Organized Chaos

Wednesday, 24 April 2013

The Standoff....




It built up slowly, but we all saw it coming.
I think he thought he could hold us off a little longer, but we gathered up every ounce of courage we had left and decided we MUST make our stand.
It was at the now or never point.
We are in a life or death situation…

Or so my toddler thinks!
We’ve taken away the teat.

I know…I know…
{gasps} Evil Mommy!

Again…or so my toddler thinks!!

Sunday night was the drawing line.
Lil Mister can be so adorable with his ‘pweece Mama’ and ‘net rama maak’ (just make it a little warmer) that it usually breaks all my strong barriers down.
Kind of like when Puss from Shrek gives the ‘eyes.’

But this….this was past all willingness to succumb.
Six…
I repeat… SIX times did Lil Mister wake up Sunday night wanting more milk.
I mean seriously people this child is 27 months old. He is over the two year mark. SIX TIMES!! {That’s nothing…wait for what comes next!}
My patience was depleted. Hubby’s temper had reached maximum capacity.
We were on the edge of a parental breakdown.
Hubby ended up sleeping in Lil Mister’s bed just so we could get some rest.
Monday morning arrived and I informed Hubby that I’d made the decision….to toss the teat. I could not; can not see any other method of solution.
We must get him to stop waking up!
I also strongly feel that no teat will eventually equal a fully potty trained child!!!

I spoke with Lil Mister’s crèche teacher and she agreed. It was time. She told me not to worry. She assured me they’d get him to nap just fine.

I swear she is magic. I had high hopes for last night.
When I arrived at school to collect Lil Mister, I was informed that he asked for the teat a little and moaned but she calmly explained there is no teat and he went to sleep….without drinking his milk!!

{I’m not so cruel…I did send milk but in a sippy cup bottle…not a teat!}

Yesterday evening was wonderful. There were no tantrums. He ate a good dinner and bathed with a lot of fun.
My blood pressure was rising before we even faced the bedtime. I knew it was not going to be so easy as the school made it. I do not have teacher magic. I have buttons….ones in which my children know all to well how to push!
After bath was over, Lil Mister walked out of the bathroom and right up to me in the kitchen where I was preparing his milk for bed…
‘Nie die tee nie!’ {not that tea} he said with as much tears as he could muster.
My heart began to break but I encouraged myself that this is for the best! He’s going to thank me one day when his teeth are NOT rotting out of his head!
‘I’m so sorry my angel but there is no other tea. You must drink this one.’
He throws himself on the floor like some kind of Jackie Chan move and screams. It is a blood curdling scream.
Bed time….fail.

We continue for the next 30 minutes with wrenching screams, but they begin to fain. I feel the end is in sight. I breathe a sigh of relief as I see him slowly drift to sleep in his fathers arms.

We steal a glance to each other and dare…oh we dare to smile.
The nappy goes on and they lie a little longer together. As he moves, I see the face twitch. He pauses. It’s like a ninja. We dare not let a drop of sweat fall. Lil Mister calms. He stills. He sighs into sleep again.
Hubby stands and leaves the room. I follow suit.
We sit relaxed on the couch. We cannot believe it went so well. Only 30 minutes.
I calmly allow myself to drift to sleep. Hubby wakes me. We climb into bed. It’s been 45 minutes since Lil Mister slept.
As I lie my head on the pillow….it begins. It’s a whimper. Then a ‘my Papa.’ Then….a scream.
There was no calming him this time as he repeatedly screamed for milk.
He tries to throw the bottle we give him every.single.time until I finally refuse to give it to him.
Hubby retreats to the couch and leaves me to my own.
We eye each other. Lil Mister knows its just me and him. He throws himself on his bed and screams.
And he screams. And he cries. And he screams.
He comes to my bed. He goes to his bed. He lays on the floor.
He screams. He cries. He screams….
For.FOUR.HOURS.
That’s right, dudes, you read me right. Four frackin’ hours.
I’m sitting, in a ball, on my bed, rocking. He lies in his bed. I hear the screams begin to break up. I hear the muffled by sobs breathes in between growing longer. I can envision his eyes beginning to droop.
And then….in the midst of all fear….
He sleeps.
I sleep.

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Shana..

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