Adventures with a 4 year old: Vegetables? Temper Tantrums? Oh joy

I thought I'd devote a whole post to what's new with Henry :) My precious boy. He's getting so, so big. Very tall, very curious, very bright. He's a good, good boy, to be sure. He's going to be starting kindergarten in a month, and Mommy is feeling decidedly weepy about this. I saw a commercial for a car manufacturer the other day that I thought was ingenious, and relates to this very issue. A man is talking to this little girl, maybe 5 years old, who is sitting in the drivers seat of a car. He's telling her to be careful, not to talk on her cell phone while driving, to be home at a decent hour, etc. She keeps saying, "Yes, Daddy." Finally, when he looks into the car a final time, we see a grown young woman of 18 years. It was her the whole time, it's just that her father still sees her as his little girl. And I feel that even now with Hank. I look at him, and I still see the newborn cradled in my arms, nursing. It just doesn't seem time yet for him to be so big.

With him growing like a weed lately, my latest mission is Eating Control. The thing is, let's be honest. What do our toddlers and preschoolers eat? I mean, REALLY eat? As in the things that they consistently like and will actually chow down on. These are NOT the things that we would prefer them to eat, mind you. I present to you, the Young Child Food Pyramind:

Goldfish Crackers
Macaroni and Cheese
Chicken Nuggets (can be dinosaur shaped)
Gummy "fruit" Snacks
Possibly Fruit RollUps for a particularly daring entrant
Chef Boyardee Spaghetti'Os
French Fries
Cookies
Ice Cream
Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich
Cheese Sticks

With the exception of the last 2, I think we'll all agree that everything else on this list has a nutritional value of ZERO. And I know that innumerable parents will sympathize with me when I admit that too often I fall into the desperate trap of allowing my child to eat these foods. As we all know, there is nothing wrong with any of them in moderation. We just don't want this to be the main part of their diet. And if our little rascals had their way, they'd eat nothing else.

I'm starting to battle back. Especially in the summer, without central a/c and not wanting to heat up the kitchen with use of the oven, we default to "ad hoc" dinners. You know. Chicken or tuna salad, random sandwiches, cheese and fruit, that sort of thing. And if Henry doesn't like what we're having, which is the majority of the time, sigh, he'll want "somefing else." I will say that he loves fresh fruit. However, the child can pack chicken nuggets away like there's no tomorrow. And I'm now determined to put a stop to it.

I have no objection to 1 or 2 chicken nuggets, *so long as* he also has a bit of what we're eating. And I've learned an important lesson. You must WITHHOLD the desired item UNTIL the healthy food has already been consumed. Otherwise, the nuggets will disappear and quickly be followed by: "I'm fuuulll."

So far, this is going better than I thought it would. There was a bit of righteous indignation when I declared that he had to eat vegetables, but he has been complying, for the most part. I try to give him a reasonable portion, so that when the situation breaks down into the inevitable negotiation phase, I can simply declare that I didn't give him that much; if he wants the nugget, he has to eat everything else on his plate.

I'll say it plainly. My son is an Anti-Vegite. Otherwise known as a founding member of the League of Children Against Vegetable Eating, CAVE. Waving a stem of broccoli in his face makes him faint with terror. He *hates* vegetables. Mysteriously, he will eat them at school. Except broccoli, the horror. But everything else he eats there. But at home? The vegetable boycott comes out in full force. CAVE members unite.

We've been working on this for about a week, and it's getting gradually more successful. Last night, I foisted grilled chicken with carrots and corn onto his plate. Although they had been "contaminated" by sharing a skillet with broccoli, he agreed to try them.

"I don't yike the chicken. I ate a carrot, can I have somefing else now?"

Under much duress, he ate all but 2 carrots and a niblet of corn. We're getting there, sigh. But the child needs more vegetables. He's good about fruit, and I've even gotten him to branch out in that regard as well, adding berries to his repertoire. Tonight we're having a ground beef taco casserole, and I'm going to steam some green beans from our garden. He WILL eat a green bean, if I have anything to say about it. He claims to "wike beef," so clearly he's a carnivore like us. I only cook with lean ground beef or turkey. We'll see how it goes.

