It’s no secret that Blake and I are at war. He’s going through some toddler phase, that everyone chuckles at, but is not so funny in real life. I hear rumors that at this age, his hormones surge as high as they will in teenage-hood. I believe it. I thought I would let you in on today’s battle.
Usually something triggers Blake’s Defiant Switch. I never know what the trigger might be, but the first signs that the switch has been flipped are very subtle. We’ll be driving along, not even speaking, and he’ll say, “No, I not”. This is very commonly the opening line in a battle between B and Mama. It accelerates from there, usually culminating to Blake going to bed. Time of day, be damned. Bed is the best option for all of us at those moments. I mean, seriously. Despite his hormone levels, defiant behavior is unacceptable. Besides, falling asleep causes some sort of “reboot” and my sweet, funny, baby boy wakes up in the same place Defiant B went to sleep. It’s a beautiful thing.
Anyways, today was one of those days. We pulled up in the driveway and I unbuckled his seat and said, “Hop out Blake!” Blake: “No, I not get out.” Me: “Fine, Blake, Mommy’s going inside.” I walk up the sidewalk and he begins screaming: “I get out! I come in!” Ok, good, that worked. Mmmm, not so much. As soon as I turn to walk back to him he says, “No, I not.” Ohhhh. Breathing exercise *3-2-1, 1-2-3. What the heck is bothering me?* Me: “Ok B, that was your chance, come in when you’re ready.” This, of course, for some reason, infuriates him, but he still refuses to leave the car. We have stairs right in our entryway. If you sit on them you can see outside, but someone in the driveway can’t really see in. I could’ve watched a couple of sitcoms in the time I sat and watch my child scream. But you bet your britches he was coming in on his own. Whoever caved first was obviously the loser in the battle of the wills, and it’s too early for me to be losing. The neighbors were all getting home from work about now, did I mention that? I tried several times to assure them that no one was being harmed, but they were dubious. … so was I. Finally, my worn out, exhausted baby comes to the front door asking for an apple and Veggie Tales. He probably couldn’t remember what we were fighting about. I wish I couldn’t. But he assured me right before bed that he still loved me, and I him. It was a beautiful moment. Until I walked out of his dark room, with him tucked away in his comfy bed and heard him say to himself, “No, I not.”