Poor Shef’s life is in flux – he’s moving classrooms at school, I’m in charge of him in the mornings now, and I’ve started mixing up Sesame Street with some offerings on Playhouse Disney.
Sadly, the way he manifests the stress he must be feeling over these changes is to hit. Yesterday he hit me in the face after music class. He hit me again as I was putting him in the car to go to school, and then again when I picked him up. Later, he hit me because he didn’t want to leave a store we visited, because he didn’t want to stop playing baseball (“I like to play baseball all the time,” he explained), and finally because he was disappointed his friends weren’t home when we happened to stop by.
The silver lining of this problem is that he doesn’t hit anyone else. Plus, he only said the f-word twice all day. Also, he alternates his psychotic behavior with incredibly sweet and loving behavior.
For example, just minutes before the final beating of the day, he was hugging my head and rubbing my check soothingly while riding on my shoulders and lamenting his lack of sibling:
“I want a baby in my house,” he said mournfully. Caroline, a pal at music, has a baby sister, you see. “I want to hold the baby all the time.”
3 comments:
Oh dear some serious pressure for a sibling there. Ouch on being the punchbag though. I am glad your elimination of the F word plan seems to be working
Except that if there was a baby in the house all the time, then he/she'd be getting hit instead of you, and that's not really much better.
I swear that being two years old must mean having two separate personalities, like Jekyll and Hyde. The are so adorable and then, blam! They sock you in the face.
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