Such a sucker

Ben: Can I watch Backyardigans?

Heath: No.

Ben: But if you don't let me watch I'll be sad. If you do let me watch I'll be happy.

Me: Ben, that's emotional blackmail.

Heath: Ben, you made a reasoned argument without whining. You can watch Backyardigans.

He so is

Tuesday, since it wasn't 1,000 degrees outside, we had playgroup in someone's backyard and the kids played in the pool. There were various pool toys around, including three watering cans. Ben had one and Alyssa had two and they were both dumping water into the pool and into the grass. After a while Ben looked at Alyssa, pointed to her watering cans and said, "Those are mine." He didn't try to take them, he just stated that they were his. Well, being three years old, this PISSED ALYSSA OFF. You would've thought Ben insulted Dora the Explorer. So she started whining and yelled, "No, they're mine!" Apparently Ben enjoyed that reaction because he said it again, "Those are mine." Then he started giggling, because Alyssa exploded again. This went on several more times, Alyssa getting mad and Ben giggling at her reaction.

Upon hearing this story Heath said, "Ben, you are so my son."

Little brat

Ben's starting to understand the concept of stalling for time. Usually he goes down for a nap easily, but last Saturday for whatever reason he didn't want to sleep. So after I left the room he almost immediately started yelling for me. "Mommy, Mommy, go see Ben!"

I went back in and told him to lay down, but he countered with, "I have to throw up." Now, I knew he was lying. He hadn't been acting sick and still wasn't. But, on the off chance I was wrong I took him into the bathroom. I opened the toilet lid, he leaned over and blew a raspberry into it. Then he grinned at me.

It's a good thing the instinct to keep your kids unharmed is so strong.

Grab bag

We've been fighting colds for about a week and a half now in the Borders household. I think Ben has it worst of all. Heath and I don't feel too well upon waking, but we're making it through the days okay. Ben, however, has been a snot faucet and coughing at night wakes him up. The good news is that he's finally getting the idea about blowing his nose! No more battles over the aspirator. Snot bubbles are copious, but maybe we won't end up in Ear Infection Land quite so often. One can dream.

The other interesting thing that's been happening relates to an earlier post about manipulation. Though Ben's speech is becoming increasingly more understandable and complex, there are still those moments when we just don't get it. So it's become a habit that even when we do understand what he's saying, we repeat it, to make sure we really did understand. Ben uses this to his advantage. So if he says, "Have snack?" and I say, "You want to have a snack?" he says, "Ok," and his inflection is such that it seems like it was my idea all along and he's just agreeing to it. "Oh a snack, Mother? I hadn't even thought of that, but now that you bring it up - Ok." It's both hilarious and worrying.

Another cool thing is that he's starting to memorize songs and sing them. That just started a few weeks ago. We sing the "Three Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" song and he chimes in at the end with, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed!" He and Heath sing songs from Dinosaur Train. And yesterday morning I could tell he was singing a song, but I couldn't tell what it was. Finally that afternoon I realized it was "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," which I've been singing to him before naps and bed since he was born. Every day he's more and more like a kid and it's so fun to watch.

Ben the Manipulator - Part 2

Lately Ben is starting to grasp the concept of emotional manipulation. Whenever I reprimand him he immediately tries to cute it up so I won't be mad. His main weapon: saying in the sweetest voice, "Hi, Mommy." So, we have a lot of conversations like this:

"Ben, don't pull Minnie's tail."
"Hi, Mommy."

"Ben, don't throw toys."
"Hi, Mommy."

The thing is, he keeps saying it until I respond, "Hi, Ben." To him that signals the diffusing of the situation. So if I'm actually mad and refuse to answer, what I get is:

"Hi, Mommy.... Hi, Mommy.... Hi, Mommy. Hi, Mommy. Hi, Mommy. HI, MOMMY!"

Eventually, if I don't answer he gets mad and throws a fit. Now, the following analogy is bound to offend someone, but I think it's somewhat fitting. The relationship of a toddler and parent is not unlike the relationship of an abuser and abused spouse. The abused spouse (i.e. the parent) doesn't want to do anything to set off the abuser (i.e. the toddler), because the abused spouse knows that will just mean more trouble for her. So I usually end up giving in and replying, "Hi, Ben," because it's such a stupid thing to have a tantrum over.

Ben the Manipulator

Scene: It's bedtime. Ben has his binky, we'd read numerous stories and he was clutching his baby Elmo doll to his chest, so I put him into his crib.

Normally he'd just lie down and go to sleep. He's pretty good about going to bed, at least initially. However, instead he said, "Poop! Poop! I poop!" I sniffed and didn't smell anything, but he was pretty insistent. So up on the changing table he went where I discovered that I was right. No poop. He was still saying "poop," though, so I thought maybe he meant he had to poop. He's getting better about recognizing that feeling. I read him another book, thinking maybe we could catch the poop before bed. I didn't want him to sleep in it all night, or worse, wake me up in the middle of the night to change him.

But the poop never appeared, so after his extra book I put him back in his crib. He started saying "poop" again, but I told him it was time to sleep and left the room. He cried for a moment, but then fell asleep.

In the morning I was a little afraid his butt would be screaming red after sleeping in poop all night. Quite the contrary. He was totally clean and it dawned on me. That was Ben's first attempt to manipulate his way out of bedtime.