Cranky Pants

Grayson started wearing a new pair of trousers this month - a pair of bright red, shiny, cranky pants. He's always been a generally cheerful kid, but when he's not, he lets you know immediately. He let us know a lot more often this past week. Poor little guy's teeth just won't stop a coming! He's gotten all four molars and two incisors just in the past month alone! Dude. I know. It really sucks.

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Not only is he growing chompers as we speak but he's also growing, well, into a little boy who's getting closer and closer to TWO! The problem is that he knows exactly what he wants, but oftentimes what he wants is something he can't have - and he's no longer easily distracted by a spatula. Each day is full of ovens he can't touch and knives he can't grab and chairs he can't climb onto and jump off of and glassware he can't throw and mamas he can't bite. It's a cruel, cruel world for a little man hell-bent on exploration/destruction.

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Handling a willful 16 month old screaming to be let down in the middle of Target so he can pull all the toxic cleaners off of the shelf is one of the many parenting situations that makes me feel like an amateur - like a tired, slightly desperate high school sprinter falling to the ground while trying to keep up with world record holders. It makes me wonder why I'm so foolish to attempt errand-running with son in tow. The other parents - especially the parents with a couple of kids - seem to be in a calm, controlled, expert zen master state. Their children are not screaming or writhing or eating the tiny plastic cups that you sample grapes out of, or trying to throw themselves headfirst out of the grocery cart. Maybe they've got it together more than I do and are sharing tricks in some secret backroom, or maybe they're just having a better day than me and Grayson, or maybe they've figured out a sophisticated system of bribery.


I tried that a couple of months ago. Bribery. With M&M's. Big Fat Mistake! Now the kid thinks he has to have one (an M&M) before doing ANYTHING. "You want me to brush my teeth? I'm gonna need an M&M. You want me to eat peas?? M&M please. Stop wiggling while you change my diaper??? You guessed it lady.....I need an M&M stat!"

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Patience is a prized, elusive virtue in our house. Grayson wants what he wants when he wants it. He's also not advanced enough to understand when we reason with him - or to be formally disciplined - and he's too smart to be distracted by my lame techniques, like tossing Cheddar Bunnies at him every chance I get or handing over junk mail. Patience is what I most want to cultivate in my adorable, passionate, dramatic, very very very loud little boy. Just a few minutes so I can finish eating a meal. Just thirty seconds so I can finish putting on his diaper. Just a few relaxed moments when Grayson maybe realizes that not getting to grab hold of a butcher knife is not, in fact, the worst thing in the world, nor the end of it.

(That's it Mom, I'm calling Nana)
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Maybe I'm delusional, thinking that I can encourage patience in someone under the age of ten. But if I'm not, and if you have any ideas on how to delay or soothe the savage baby beast, I'd love to hear them...