In general I think that we are pretty good about sticking to what we say when we tell Alex he can't have or do something. But there are definitely times that both of us have given in to his demands in exchange for release from the tantrum strong hold he has us trapped in at that very moment. Those times are few and far between. At least I think they are few and far between. My brain has a remarkable resemblance to mashed potatoes at the end of each day, so I could be completely fooling myself and I would never know. Until, of course, I have a demon child that Satan himself refuses to babysit. Let's hope I am not fooling myself.
The nuk has become my sticking point of being tougher. I haven't actually told him he can't have it yet, so I haven't gone back on anything. But, he doesn't use it at all at daycare. All day long, he is a nuk-free kid. Even during his nap. The second I walk in, he walks up to me, gets his forehead all wrinkly and his eyes super sad and says, "Gaga? Gaga?" Not sure why orwhen he started calling his nuk Gaga, but whatever...not the point. The point is, he clearly does not have a need for it. When it is put away at daycare he is fine. So it's me and my unwillingness to tough it out. Unwillingness to make him sad. Unwillingness to listen to the whining. Which is stupid since the whining will not last that long I am guessing. I know I just said a week or two ago that he wasn't ready to get rid of it. Well, the times they are a-changin'. We shall see when I decide to formulate and implement Operation Nuk Removal.
Travis on the other hand showed he is a huge pushover last night. Alex was "helping" him with some project he had created for himself. The project ended and Travis took Alex downstairs with him to put the tools away. Downstairs in the basement. The basement where we keep the shop vac stored. Immediately I hear On?On?On? coming from down there. Followed by Travis saying, "No buddy. We don't need to vacuum tonight." Aaaaaaand crying sobbing screaming. So Trav brings Alex upstairs still saying no. 0.56 seconds after being upstairs I hear him say, "Do you really want to vacuum? I will bring it up, but no more crying." As he was lugging it through the kitchen I gave him a Way to Stick To Your Guns look. He justification? It breaks his heart to make his boy sad. Truth. It sucks making your kid sad. But we gotta do it.
This morning Alex immediately started playing with the stupid shop vac. I had to get him dressed while he was holding onto the nozzle. And then it came time to leave. Every morning we go through the same routine: say good-bye to Jungle Junction, turn the tv off, shut the doors of the armoire, say good-bye to Aiden, go to the car. Today the routine had a hiccup. A hiccup in the form of a 12 gallon shop vac. We went through all of our good-byes, and then he just stood there wearing his jacket holding the nozzle of the shop vac. He indicated he wanted to bring it with. I declined. He of course asked why and I explained it was too big and heavy to bring with us. For a split second there was an inkling of understanding and he almost put the nozzle down. But no. I am happy to report I won this stand-off. I finally got him to say to good-bye to the shop vac and come with me...without any tears. I have no clue how I did it.
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