So…we just got back from Hastings (where I got some really cute mommy planners, woohoo!) and Christian tested me. When we got to the checkout, he grabbed one of the inevitable pieces of chocolate that they put there to entice moms and kids into impulse buys (I seriously wish that stores and doctor’s offices would stop doing that). I told Christian he couldn’t have any and tried to pry it out of his hands. Whoever said that something is as easy as taking candy from a baby must have had the strength of Chuck Norris because Christian was not letting go.
It was so embarrassing to have to sit there wrestling with my child over a piece of chocolate. I felt like THAT parent with THAT child. Seriously, I am going to have to do something about this because it is not going to work. I don’t know what it is about these last couple of weeks, but he has been testing me left and right. Anyways, at a point I realized that the candy may have gotten squished, so I went ahead and bought it. Christian must have felt as though he had won. That is until we got into the car and I ate the chocolate. Right in his face. And I didn’t share. He cried and told me I was not nice. Oh well.
That chocolate was delicious. And hopefully he learned a lesson. One that he can ruminate on as he takes a nap. Because I put him straight to bed when we got home. No snacks. No toys. No giving in to his tears. I refuse to have him think he can get away with whatever he wants.
So it begins. People always say that the two’s are terrible. I beg to differ. Two was a breeze. Three has been challenging. Seems like we are gearing up for the Ferocious Fours. Please tell me that I am not the only one who has gone through this.