Poop!

Literally.  Smeared all over the bathroom cabinets next to the toilet.  How?  He “stuck his hand in his butt and wiped it.”  Why?  Because he “felt like it.” 

After we supervised the clean-up of poop on the bathroom cabinets, we had him clean the urine off of the floor and sent him to bed.

In case you have forgotten… Which he apparently has… He’s EIGHT!

Scared…

Not sure where to start with this one, I guess I’ll start at the beginning….

A couple of weeks ago, The Boss Man had left our shed unlocked.  I knew Fast Boy had been in there and reminded my husband quite harshly about how much trouble could come from an unlocked shed.  I was right.  The Boss Man promptly locked the shed and kept it locked from then on, but what we didn’t know was that Fast Boy and Princess had hid their previous finds.

When Fast Boy entered our house yesterday afternoon I was immediately reminded of the chainsaw oil smell from a few weeks ago.  This was a little different.  This was Tiki Torch fuel.  And it covered the lower half of my son.  He had taken the container out of its hiding spot under the shed and punctured  a hole in it to open it when he couldn’t figure out the safety lid.  He said that he bit it open with his teeth.

He had poured the fuel on the neighbor’s grass and bushes. (Different neighbor from the water slide incident.)  What I also found at the scene of the crime was a lighter that he had stolen from the neighbors porch.  I shudder thinking about what could have happened if he had actually been able to light it.

I was at my computer working just like the last time.  It wasn’t more than 30 minutes.  I thought they were just in the back yard playing.  Just like the last time.  I try to reassure myself that it isn’t my fault, that I can’t be on top of them 24/7, but when stuff like this happens I am reminded that I really need to be. 

The Wrong Kind of Water Gun

My sense of humor is just not where it ought to be on this one.  Even though a good 36 hours has past.  I’m still shaking my head in disbelief. 

Picture the scene…  A fun day with friends swimming, sliding and playing with waterguns.  The playdate turns into a dinner invitation.  The dinner turns into a spontaneous sleep-over party.  Then it happens.

Fast Boy and Surfer Dude (his 4 year old friend) disappear into the bathroom to prepare for bed.  You can feel it coming, can’t you?  Surfer Dude shrieks and comes out of the bathroom crying.  Fast Boy peed on him! 

I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.  He does get distracted easily and all it would have taken is one word for my son to turn away from what he was doing and lose his aim.  However, I knew immediately upon questioning that this was not the case.  The look on Fast Boy’s face told the truth that it was intentional.  The fact that Surfer Dude’s pajamas were wet all the way up to his chest was proof of it. 

What was he thinking?  His answer: “I don’t know.  I just felt like it.”  He never gave me a better answer. 

It wasn’t until I sat down to write this post that I came up with my own answer.  Just like he had invented his own water slide a few weeks ago, Fast Boy had found his own water gun. 

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And simply because one of the internet marketers I work with coincidently sent me this link yesterday, I just had to add it here… Make Potty Training Fun Again.  (Maybe they should add in a “water gun” section?)

Low Intensity Nightmare

“There is a lot of yelling, anger, physical pushing and controlling, even violence.  Or there may be abondonment of the family’s dream of living in warmth and love.  Parents flee into their own favorite escape modes.  They become cut off from each other, watching TV, staying away from home, overworking, or developing intimacies with other adults, where they can find solace from the low intensity nightmare that is ‘life at my house.’”  (Survival Strategies For Parenting Your ADD Child, by George T. Lynn)

Exactly.

Attention Kmart Shoppers

We got a check from Gramma in the mail to help us buy school clothes and so each kid could buy a new toy.  I really dreaded the idea of taking them both shopping and put it off as long as I could.  However, when I had to wait several hours to have my SUV serviced, it was the perfect time.  Shopping in the mall with two kids sure beats trying to entertain them in a service station waiting room.

We had the courtesy shuttle drop us off.  It was still too early for the shops to be open so we headed to the Kmart at the other end.  I picked up a few necessities that I needed and then we headed over to the toy aisles.  I can still hear the “I want”s ringing in my ears!  We took a good look around at all the junk and I decided that we should keep looking through the store to see what else there was to choose from and then come back if we didn’t find anything else. 

Princess and I started looking at the CD players and child digital cameras in the electronics department.  Fast Boy went immediately to the Game Cube display and started playing the demo video games.  I knew then and there that we were headed for trouble.  (Self-defeating prophecy?)  See, I know that Fast Boy has a big problem detaching himself from video games.  I’ve seen it too many times before.  Which is why his Game Boy had to take a vacation and go stay with someone else for awhile.  Preparing myself and the store clerk for what was about to happen, I discussed my son’s issues with video games.  His school had actually recommended finding educational, skill-building games for his Game Boy so I inquired.  I was surprised to find out that they do exist, but not so surprised to find out that they didn’t have any in stock.

I used my very best parenting skills and patience, prompted Fast Boy to finish what he was doing because it was time to move along and waited.    After a few minutes of talking to the clerk, I prompted again.  I could see his tension increase.  I tried to negotiate.  Nothing.  So I warned the clerk to block her ears, told Fast Boy that Princess and I were moving on and that he needed to come with us.  The second I took one step, out came the scream!  I’m sure everyone on the other side of the mall heard it. 

He stopped playing the game and followed Princess and I through the store toward the checkout, screaming and crying loudly all the way that I was “mean” and “not fair” and that he hates me.  Then he decided that he wasn’t getting enough of a reaction and took off.   

Usually, he is within sight when he runs away.  I periodically see him peeking from around a corner to make sure I’m still there.  Not this time.  I waited at the checkout for what seemed like forever to see a glimpse of him.  Finally, the electronics clerk returned him to me.  He was quiet for a few minutes, but started yelling and crying again while the cashier was bagging my stuff. 

So much for all the clothes shopping and going back for a toy….

Fast Boy crouched in the mall doorway in fetal position until the shuttle returned to pick us up.

When we got back home, I had him call Gramma and explain to her what happened and why we didn’t get to purchase what she sent the money for.  His story was that I didn’t let him play the game and I made him cry.  He left out the rage and running away part.  Sometimes I wonder if he even remembers doing it.