Ding Ding. Round One.

Hey now now.
I’m all gimped up and sore wristy, because Max is so freakin heavy and strong now that I keep wrenching it when I pick him up. So these days, me and my muscley baby have been having SHOW DOWNS. I’ve started disciplining. Seriously. He’s 14 months old tomorrow and HE TAUNTS me while standing in his high chair and flings his food on the floor with glee. He laughs when I get pissed. He’s also started to have short tantrums which are gradually but surely getting longer about not getting his way all the time, like not being allowed to go down the very steep and dangerous stairs down to our basement laundry room.  He’s been wailing at the door now for a few days, just tormenting us with his indignant hollering.  He lies flat on his stomach and cranes his neck down so he can look under the five inch gap under the door like he’s planning his escape.  Also, he’s been enjoying throwing anything he can get his hands on down the stairs, so anytime I go up and down stairs I have to collect an armful of random stuff while trying not to break my neck and get whipped by a bottle of nail polish coming tumbling down.  Then I have to put it all away, or find a hiding spot for it so Max won’t chuck it down the stairs again.   About a week ago Grant and I were in bed talking about our kids. Oh so romantic by the way.  I said: I think it’s time to discipline Max.  He answers without hesitation, lying back and staring at the ceiling : yup. Inner deep breath and a bracing.  Time to have NERVES OF STEEL.   Time to wrap up the reactions and be all blandy ass faced and give him clear consequences of time outs on a designated spot in the hallway. One minute- yes can you believe he actually stays in the spot, and if I have to place him back there I don’t give him ANYTHING!!! No eye contact, not a facial twitch, just DEAD MOMMY. Look kid, you just killed your mommy with your food throwing. She’s a zombie now. Well for the most part the one minute time outs are working… sort of…if I’m consistent with not reacting to his taunts. As soon as he sees a dirty look shot his way though, he grins and shouts his victory at me and then if he catches me laughing, like i often do, he REALLY revels in his victory. Like scrambles onto a table and pounds his chest and pumps his fists in the air. Sometimes he has me in such conniptions I have to hide my face and curl up in a ball to hide the fact that I’m laughing my ASS off. He actuallly gets a bit concerned, like, oh dear, now mommy is sobbing. Yeah, sobbing with LAUGHTER. Then he eases up a bit. Finally a line to his empathy..i was wondering if it existed. He hugs my back and wacks me a bit to try to uncurl me. Laughter and anger. Walking the line, walking the line.  But who can stay mad at such a cute little bugger? Welcome to power struggle. Gotta love it.