding him as he tried to flail, I finally gave up and told him to go ahead and freeze. He happily escaped outside and I guiltily escaped upstairs to join (a now awake) Geoff in bed.
Two minutes later he was back inside saying it was cold out there.
His voice was pretty cheerful, though I refused to go downstairs to join him. In fact, I wasn't even able to contemplate going downstairs to face him until I realized there was still tea in the house, and, by gosh, I needed a cup.
And it has mellowed me out quite a bit, though my patience is very, very thin for yelling and bossing today. Poor, sick Geoff might have to take Babe out, because I'm done. I am proud of myself for not having hit (or strangled) Babe, and I want to keep it that way.
He wanted some ginger ale. He wanted us to go away so that he could get the ginger ale out of the fridge and drink it. And he wouldn't take no as an answer.
After forty minutes of screaming and hitting and major tantrum having, I took the ginger ale from the fridge and dumped it down the sink. Five intense minutes later, Babe had turned to apple juice as the answer, and we again said no.
I also told him that if he hit either one of us again he was getting spanked. Fortunately for him, he believed me.
Geoff, still feeling sick, finally left for bed, taking the apple juice with him. Babe was nearly in hysterics. Actually, he might have been hysterical. It took another ten minutes before Babe calmed down enough to be somewhat rational, and I made a deal with him: if he went to the bathroom (he'd been holding it for many hours at that point), I would give him a small glass of apple juice.
Thank god he agreed.
Also thank god that he cared more for a full glass than for potency, because he asked for water in the apple juice to make it more than half empty. He then happily (and cheerfully) went over to his makeshift bed and took a big gulp of apple juice, followed by a big gulp of the water we'd been offering for the entire hour.
Then he asked for his "four-year-old bottle" of milk. It was dirty, and it was getting on for one o'clock. I was not washing it so he could sip some milk. I offered him a glass of milk, he started in on the hysterics again. I threw in the towel and went to bed. Fortunately, he quieted down as soon as I was out of the room.
So, that was last night. This morning he was happy and cheerful and awake, so we went to church. But then he didn't want to go to his class. I was not committed to staying at church, so I gave him the choice of going to his RE classroom or going home. It took a while and someone else's intervention, but we got him into class.
Then, after church at social hour, he disappeared. No one had seen him. I was starting to worry about him having gone outside when he finally showed up, blandly looking for me.
When we left shortly after that, he was surprisingly easy to get out of there, though then he absolutely refused to hold my hand as we walked up the street. Holding of hands is required by us when on a street or in a parking lot. So I told him to walk on the other side of the parked cars (no sidewalk). He did for one car, then weaved around to be in the street again as soon as I had walked to the safe side of the cars (when there was room for me). So I asked for his hand. He wouldn't give it to me. I tried to take it. He started screaming.
At this point I was getting a little fed up, as you might imagine.
I finally yelled at him when he gave me attitude about getting into the car.
We had a chat on the way home about how I was tired because I'd been up half the night dealing with a cranky boy. He yelled back that he wasn't cranky. I calmly disagreed.
Then, we got home. I asked if he wanted to ride his bike, and he said yes. We went inside to get his helmet, which he happily put on, but he wouldn't wear his jacket. Granted, it was warm inside the church and the car and the house, but it was getting pretty nippy outside, and he's only just getting over a cold. He had another screaming fit.
After about three minutes of holding him as he tried to flail, I finally gave up and told him to go ahead and freeze. He happily escaped outside and I guiltily escaped upstairs to join (a now awake) Geoff in bed.
Two minutes later he was back inside saying it was cold out there.
His voice was pretty cheerful, though I refused to go downstairs to join him. In fact, I wasn't even able to contemplate going downstairs to face him until I realized there was still tea in the house, and, by gosh, I needed a cup.
And it has mellowed me out quite a bit, though my patience is very, very thin for yelling and bossing today. Poor, sick Geoff might have to take Babe out, because I'm done. I am proud of myself for not having hit (or strangled) Babe, and I want to keep it that way.
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 08:07 pm (UTC)Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 08:11 pm (UTC)Oh, and LOL! PMS, indeed. I thought he'd just got over that, actually. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 08:21 pm (UTC)So, hang in there, it will be better for some time until it starts all over again :-)
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 11:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 12:22 am (UTC)I guess a mother's love saves her son. Again, and again, and again.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 01:16 am (UTC)Alas, this, too, shall pass.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 05:39 pm (UTC)You are not the only person dealing with crazy amounts of screaming from the young ones as of late. I am so sorry he's being so miserable. He is usually such an adorable child.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 08:38 pm (UTC)