2005-06-05
The Freakin' Bubble Mower
Those of you who are parents may be able to relate to this...I don't know. I hope so. I REALLY, REALLY hope so.
I am not a proponent of spanking or beating or corporal punishment. However, I have been known to swat or spank my kids a few times when all else has failed. I was thinking about this the other day...and I was remembering how my eldest son was when he was a toddler. He was a pretty typical little boy. Energetic, inquisitive, some may say...ohhhh I don't know....WILD, SPOILED....STRONG-WILLED....
Anyhow, when he would get mad at me, or when we would become locked in a battle of wills, he would adopt what I call his "plank" pose. He would stiffen up his body until he was as stiff as a board. He usually did this while he was riding in his umbrella stroller. No skin off my nose, right? Right. No problem until I got him out to the car and attempted to put him into his carseat, that is.
Have you ever attempted to force a rigid plank of wood into a curved shape? It's really, really hard to do. It doesn't want to bend. That wood wants to stay straight and rigid. So does that toddler.
Usually, if we were out at the car and this was going on, that meant we had been in a public place and he had started misbehaving and we were now LEAVING that public place. I didn't ever and don't argue with my children in public and do the old "now you better stop it or else...." routine. I would tell them to knock it off and if they didn't, we left. No messing around. Kids throw fits in an attempt to get their parents to do whatever it takes to calm them down in public. I removed the "public" part of it. It was pretty effective usually.
Anyhow, if we were out at the car, he would usually be in full tantrum mode...stiff as a board...and I'd be wrestling him out of his stroller into the car. When you've been attempting to calmly walk to your car with a raging 2 or 3 year old, by the time you actually REACH you car, you are usually really about one millisecond from committing some horrid really awful bad crime. You are ready to snap. But you are trying to maintain composure. Your child is screaming like a murder victim in their last death throes and generally they are so wound up by their own tantrum that they are hyperventilating and have tears, sweat and snot flying everywhere.
As for YOU...you probably have some sweat, and who knows...maybe tears and snot also running pretty freely.
You know that if you swat the child, somebody will SEE you do this and assume that the reason the child is in such a state is because you have been beating the hell out of him. So, you grind out threats between your clenched teeth. Which you might remember I said just a bit earlier that I don't do. I don't threaten and all that. Like not negotiating with terrorists? Yeah. I don't negotiate with children. *snort*
"Stop it right now! If you don't stop it right now, I'm going to spank you so bad when we get home that you won't know what on earth is going on! Please stop it now! Don't make me spank you!"
But the toddler is having none of it. This is now all about POWER, BABY! He or she has you BEGGING now, see? You think they are gonna give up that kind of power?
You are still trying to extricate the child from it's stroller restraints while the child has all 4 limbs outstretched as though rigor mortis has set in and is now turning purple in his face and is speaking in tongues.
You finally get the child out of the stroller and end up getting your foot tangled up in the wheels in the process, so you end up stumbling as you fall into the backseat with your child in your arms. Of course, your child is fighting you tooth and nail and screaming 'NO!!!!NO!!!!!!!" the whole time.
People begin to stare in real alarm.
Vaguely you realize you are kicking your leg behind you much as a dog does in order to free the stroller from your foot while you attempt to force your child into his car seat. However, the seat is curved, and your child is now straight.
"Sit down now. Do not make me abuse you. Please. Don't make me abuse you! I don't want to! Just sit in your seat! Now! I am going to have to spank you!"
You venture a covert swat on the leg, but you end up catching your arm on the front seat as you reach back and you end up with no momentum, thus a completely ineffectual swat.
Passersby, however, do see the swat and they do not know that it didn't make a good connection.
You are now a child abuser. Do not attempt to justify your behavior!
Meanwhile, you have managed to wrestle one toddler arm through the restraining strap and are working on the other arm while the tiny legs are furiously kicking and the grunting and retching noises are beginning to sound like the child may be getting ready to vomit because he has worked himself up so much. You get arm #2 restrained and all clips, clasps and buckles fastened properly. Now the toddler is safely restrained in his carseat, and if you thought he was mad BEFORE....well you ain't seen nothin' yet. Now he is REALLY PISSED because now he can't move anything but his head and legs, really.
But... The wrestling match is over for now. You are completely spent. You sink down onto the pavement beside your car. You look around you. The stroller is a few feet away on it's side, the diaper bag is also abandoned with a sippy cup hanging out. It looks like a crime scene and there are several people standing with open-mouthed dismay staring at you. Behind you, your precious darling child is turning purple and busting blood vessels in his neck and face and screaming "BUBBLE MOWER!!!!!!! I......WANT.....BUHHH BUHHHHHHH BUHHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBLE MOOOOOOWWWERRRRR......NOWWWWWW!!!!!!!!"
What he NEEDS is a good spanking. What he will NEVER get EVER EVER EVER in his LIFE is a Fisher-Price Bubble Mower. EVER. NEVER.
You drive home with him pitching this fit. Most children would give it up and wear themselves out and perhaps fall into an exhausted slumber with tears drying on their chubby cheeks.
You cry most of the way home because you are resisting the urge to beat the living daylights out of your one and only precious beautiful child who you love above all else. The willpower is really amazing. You, my friend, deserve a freakin' award or something.
You get home and get him out of the car, and into the house. He is still in full-on rage mode. However, you put him in his room, and then go into your room, where you flop upon your bed and scream into your pillow at the top of your lungs. If you were to attempt to touch him now, you would very likely kill him. So, you wait it out. He cries and screams in his room. You cry and scream in your room.
He gets a good whuppin'. He lives another day, as do you. He learns to not throw fits.
AND HE NEVER GETS A BUBBLE MOWER EVER EVER EVER IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE. EVER.
Currently listening:
Dude (Looks Like a Lady)
By Aerosmith
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