Alesia's therapy appointment last night was at 6, which really worked out better for me, since I didn't have to miss so much work to get there. I hope we can make more appointments at that time.
I love my son more than life itself, but sometimes he can get on my last good nerve and just jump up and down.
It was after 7:30 when Alesia and I got home and that's sort of late to start dinner. We don't eat much quickie food at my house nowadays. So I got Michael and we went to Jersey Mike's for sandwiches. My kids happily get lots of veggies on their sandwiches so I think it's a resonably decent meal - better than McDonald's, at any rate. Mike came home and actually added sliced pickles to his sandwich. He loves sliced pickles.
While we were in Jersey Mike's and Michael was waiting to tell the counter guy what he wanted on his sandwich, he asked me if he could have some Gatorade. There was a big cooler there filled with drinks. No, I replied. I saw no reason to buy an expensive, sugary drink. He asked again. Nope, I said, you can have water, though.
Michael then started whining and pulling at my shirt like a 3 year old. "I'm THIRSTY Mom, I need Gatorade! Puhleeeeze!" he whined. I shook him off and hissed "NO!" and he finally hushed.
In my family, when I was growing up, there was a zero tolerance policy on whining. I don't think I ever even tried it. I have a clear memory of standing in my neighbor's kitchen, listening in fasinated horror as Kristi whined to her mother about something. I went home and told my mother about it. I think she warned me not to try that tactic.
So I was shocked when Michael tried it.
I think Alesia whined once, maybe, and I told her it would do no good, just make me mad, and she stopped it. Michael had to get a lecture in the car last night about it, however. It was revisited at the dinner table, where Mother could back me up. Basically what I said was this:
"If you whine, you will not get what you want and I will tell you to be quiet. If you continue to whine, you won't get what you want AND you will be punished."
I just cannot deal with whining. No parent should deal with it.
Michael has a bad habit of telling me he's hungry at inappropriate times. Last night, after he had brushed his teeth, he announced he was hungry and he needed to eat before going to bed. He had eaten a big sandwich and drunk a glass of milk only about 2 hours before, so I said no. I instantly felt guilty. I didn't want to give in, though. He has announced he was hungry when he was in the car on the way to karate or soccer, while sitting in church, etc. He knows I am kind of hyper about my kids not being hungry EVER again. He also will go with us out to eat and refuse to eat much. An hour later he announces he's hungry. Trying to get him to understand he has to eat a reasonable amount of food when the family eats, is tough.
We joke that he has two kinds of a full stomach. There is Really Full, and Full But Room for Ice Cream. It's amazing how he will change from groaning "Ohhhh, I'm so fuullllll" to saying "Yes!" when I mention we have ice cream. Really annoys me, but it also amuses me, and that's hard to hide.
I think Michael was rather spoiled at the orphanage, and he found some of the caretakers were kindhearted and he could easily manipulate them. Not so with Mom and Granny.
Mother used to say to me when I was growing up "Children are to be seen, and not heard." She wasn't kidding.
My philsophy goes more like this: I absolutely adore my kids until they get on my nerves.
