Wednesday, October 19, 2011

This Child is Driving Me Crazy

My poor cuticles and lips tell the story - Mommy is stressed.  I've been gnawing on them pretty much constantly in between hollering things like

Micah!  Do NOT lick the patio door! 


BOYS!!!  Mommy just wants to go potty BY HERSELF for ONCE!!!


That's it!  TIME OUT!

I know I keep writing about how frustrating it has been to parent Micah lately.  I'm sorry if I sound like a broken record and you're probably really starting to get sick of hearing me complain.  But believe me when I say that my frustrations with him are literally dominating my entire day. 

He usually starts his day with a good dose of screaming and crying in the hallway for no particular reason.  This morning, this step lasted for about 12 solid minutes.

A couple nights ago, it took 3 HOURS to put him to bed at night. Over and over, he got up out of bed, flipped on the light, and caused trouble.  We'd go in, turn the light off, and put him back to bed.  I'd be lying if I said we were able to resist the urge to do some serious hollering.  Somewhere in the second hour of that torture, I tried to bring him out of the room since I didn't want his ear piercing screams to wake up his big brother on the top bunk....again.  Unfortunately, he turned and ran smack into the bedpost and split his eyebrow open. 


The light switch is now taped down with Scotch tape.

The new trick he's learned is to tell us that he needs to go poop on the potty.  Then we sit in the bathroom for the next 15 minutes while he makes goofy faces and screws around on the toilet and avoids going to bed...or poop.  We did that twice yesterday when it was supposed to be naptime before I finally had enough.  I put him back in his bed repeatedly until my lip was bleeding from all the stress-induced chewing.  Three hours later, I just accepted he wasn't going to nap and opened the door to let him out.

And found this:

Every single drawer was emptied.  This is why we had to move Isaiah into my bed for naptime.  After getting yet another Time Out for this latest stunt, I set the kids up at the kitchen table to color while I nursed Thomas. 

Not five minutes later, Isaiah comes in and tells me "Micah's coloring on the floor."

After another Time Out, I gave Micah the Magic Eraser and put him to work cleaning it up.  I then made the mistake of going to the bathroom for a couple minutes.  When I emerged, Micah had gone into the second bathroom and emptied the entire toilet paper roll.

He hits his brother.  Paints on his arms.  Colors on the table with marker.  Colors on the TV with crayons.  Says the word "No" like he's trying to make sure it isn't eliminated from the English language.

Just before bedtime last night, I was nursing Thomas and Micah suddenly chucked his plastic toy camera directly into his baby brother's head.

He went to Time Out AGAIN, came back and said he was sorry, then sat on his Daddy's lap for about 3 minutes.....and then threw his toy dinosaur at his baby brother's head. 

Micah was actually kicked out of gently asked to leave the toddler room at church.

I'm afraid to cut his hair too close to his head out of fear that I'll find a birthmark in the shape of a "666."

The Omen?  Anyone?  ('s a joke.)

Nothing we're doing is working.  Time Out after another doesn't phase him.  As I've confessed before, we've even swatted him good and hard on the backside more than just a couple times.  He's defiant.  He looks you right in the face as he ignores what you're telling him to do. 

My child is a little stinker.

And I don't know how to fix it.  I know it's probably just a phase he's going through - heck, it's not called the "Terrible Twos" for nothing, but he's really pushing the limits.

It's stressing me out more than I can even describe.  I feel like a failure.  We can't even take Micah out in public anymore.  We can't go out to eat if he's with us and grocery shopping with him has turned into a nightmare.  I give him the opportunity to walk with us like a big boy, but it only took about 5 minutes of freedom on Monday before I caught him throwing tomatoes and avocados on the floor.  I gave him one more chance to listen to me and be good, but he moved right along to tossing a bunch of bananas at me.  He was confined to the cart for the rest of the trip and I was that mom - with a screaming toddler in the cart, a baby up front, and all her groceries crammed on the bottom rack of the cart to keep the toddler from pummeling them with his constant kicks.

More than ever, I'm realizing Evan has been right all along.  Having a fourth child would be a BAD idea.  I feel like I can't even manage the three I have.

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