Am I going crazy...again?

A while back I thought my son was possibly crazy. His words didn’t make sense. He’d dance around the room ALL THE TIME like Mr. Noodle on his fifth Red Bull. And his clothes were always on backwards.

“Mommy, I like it like that.”

Ok, fine.

I did some research online and eventually turned to my mother (a former pre-school teacher) and said, “should I worry about this?” She quickly said the same thing as everything I read: “he’s so 4.” So apparently you have one year in life when it’s acceptable to straddle the line of sanity without judgment. Who knew?.

Well, luckily as the winter dredged on and the months passed, Max eventually began to learn that some moments are just not appropriate for Mr. Noodle on roids to come out. Phew. But lately I’ve realized things are changing again. This time, I thought I was the one going crazy. 

I called my mother. She loves me and my son (possibly my son more) so I knew she’d tell me which one of us was truly the one in need of meds. Her response was, again, “welcome to 5.” I said, “He’s not 5 for 3 months.” She just laughed. 

So here’s what I’m left with: A completely sane child who has a very defined sense of right and wrong. Only now instead of seeing IF something is wrong to do, he’s doing what he knows is wrong to see what I will do when he does it. Huh? When did he ever doubt that I, the most consistent mother in all of time, would do anything other than take everything away from him that he loves if he dumps a bucket of sand over another child’s head? And when he shakes his sister’s head until she falls over and then beats on her, what makes him think I will do anything other than become a Neanderthal and strip him of his never-actually-earned-to-begin-with privileges?

Well, as it turns out, I’m not the consistent mother I pride myself in being. I do my best like everyone else, but those moments of weakness are hardcoded in my child’s brain way more permanently than my moments of strength.

So yesterday I was really perplexed all day. How can I get him to stop doing all the things I know he knows not to do? My husband and I have taken all of his electronic toys away. His beloved guitar. The TV. Books before bed. You name it. If he liked it, I yanked it. Nothing was working. It just felt hopeless.

Until Dan-o-nino happened. It was like magic.

Sitting in front of the TV watching a yogurt commercial, I had more pride in my profession than ever. Being in advertising doesn’t usually get props. But today, my industry seemed genius! Max got more excited than if someone gave me a random $1 million. “Mommy, can we get those and make those frozen yogurt things?” He was as desperate in that moment as I was. It was perfect. My response was, “We’ll see.” (It felt so good to torture him just a little.) The next morning I stopped at Dominick’s after my morning workout and smiled as I put the yogurt in my cart.

As I walked in the door with groceries Max grabbed the yogurt and started screaming, “Mommy, you got my yogurt!” I quickly snatched it back and said, “I did. And if you go 5 days without losing a single privilege, we can make those frozen yogurt things.” His smile began to turn into a familiar “negotiation face.” He looked at me and said, “How about if I just lose 2 privileges…?”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Um, no go.

“Max,” I said, “You have to go 5 full days. And if you don’t, I’m eating them all.” He was horrified and immediately sighed. Shoulders down. Yogurt in hand. He looked at me and said, “Ok, I’m gonna do it.”

So far…he’s made it two days.

Can’t wait to find out what happens when he turns 6.