Meanie

I am being completely honest when I say that the last 48 hours have been the roughest in my mothering career, even considering being urgently gutted like a fish for my second-born breech baby, Cam. Over the last couple of days, my heart has been ripped out of my chest by my articulate son, Po, the subject of these writings.

My normally sweet, thoughtful, insightful kid has been the devil. Thoughtful and insightful in all the wrong ways with no sweet to lighten the load. I won't go in to all the details, but if you imagine the worst, imagine worse. After disciplinary actions I never thought I'd have to pull out of my back pocket (don't call the cops, just know that he's in bed without dinner, bath, and stories for the 2nd night in a row), I realize more than ever that with an extremely intelligent child, you have to keep things in check. We don't want intelligence veering off onto the wrong path.

So I had a little chat with Mr. Po this afternoon (clearly it didn't have the impact I'd hoped, seeing as he's on day 2 of lockdown). I said something pretty close to "Buddy, we've had a rough time, lately, and I'd like to talk to you about it." He snuggled up close. Ahhh.

"You have been really disrespectful, and that's disappointing because you are usually such a sweet boy. You've been really mad and upset, and I want you to know that it's okay to be mad and upset at me, but it's not okay to [throw all the laundry I've just folded all around the house with a giggle] disrespect my time and my belongings, [shove your sister because she has the purple crayon and that's your favorite color] touch your sister out of anger, or [allow your head to spin in circles, thrashing about on the ceiling and vomiting foul language as if Satan has...], scream the way you do when you're frustrated. It's okay to be mad, but you have to use the words you have and let me know how you feel rather than behaving like a banshee (yes, I said 'banshee,' and, yes, that is in Po's vocabulary.). What's going on? Are you upset about something? Please tell me how you feel."

Po declares, "I'm really mad at you, Mommy, because you're mean, and you hurt my feelings."

"Really?" I inquire from my [spoiled brat of a motha-] darling son. "How so?"

"Well, you say no to candy and gummy worms...and you make me eat a healthy lunch...and you say no when I want three gummy worms."

"Well, I can understand your frustration [do you even have a clue what my life frustrations are? I'm going to eat all the f-ing gummy worms right now you ungrateful little], love. I think I'm a pretty cool mom, and I think I do a lot of nice things for you. Can you think of just one nice thing I've done for you lately?"

"You bought me gummy worms."