I don't know where to start, so I'll tell you about our morning. A typical day and our first little tantrum. I drink tea in the mornings and Butters gets his own mug with blueberry tea. Today he wanted to try mine. I told him no. It was hot and it's Earl Grey with a bit of sugar and milk, he'll like it too much and I'll never get to drink in peace again! We make some play-dough snakes and I try to write this. Butters comes back for tea. He sees my spoon and asks to "Dip it?" Okay, I relent. I let him do it a few times. "That's enough," I say.
Tears start streaming down his face. I can't reward him now, what if he thinks this technique will work in the future? So, I try to distract him, "Let's go make breakfast, what should we make?" "Cookies." "Maybe we can have cookies later today, but not for breakfast."
More tears. Okay, I'll let him get this out and I give him a big hug. We're in the kitchen; he spots my lunch box collection above the shelves. "Piggies. Play with." Up until this point, I've never let him play with the lunchboxes, T thinks I'm mean, but that could be his college fund some day! Great, he's calming down, we can play with the Pigs in Space lunchbox. It's full of old corks for a craft project I'll probably never do. He points to the Return of the Jedi, I hand him that one. He's happy moving corks from one to the other and counting them. "One, two, three, two, five, six, seven, nine, ten." I work on breakfast and turn on some Liz Phair to continue his feminist music tutelage. (He heard Ani Difranco at the Warfield in SF when I was 8 months pregnant, thanks Gillian!)
Bang. Bang. BANG. He's banging on Pigs in the Space with the tea spoon. "Oohhh, hey buddy, let's play with this Holly Hobbie instead, it has a lower resale value. Isn't it fun."
Now, we are finishing breakfast and trying to decide what to do today. It's going to be around 65 and sunny. It's about 70 in the house as we can't open the large windows in the front two rooms, but I don't mind because it's making the dog nice and tired!