This morning, when I rushed into his room to kiss his snuggly face, we were presented with a 4 year old activity that comes up less frequently than it used to, but when it does, is mighty in its power: The 4 Year Old Temper Tantrum. This, my friends, is a force to behold. Whereas 2 year olds have, what? *daily* temper tantrums, 4 year olds have navigated away from the frequency, but the force is virulent. NOT a pretty sight. As I snuggled Hank this morning, he declared:

"Why was my sleep so short?" *scowl*

Given that he had slept for 12 hours, I knew this wasn't a good sign.

"Hank, Honey, why don't you go pee for the morning?"

"I DON'T HAVE TO GO PEE."

Oh boy. I knew, just *knew* even based on that one statement, that this was going to be one of *those* mornings.

I coaxed him again, and he denied the need to pee about, oh, 20 more times. I left him in the bathroom, looking surly, and went to get dressed. I could hear him peeing. I called out directions for him to get dressed, but when I came out of our bedroom, Hank was standing in front of his room wearing nothing but a pajama top and a frown.

"Honey, why don't you go get dressed?"

"I DON'T WANT TO GET DRESSED."

This as well, went on for a number of denials. Then, true disaster struck.

"Is that the coffee maker? Did Daddy turn on the coffee maker without me?!"

"Well, yes, Hank, because you weren't listening and and are taking so long to get ready."

*HYSTERICAL SOBS*

Oh dear. The sobbing continued throughout the dressing process, leading to a full fledged meltdown on the stairs as he kicked and flailed. When that happens, you just have to sort of stand back and let the power be unleashed. Not much can be done there until the settling down proces shows signs of life.

And eventually, it did. Much sniffling and nose blowing commenced. There were some more tears when Tom & Jerry was denied, but he had lost steam by that point. I got him to school in better spirits, to find another invitation to a Chuck E Cheese party waiting for us in his cubby.

Never a dull moment in the life of a parent, I tell you. And crazily enough, we keep wanting to do it again and again. God really has a sense of humor :)

All Saints Day Fiasco

Well. What was it, like 3 posts ago, maybe? That I mentioned how lately, Henry has been so superlatively behaved at Mass he was next in line for a halo over his head? Right. That was then. This is now.

Yesterday was quite possibly the worst day in my 4 year career as a mother. Worse than the severe case of the baby blues I suffered for at least a full year after Henry was born, the year of infant-induced sleep deprivation, and the terrible two's, *combined*. It was just a tough, tough day, and to be honest, I'm still feeling a bit traumatized.

So, yesterday I brought Henry to 10 am Mass with me, like always. Mike wasn't with us, and usually, you could eat off of the goodness that is Henry's performance during Sunday Mass. And it started out fine. We were up in the front, like always, near the chorus. Henry was ok, although not quite as good as always. He was deliberately doing things he knows he's not allowed to do, and he was doing them with a smirky face. Not a good sign. But nothing prepared me for what was to come.

During the Consecration, Henry's behavior escalated. I warned him a few times, and when he didn't cease and desist, I told him that we had to leave. That's when the trouble began.

"NO NO NO, I *NO WANT* TO LEAVE!!!!!!! NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

So, what does a mother do? Of course, scoop up aforementioned child and swoop them out of the sanctuary as rapidly as possible. I've done this in the past, and it's worked out just fine.

Well. That was many, many Henry pounds ago. Henry, at nearly 4 years old, weighs close to 50 pounds. He's a solidly built kid, always has been. He's stocky and he's *strong*. He flung himself on the floor *during the Consecration* screaming, kicking, and flailing. I grabbed our stuff and attempted to grab him. Didn't go so well. With all of my strength, I literally could not lift him. He was fighting me with every ounce of his strength and will, and let me tell you, it was pretty effective.

By this point, to say that I was sweating bullets would be the understatement of the millenium. I was desperate, *desperate* I tell you, to get out of that church. Every time I got somewhat of a grip on Henry, our bags and coats slipped off my arm and fell to the ground. We're in the front of the church, and I can feel every eye in the house on my back as I'm struggling.

Finally, I had had it. I grabbed Henry with all the adrenaline-driven force I could muster, and abandoned our coats and bags in the pew. I dragged him out the side entrance and gave him an earful. I was physically shaking from the exertion of trying to contain him and move him against his will. But I had an even bigger problem. We couldn't go anywhere without my car keys, which were in my purse...which was still in the church. I could have cried right then and there.

