Posted in Mom, personal
March 9, 2011

Boys are weird.

I remember when my mom used to pick me up from school, I couldn’t wait to tell her what I did. This seemed to be the case with every girl I knew and know, too. Even though he’s only in preschool, sometimes it’s like pulling teeth with the Oldest Kidlet.

Case in point, yesterday. This week, the preschool was offering Pony Pictures. As in, a photographer was coming in to take a picture of the kids on a pony, and they’d get a ride. But there were two days, and I’d forgotten to ask what day the big kids were going to ride. So I put him in one of his favorite t-shirts and figured I’d hear about it when I picked him up.

He handed me his school work, he whined about wanting to get a burger and fries (we do get one once a week), and even complained about how slow his brother was walking. We got to the stairway down from where the preschool is on the school (by now it was about 5 minutes after I’d signed him out of his class), when he looked at a patch of grass and said, “Mommy, I got to ride a horse on the grass and they took my picture. I dressed like a cowboy, and it was bumpy!”

I looked at him, sighed, and informed him that he was guilty of burying the lead. One of the other moms heard me and laughed. She told me her son was the same way, and liked that that’s how I put it. Then her son, who is in one of the other classes said, “That’s right! I got to ride a pony today!”

Of course, 5 minutes later we were faced with another crisis. While out, I’d bought two toy dinosaurs- a stegosaurus and a spinosaurus. The Little Kidlet has been jealously eyeing the dinosaurs in the Pre-K classroom, so I thought it’d be nice. Typically we get two of everything just to avoid fights… but they’re dinos. The whole point of playing with dinosaurs is having a variety. No sooner than I gave one to the Oldest Kidlet, he started to melt down.

I really don’t want to think that my son is spoiled. But I’m starting to think that he’s gotten used to getting nearly everything that he wants, and if I don’t put a stop to freakouts like that- he will be one of those kids.

So how did I handle it? I told him that I’d bought the dinosaurs as a surprise. That if he was going to inform me that he acts like this when I do something nice for him, that I’m not going to try to surprise him like this again. He seemed to understand, and quieted down while we drove home. As I was on the road, I could hear him counting. “16, 17, 18…” So I asked what he was counting. “There are 19 plates on the stegosaurus.”

“See? If you had a different dinosaur, you wouldn’t be able to count plates.”

“That’s true.” Then he went back to counting plates.

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