Morning Fight

Mornings lately have had their fare share of challenges. It's a mixed bag what with Mack grinning and spitting up and drooling and screeching like a wild animal, and Nate pushing back against our quest for authority for reasons mostly known to Nate. There are funny moments too -- like this morning when Nate was entertaining Mack with assurances that super heroes were coming to save Mack from his crib- jail and opening the blinds again and again to let them in. The boys waking up together in their room followed by squeals of delight, has been a revelation.

But this morning, when it came time to finally put Nate's coat on, he twisted around violently, mad with resistance. I counted to 3. He ignored it. I gave him a time out in his bed. "I've had it!" I barked. He cried. "Come here and put on your coat," I said in his dark room after a minute or so. He didn't. I counted to 3. Nate didn't budge. I took away privileges like iPad and TV. He still didn't move from his bed. Finally I picked him up and dumped him in his orange stroller while he cried. I angrily wheeled him to the elevator. "Bye," I heard Shana say as I headed down the hall. "Bye," I said.

Nate got quiet on the stroll to school. We chatted on Whyth and North 5th Street and I told him how important it was to listen to me and Mommy. He nodded his head in agreement when I asked him if he understood. He then mumbled about wanting a snack (was he hungry the whole time, was that what the tantrum was about??) and so we went to get a bagel. "I'm sorry we got into a fight," I said after, crossing Bedford Avenue. "But I really need you to listen to me." I bent down to hug him in his stroller and he hugged me back.

"Next time I will be good," Nate said in the sweetest voice imaginable. I felt my heart cave in. I started to cry, there on North 5th Street just east of Bedford Avenue. I hugged him again so he wouldn't see.