Half an Hour Home

Max has been home for half an hour now. It's not been a smooth half an hour. He ran up to me asking if he could go to the park. By himself? I think not. I got it out of him that he wanted to go because Brian, a boy who lives in the neighborhood, was going to be there. That would be fine, but Brian is at his baby sitters, not at the park. This I know as I saw him walk in there.

I'd be happy to still go to the park with or without Brian being there, but Davan and I had just gotten home from swimming and needed to unpack. Plus, Max always has a snack when he first gets home, without which, he gets grumpy.

Due to the delay, though, he threw a passive agressive fit by strewing the things he brought home out in the main through-fair of the house, plus sprawling out into it himself while making a half an effort to sort of take off his shoes. We have had to put a rule in place that he must stay totally in the entry way while taking off his shoes because otherwise he sprawls across the main through-fair every time. I reminded him of the rule and pointed out that acting that way wasn't going to help his cause in regards to the park. He shaped up a little.

He gave me the daily note from his teacher, which said it was an "OK Day." Usually, it's a good day, so I asked if he'd had a hard time. He denied it, but when I asked if he'd gone up to group as soon as he was called, sat right down and didn't move, he started to be evasive. I let it go. It was good enough for his teacher, so there it is.

I started my after school inspection of his person and his backpack. He had a king size Kit Kat wrapper. He said he'd gotten it from Brian. Brian gave it to you? A non-committal answer. I told him to get his shoes on so we could go talk to Brain. Brian's baby sitter is just across the street.

What the story ended up being was that Brian had the Kit Kat at lunch. Max coveted said Kit Kat. Brian ate the whole thing, but I think Max must have hoped that he hadn't because after school, while gathering up stuff to come home, Max got into Brian's lunch box and stole the wrapper. This from a boy who can't remember to bring home his plastic spoon from his apple sauce. Gee does anyone else thing he could probably remember that spoon?

I'd stepped just into the entry way of the baby sitter's house to talk to Brain while Max chose to stay just outside. When I came back out, he was hiding behind a tree. I explained that was unsafe. It's not safe to hide in public and he must come to me when I call in public. If he doesn't follow the rules, it's not safe to take him out, so we wouldn't be able to go to the park.

He, of course, was mad, and walked off fast in front of me. When we got in the yard, we finished the Kit Kat story and he tried to shred some leaves on the tree, pulling back toward the tree when I gently took his hands and pulled him away.

When we got back inside, he went to have the snack I'd left out for him while I finished checking his things. I came out to find him rocking on the two back legs of the high stool at the counter - a no-no.

I calmly removed the stool while he passive aggressively kept sitting on it until I pulled him off. Then I pulled him into a hug, him resisting and asking, "What are you doing?"

I held him for a while, until he pulled away. Then I asked him if he knew why he was having a hard day. He didn't. I said that it seemed to me that he had two choices at this point - he could stay mad that I'd found and dealt with the candy wrapper and subsequent acting out (in terms meant for him), thereby probably continuing to have a bad day or he could move on and have a good rest of the day. "Okay, Mom," he replied brightly, not looking me in the eye at all.

He moved on to annoying Davan in such a very obvious way that he got sent to his room until he could be not annoying, fingering all the water melon slices I'd put out while he tried to pick up a certain one (which he could suddenly pick up just fine when I went toward him - only to pick that slice up for him, but I guess he didn't know that) and making a little speech under his breath about "trying not to step on Davan's toes when he went outside to shoot hoops" after she'd already gone out. The last one got him restricted to the back yard when he went outside - away from Davan.

Things seem to be settling down now. The kids are out back together, playing. I love it when that happens. I've typed in this whole entry. It's only a little over an hour until I take Max to flag football, then turn around and let Anthony parent him for the short remainder of the evening before he goes to bed.