Lucas was stomping around the house. He had twisted his face into a full-on pout. I asked Lucas what he wanted, and he walked over to a shelf and pointed up. I reached up and pointed to a book and asked if this was what he wanted. He sharply said "no" and shook his head, which caused his adorable curls and bangs to swing around his head.
"Ah, I see, you want the iPad."
Immediately, Lucas' face relaxed and became a smile. And he reached up in anticipation.
"No.No iPad."
His face tightened back up, and he let out a scream. I picked him up, and he looked at me crying, and all I could do was smile. "Dude, this isn't my first rodeo."
Compared to the meltdowns and tantrums of my second son, Ethan, Lucas' tantrums are just downright adorable. Sometimes when he wants to go up the stairs, and I need him to stay with me, I pick him up, and his little legs frantically kick in the air. If Lucas weren't my third, I would probably be a little more swayed by his screams. Too bad for him, well, actually fortunately for him, I've been there.
When he was three years old, I walked away from Ollie while he screamed. I was trying to get him to a birthday party, and he was refusing to walk. Knowing that this was a wide sidewalk with very little traffic and people around, I turned away and walked away. He screamed in full tantrum mode in the middle of the sidewalk. Finally, after I moved away for about twenty yards, he got up, realizing I wasn't going to give in, and he stopped crying and ran over to me.
A memory of Ethan losing it. Um…
Dear reader, for those of you who have been reading my blog, you probably have a sense of what I'm about to tell you. Ethan is a "spirited" child. For those of you who aren't a 21st-century parent, "Spirited" is a euphemism for a stubborn child who often doesn't like to sleep, talks back before they learned to talk, refuses to act logically, and engages in power battles consistently. However, like my special-little-guy-Ethan, most children are brilliant, loving, and creative.
The other day, I took Ethan to the grocery store and said he could pick out a piece of candy. He did, and I bought it for him, and then he asked for a second piece of candy. I said "no," and he started screaming. Finally, we got to the car. As I started driving, Ethan calmly said, "You are mad at me, so I'm going to kick your seat." Thinking that ignoring him was the best path to go, I drove home, and he sat there kicking the back of my seat for the entire ten-minute drive home.
I do miss how everything was new with Ollie. The "firsts" I have with Lucas as a parent are so much fewer than they were with Ollie. But, at the same time, it's a nice feeling looking into the face of a screaming baby and knowing that "I got this."
