Raising Cain (Or Buddy)

I've had a series of days lately where I've been on the verge of pulling my hair out by the end of the day. And when I say verge...

I can't quite articulate why Buddy drives me absolutely batty. He just does. He is such a wonderful person and most of the time he's just doing "normal" 4-year old behavior, but his "behavior" doesn't stop. His mouth runs ALL day long. You know, some kids will just be quiet or stop moving for a split second. He doesn't. I feel guilty about being soooooooo impatient, but honestly, I just don't have it in me sometimes. (Deep breath.) Since I can't quite explain how I'm feeling, let me just give you a snapshot of my week. It may not seem like much, but keep in mind these are a only *few* things that have kept me on my toes this week. And this week wasn't even as bad as LAST week.

• Buddy is having ear problems again. He has gone deaf again thanks to another double-ear infection. I'll save the details for another post, but it's a situation I've been agonizing over all week. Stay tuned for a discussion on medications.
• Last Sunday we were sitting waiting for sacrament meeting to begin and I realized I hadn't picked up a program at the door. I sent Buddy to the door to get one "from the man in the suit." Buddy loves a responsibility, so he happily ran to the door and snatched a program right out of the hand of the wrong man -- and ran quickly back to our pew. I cracked up, the family behind us cracked up, and the man stood there with a shocked look on his face but then carried on with the conversation he was having. It was obvious he was totally confused about why a punk kid would grab a program from his hand and run away. Too bad he didn't realize his mistake was that he wore a suit to church and had a program in his hand. No kidding, a lady from the ward called me last night to tell me that she witnessed that incident and laughed about it all week. I told her that if she thinks Buddy is so funny, maybe she can try parenting him.
• I've been fighting with Buddy for a few weeks now over him cleaning up his own room. He has been cleaning his own room since he was 2 years old. He knows where every toy goes and used to be so good about cleaning up when I ask him to. Not anymore. It'll take him literally hours to get it done now. And those hours include him doing a lot of fooling around, back-talking, disrespecting, slamming doors, and yelling. And me yelling, putting him in time out, begging, pleading, bribing, rewarding, threatening, guilting, yelling, yelling, yelling, and spanking. Imagine my joy when Elder Ballard asked the children of the church to listen to their parents and clean up their own rooms. (I'm positive I'm not the only mom that experience joy over that talk!) Buddy heard that talk and reacted well to it at first. Well, things took a turn for the worse the other day. He made a big mess in his room and I made him stay in there until it was clean. After a full eight hours in his playroom "cleaning," miraculously no toys had been put away. So we started from square one the next day. I was so annoyed and tried every motivation tactic I could think of. Eventually I got the bright idea to remind him of Elder Ballard's talk. I had previously told him how disappointed Jesus was, how disappointed I was... But then I told him Elder Ballard was so disappointed. I kid you not, within thirty minutes the room was totally spotless. He had spent about 20 hours fooling around in his room -- no exaggeration -- and that's what it took. I would publicly like to thank Elder Ballard for that wonderful talk.
• Buddy is obsessed with sea life, as I've mentioned before. Last night he prayed that he could "go in a cage in the ocean to see sharks" and that he could "see shark bites." Strange, but not too strange, considering how much he loves sharks and how carefully he studies the gruesome pictures of shark attacks in one of his shark books. Well, imagine my concern this morning when woke up and told me that he was in a shark attack last night. He carried on about the details, and then showed me the aftermath. Actual bite marks all over his hand and arm -- in the curious shape of his own mouth.