Carter is my super tender-hearted child. I mean.. it's pretty bad. One cross look his way can send him into a sobbing fit. A genuine, you just stuck a spear in my heart and twisted it, sobbing fit.
Now, apparently he has split personalities. Coupled with Dr. Jeckle is Mr. Hyde. When Mr. Hyde comes - look out!
I believe that he is now the master of all feelings. He knows how to feel them all with a crazy intensity, and he is learning how to dish those feelings out to others.
He can pick a fight better than any other boy I know. He can make his sister red from anger in .5 seconds if he's so inclined. He can me want to roll him in duct tape and glue him to the couch from annoyance. He's also the first one to get everyone in the house laughing hysterically, and he's very well known for his spontaneous hugs, kisses, and "You're the best 'fill in the blank'" moments.
Over the past two days, he's fine-tuning his "how can I break mommy's heart the best" skills. Oh yes. He is.
Yesterday, after a "I'm not eating that - fix me a PB&J" moment, Carter ended up laying in his bed instead of sitting at the table for supper with the rest of the family. Oh the tears. Oh the drama. "But I HATE BLT sandwiches!!!" (no he doesn't..) The remainder of the night just got worse and worse as he was not only tired, but tired and hungry due to his refusal to eat. (and yes, I am of the mind set that kids will eat when they're hungry... and they'll eat what I feed them or eventually starve to death. Their choice.)
After he finally managed to brush his teeth and as slowly as possible climb onto his bed on the top bunk, I came to tuck him in. I decided to just drop the whole recap of the night to scold him one good last time, and just hug and kiss him and say his prayers, and beg God for him to wake up on the right side of the bed the next morning. All went well, until I was leaving.
Carter - "Mommy.. you know what I really hate?"
Me - "What?" (assuming he'd say BLT's... again..)
Carter - "You."
Me - "Me?" in my head
Me - "That's fine." to Carter
I just walked out.. not sure if I was thoroughly Peeved at his snot-head comment, or if I was heartbroken over those words. "He doesn't hate you.. he's just mad... he'll get over it."
A few minutes later, a cry from Carter's room:
Carter - "Moommmeee! Come here, please!"
I walked in, hoping he was going to cry and apologize and do a typical "I don't know why I said that" apology.
Me - "What do you need?"
Carter - "Can you fix my sheet? It's all wrapped up at my feet."
I fix the sheet and kiss him before I go to walk out.
Carter - "... but I still don't like you."
didn't say a word...
Today was more of the same. We homeschool during the summer months, and it was writing time for him. I made him a sheet of fill in the blank sentences, which he usually enjoys, and he immediately got upset.
Carter - "I hate this!!! I'm not doing it!"
Me - refraining from smacking him "I'm sorry you hate it.. just do it quickly and you can go play blocks."
Oh the crying, the screaming, the DRAMA. Is he a 6 year old boy or a 14 year old girl?! He finally consented and did the work.
One of the sentences was "I really don't like ___________" He of course filled the blank with "mom." And, he made sure to show it to me immediately. Nice.
This is something that I dealt with when Madison was much younger. Ages 3-4. Carter pulled the "I hate you" card about a year ago, I just told him that was fine that he hated me, and he never said it again. Now, here we sit on day two of him being a total butt-head to me and I'm not sure how to handle it. Ignore it? Discipline for being disrespectful? Combo? I really, honestly, am so taken aback by this from HIM that I just don't know what to do.
Thankfully our day since this incident has gone beautifully. He actually went back and changed the "mom" in the sentence to "going on walks." (he hates going on walks... unless we're in the woods.) So maybe that's a step in the right direction?
Isn't it crazy how a few mean words from my little 6 year old totally makes me question my parenting methods?
"Am I mean to him?"
"Does he really not like me?"
"Is he going to grow up a psychopath and have women issues because of me?!!"
How do they implant these little seeds into our brains that grow into mega-thought-consuming-thorny-bushes?
Am I the only mom in the world that has a child that says he doesn't like her? Even if he turns right around and says I'm the best mom in the "UNIVERSE!"... it still kind of hurts to hear those words he spouts off in his fits of frustration. Maybe it means I'm doing something wrong... maybe it means I'm doing something right? Kids can't like their parents all of the time... right? Right?