Let the Battles Begin

My son has declared war against me. He has even, believe it or not, convinced the dogs to side with him. I swear he's even got a flak jacket hidden under his crib.

The conflict? I WANT. I WANT to eat YOUR dinner, not mine. I WANT to dial random numbers on the phone. I WANT to chase the dogs around with my plastic mower. I WANT to kick my feet and fling poop whenever you're trying to change my dirty diaper. I WANT. I WANT. I WANT.

And in Alex' world, the ONLY thing that matters is what HE wants. I can't really blame the kid, I wish that worked in my world as well, but unfortunately, it just doesn't. Just this afternoon he decided that he WANTED to play on the computer, even though it was off, and it has been taught from day one that it is off limits.

A battle full of blood-curdling screams ensued. Alex would pound on the keyboard. I would say NO!, and move Alex over to his toys. Alex would give me the crumple face, followed by the screech of disbelief. Then a toy would take his fancy and the bloodshed would stop as quickly as it began. Until two or three seconds later when he turned to see where I was, and then commenced to hauling hieny over to the computer again and once again pounding the keys like Beethoven. Again, I say NO!, this time followed with a quick pop on the hand (which inevitably upsets me more than it even phases him), and again we move over to HIS toys. And so on and so forth. After repeating ourselves about five or six times, during which the dogs simply looked at me as if I was a massively horrendous dictator, Alex finally found something else that entertained him and the battle was won (by me, for the moment).

I have won this battle, but never the war.