Negotiations and Love Songs

It started out like a normal Saturday with Emerson waking up far to early for any rational human being. He was his cheerful self until about 6 a.m. and then the whining started. Where the only way he can communicate is through a whine or whimper (read: really annoying). Soon after, he started hitting. Today, we started the rule that hitting is an instant time out and off to his room he went. He was sent to his room twice in a about a two hour time frame. It wasn't even 9 a.m.

With a bit of struggle we got loaded in the car and were en route to swimming class. Fortunately, his chipper personality was back and he did really good attempting to reach the rings along the bottom of the swimming pool floor. As a treat, I took him to one of his favorite places, the drive-thru car wash. Once again, for about 7 minutes, he sat mesmerized as soap and rubber wipers and water swirled around us. We then made a date to meet Tia Claudia at Zoe's for lunch.

He was a delight at Zoe's, noshing on chips and Tia's egg salad and the PB&J sandwich we ordered for him off the kiddie menu. (He even sat patiently as the remade his sandwich with grape jelly - the first had been made with strawberry - which he may be allergic to). He smiled and was charming. Almost acting as though at an audition for the most delightful child in America. Seriously, he was that cute.

Lunch was followed by Costco and then home for a nap. At this point, he had been up for 7 hours and was a bit bleary-eyed. The nap was long - a relaxing 3 hours. I was excited at the delight of spending the reminder of the day with my well rested, well behaved toddler. Unfortunately, that's not what I got.

The whining was now at a professional level and his hitting continued. Two trips back to his room. Nothing, I mean nothing would assuage his frustrations. Each time out is followed with a discussion, in hopes that he can start understanding consequence and that as much as I hate sending him there, I do still love him. We always hug after these incidents; at this age, though, there will be a few of these turbulent times.

After finally getting ready for our evening, we were both standing in the kitchen where he was continuing his rant. I looked at him and calmly said, "Emerson, I need you to stop the whining and talk to mommy in your nice big boy voice." To which the response was a resounding, "NO!" A bit exasperated, I went on to say, "Emerson, you have been such a bad boy today. I just don't know what you want."

His eyes filled with tears and he wailed from the center of the kitchen, "I not a bad boy, mommy! I not a bad boy."

Despite all the frustration, waning patience and exhaustion I felt, it melted away and my heart broke a little looking at my little sweet, sobbing mess in front of me. I knelt down and squeezed him tightly and wiped away his tears. Of course you aren't a bad boy. Of course mommy loves you. Of course.

A bit weary, we piled into the car. I put on one of my favorite cds, Paul Simon's Negotiations and Love Songs and from the back seat I heard a little voice say, "Turn it up mommy."

I guess it's one of his favorites too.