It was one of those mornings.
Michael was tired. He’d had a busy and exciting weekend at Grandma’s, had a long journey home yesterday with no nap, and he was in no mood to get back into the routine.
He didn’t want to go to school, and daddy was late as it was.
“C’mon, Michael. We have to hurry,” I said, gathering my stuff turning off lights.
“I want to eat something,” he said, quietly, as he sat down at the table.
“I offered you breakfast half an hour ago. It’s too late to sit down and eat. Let me get you some cereal and a banana and you can take it in the car.” I quickly poured some Froot Loops into a baggie, poured some juice into a sippy cup, snapped a banana off the bunch and grabbed Michael’s hand.
“I want my blue blankie!” he said.
“Then go get it!” I barked. He scrambled up the stairs, fumbled around in his room and came down the stairs only partway, then sat down where he was.
“I don’t wanna go!” He cried, tired tears rolling down his flushed cheeks.
“Michael, look. Mommy already went to work. Daddy has to go. You can’t be home alone. You always have fun at school. Now, come on. It’s time to go.”
I led him out to the car, buckled him in and handed him his breakfast.
“I don’t want the banana,” he told me, taking the cereal and juice and holding them in his lap, on top of his blankie.
“You don’t want this?”
“No,” he confirmed.
“Okay, I’ll keep it,” I said, and tossed it in the front seat.
Off we went. I could hear Michael’s soft sniffling in the back seat. He was clearly not pleased at the thought of being shuffled off to school on the heels of his exhausting adventure the week before.
Several minutes passed, the sounds of sniffling giving way to the sounds of munching on cereal.
I decided to eat the banana myself, since he didn’t want it.
Several more minutes passed.
“I want the banana now,” he said, softly.
“Sorry, kiddo. I already ate it.”
Silence.
Then, a low wailing began to rise from the back seat.
“Please!” he cried.
“Michael, you said no. You said you didn’t want it.”
“I’m saying yes now!” he bawled.
“I’m really sorry, Michael. It’s gone. See?” I held up the empty banana peel and wiggled it around for his inspection. This only increased the severity of his cry.
“But I wanted it!”
He wept bitter tears over the loss of the banana.
I tried to explain that this is an important life lesson: Sometimes, an opportunity presents itself only for a short time and is gone.
I’m not sure if he got the message this time, but I’m sure he will eventually.
Carpe Diem.
He has a better chance of understanding your lessons than Braden does mine. That doesn't stop me though.
A beautiful example of natural consequences!!
Dead fish (carpe diem) means nothing when you want a banana!
Did Michael relate all of his adventures to you and his mom?
I spent a lot of time imagining his getting lost in the forest,if there was one.
Did Grandma K, survive? is she resting comfortably?
Has she taken up drinking?
Inquiring minds want to know.
The other grandma
We totally enjoyed Michael's visit. Some of the cute things he did:
He refused his own Dole Whip because if he didn't eat it right away it would melt. He finds young kids who have Dole Whips, chats them up and bums a bite.
At the Oregon Trail Exposition Michael was most interested in looking at the animal butts. Oxen, sheep, bison…Michael was standing or sitting under the butt.
Feeding the chipmunks seeds on top of Mt. Howard was so much fun but catching grasshoppers was his favorite.
What a morning. I hope Michael feels better now. You, too. Life lessons in the morning are especially rough, even if you are a morning person.
Carpe Diem, indeed.
I am seeing much of this same thing with Smallest Weasel since she started Kindergarten. She is soo tired all the time she doesn't even know what she wants or doesn't want. The whining and the tears without legitimate grounds are making me nuts. I keep trying to get her bed earlier and that doesn't help either. In a few weeks time I hope she gets adjusted.
I love the comments from the two Grandmas!
I don't miss those "I want…no I don't want it…" days one bit. Ugh.
I hope Michael is back into the swing!
Poor Michael.
Next time he'll probably remember and say, "I don't want it, but you can't eat it," or something like that. It's a good lesson for him.
I try to explain things to Ethan, "No, we cannot play with electrical cords; they are dangerous. They can shock you." I say this as I relocate him only to watch him crawl right back in that direction, stop, turned toward me and smile that expectant smile. I try REALLY hard, not to laugh!
@Otter — better to start early anyway.
@Liz — yep. I'm sure he'll get plenty more.
@Mom — Grandma K is doing fine, considering. Since two sisters and a cousin were there, she had some backup. There wouldn't be any Michael visits without backup.
@Grandma K — I'm glad you enjoyed his visit! I had been told about the Dole Whip story, and reminded him of that when he cried about the banana. He didn't want his Dole Whip when we were in Disneyland either, which in my mind is close to treason.
@Surprised — he got over it quickly enough. By the end of the day he was happy as could be. He grabbed a banana when we got home and ate the whole thing.
@WeaselMomma — I hear you. It is crazy-making, isn't it? Just try to remind yourself it's just a phase… just a phase… just a phase. Then have another margarita.
@Melisa — he's getting there. I'm sure by the end of the week he'll be just peachy.
@Baby News — I'm sure you're right on this. He remembers stuff, even when he doesn't learn the lesson. Good luck with your little one. As I told Otter Thomas up there, start early and stay consistent.
The more fun the break, the rougher the return. My preschooler had two weeks of camping with his grandparents. His first day back at preschool, total meltdown. Same thing this past Monday after his older brother had been here for the weekend.
@Dave — Good point. So next time, if I see him coming at me foaming at the mouth and holding a weapon, I'll know he had a really good vacation.
You aren't talking about Michael, you're talking about MY son! He does this ALL the time. Oh, and he's SEVEN! I hope you train your boy better than I've trained mine.
Lots of little monkey tears while adjusting back at home. He had tooooooo much fun at Grandma K's.
I can't wait (in theory, not reality) until I'm a grandparent. It's like a license to spoil the kids.
Mom and dad just can't compete with the grandparents level of awesomeness.
Plus, when you're a grandparent, about the time the kids get cranky, you can send them home and have the parents deal with things like eating the banana.
@Momo — You have nothing to feel bad about. Michael's a real hard learner, and I'm confident he'll be well past seven before he ever fully grasps this.
@Wife — yeah, I'm sure that had a lot to do with it. He's mellowed out quite a bit since then.
@Scott — it's also going to be a license to laugh maniacally when their kids do just what they did, and they complain. My wife and I were just talking about that this morning.