Doing some crying was my son, who was still throwing a fit and now sobbing that he didn't want to leave. I would have loved to still be able to receive Communion, but if these 4 years have taught me anything, I knew that after the point we were at, there's no going back. I had to get him extracted from the situation ASAP, and I had no help whatsoever. And I have to say, maybe this is me being oversensitive, but I was feeling a bit wounded that not a single person (and there were many) in the surrounding pews came to my aid. Seeing my struggle with the out of control preschooler and our belongings, I was hoping that someone would offer to carry our things, but alas. Likely, people thought that they would embarrass me further by acknowledging the disturbance.

At this point, it was a lose/lose situation, so I waited until the organ struck up the Communion hymn, and stole back inside, Henry sobbing in tow, to grab our stuff. When he realized that we were then proceeding to the back of the church, he began full meltdown mode again. I dragged him to the back of the church where the ugly scene continued. By this time, I was so flustered, I could barely button our coats. Not that he let me put his on, no sir, so the dragging continued, this time coatless. I began to fear that someone was going to think that I was mistreating Henry; we're out in public, on a busy street, and I'm dragging my child as he sobs. I would manage to carry him for a few strides until he wrenched himself painfully out of my grasp. It was absolutely excruciating. By the time we reached the car, I was in tears.

We get to the car, and unsurprisingly, Henry refuses to get into his car seat. I try to restrain him and harness him in, and at least 5 full minutes later, I haven't gained an iota of ground. I give up. I actually drove home without him strapped into his car seat, something I've never done before, but I didn't know what else to do.

When we got home a few minutes later, I was furious. Never in my life have I been so embarrassed. I left Henry screaming in the driveway and hurried into the house. If there was any doubt in Mike's mind as the state of affairs, I'm sure he figured it out pretty quickly when I came in and announced

"I need you to come out here and get YOUR SON."

I left Mike to deal with Henry and ran upstairs to our bedroom, where I sobbed for 15 straight minutes. I then knocked back a shot of whiskey. All before 11:30 in the morning. Yes, it was *that bad*.

As I sobbed in Mike's arms shortly thereafter, I couldn't really articulate why I was taking this all so hard. Every parent has experienced their child acting out in front of others. As Claire, my bellydance instructor says of veils - they're like kids; you think you have them trained, and WHAM! They embarrass you in public.

It's like I feel that in some way I'm a failure - a failed Catholic parent? I'm not certain why I feel this way. I just felt so helpless, and having my (significant) struggle witnessed by others evokes a tremendous feeling of being exposed and shamed.

One of the things I sobbed to Mike is that I seriously don't know how I'm ever going to go back to our parish; I'm paranoid and self-conscious even when it's not warranted, so this is so much worse! Given the Nervous Nelly introvert something to *really* freak out over. My sweet husband says, soothingly:

"Oh, don't worry, Sweetie. Next week my parents are here visiting, and you can go to the Latin Mass!"

Sigh. Yes, it's true, my mother-in-law and I usually go to the Traditional Latin Mass at an old church downtown when she visits, so I won't have to go to my parish, but that doesn't really solve my problem though, does it?

The rest of the day continued in the same vein, with Henry pulling out all the stops, and me going to bed, exhausted and physically sore from the exertion. It just wasn't a good day. Certainly an emotional low point in my journey as a parent. I took it very, very hard.

But I like to think that God uses everything for good. I'm not certain what that is in this case :) but I'm thinking positive. God has a plan; I just have to do my best in the circumstances that He has asked of me, and I am Henry's mommy. Not all days are going to be easy days; perhaps I can grow as a parent based on this experience.

After Henry went to bed, Mike and I played a board game, and we had a really good time. The game had a good vs. evil thing going on, and I chose a character aligned with good, *halo*; his starting point was the chapel :) I was in there praying a lot, which helped my character build up strength. It was light hearted and fun, and helped me to feel a bit more normal after an unendingly long day....

Oh sigh. I just got off the phone with my dentist's office, and they needed to reschedule my wisdom tooth extraction (I know, right? could this week get any worse?!) for tomorrow afternoon, meaning that I have to bring Henry, because Mike will be teaching. *SOB*

God is using all of this to build grace within me...right? Somebody reassure me :)