A Battle of the Strong-Willed

I’m not going to lose and I’m not going to cave in. I am the parent. I am older. I am wiser and frankly my will and determination are greater than that of my 2 year old, or at least I hope. No wait, it is greater. I will win this battle.

How do you parent a child who is exactly like you? How do you discipline and teach a child who is as hard-headed, stubborn, smart, and strong-willed as you are? I don’t know, but you better bet your Uncle Ronnie’s britches that I’m going to find out and I’m going to do it. I will be the victor.

Lately, Davey is refusing to take naps, to listen to me and my husband, and to behave. Frankly, he’s becoming the spawn of Satan! Last week, while he was suppose to be taking a nap, he instead decided to climb on his dresser, the one thing we don’t have bolted to a wall. Of course, the dresser toppled over on him. We went to the doctor and there were zero injuries. Hopefully, my name wasn’t flagged by the doctor to report to DSS for child endangerment. I ask Davey what was he thinking? What was he doing? He’s remark to me with the most sweet and innocent eyes, “I don’t know, Mama.” Great! He did; however, tell me that he was interested in making his own steps so he pulled the drawers out, staggering them, and tried to climb them and that is why the dresser fell over on him. The kid has ingenuity. I will give him that!

“Davey, did you learn your lesson?”
“Oh, yes, Mama.” And then the next day, I caught him trying to climb MY dresser!

Most days our lives consist of the following:
“Davey, don’t touch that! It will burn you.”
“Ok, Mama.” And then he starts reaching for it again.

“Davey, please don’t climb on that rocking chair. It could flip over on you.”
“Ok, Mama.” And he continues to stand in the chair, draping over the back of it as he rocks harder and harder.

I don’t want to be a so-called “helicopter mom”. You know what sort of mom I’m talking about! Heck, some of you probably ARE helicopter moms. I don’t want to hover over him. I know he will have injuries and I know he must learn on his own, but really? Why is it so hard to just do as I say? Can’t you just understand that everything I’m doing is in your own best interest and I’m not talking just to hear myself speak? Ugh!

I’ve always sworn against the backpacks with the leashes for kids. I’ve always thought they were demeaning and belittled children, not to mention the fact that they seem to take away the child’s sense of dignity. These days? I’m not so concerned about how they make Davey feel. I don’t have the ability to chase after him while carrying a 12 pound infant in a baby carrier. I’m not Wonder Woman, for crying out loud. If wearing a leash makes you feel like a dog, my son, then perhaps you shouldn’t run around like a dog thus forcing me to use the intrepid leash!

Mr. Independent can do everything on his own. “I do it, Mama.” “No, Mama, not hold my hand.” And all of this is occurring as I’m trying to drag him out the door or down the street while his legs have become like wet spaghetti noodles. I actually had to tackle him last week at the gym just so he wouldn’t run out into the parking lot. When I got up with my hysterically laughing child, I was immediately met with looks of shock and consternation from the senior adults in the gym. What I must look like to them! And did their children NEVER do this? According to the glares I was receiving, “no” their children NEVER behaved this way.

We are learning the importance of at least holding mommy’s hand while crossing the street, but not the importance of still taking a nap. Important in the aspect that I NEED some quiet time from the Terrible Twoodler and that really he’s just a better child in the evenings. I will; however, win this battle as well.

Before having children, I used to count the minutes on the clock until it was 5 and I could go home. Now, I just count the minutes on the clock until my husband gets home and even then I’m much too exhausted to really be any fun.

So, as another day is wrapping up, I’m once again faced with a non-sleeping toddler and a 2 month old who doesn’t want to be anywhere except tied to my breast! Oh, I know I will look back on these days with much love, but right now this mama could do with a little respect and R&R.


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