Last week, my mommy BFF noticed the frequency, intensity, and commitment that Jonas displays when arguing with me. Of course he does the same sort of Yes/No tug-o-war that I think most children at his age do, but his debate skills seem to go far beyond that. Once my friend pointed out Jonas’s funny (well, funny to her – intensely annoying to me) behavior, I started paying attention to see if other children argued with their moms the way my child argues with me. I thought this was a preschooler thing, but I’m starting to realize that maybe it’s not.
The thing is, I try not to argue with him. I see no point in a 32 year old woman arguing with a nearly-4 year old child. If I say we can’t have any more cookies before dinner, then to me, that’s the end of that discussion. To him, that is just the beginning.
First, there’s begging. Then, there’s jumping up and down. Then, there’s the screaming. Next comes the negotiating: “Mommy, but if I do x,y,z, THEN can I have more cookies?” And of course, when nothing else works, he’s got persistence on his side. He will stand in front of me for an hour or more and say “Mommy, you WILL give me cookies. Right now! Do you hear me MOMMY!?!?” (This is what he was doing when my friend commented on his superb debate skills.) Meanwhile, I go about my business, and fantasize about having one of those agreeable children that I read about on other people’s blogs.
Sometimes, He goes straight for the big guns: Guilt.
Jonas has mastered the art of what some people call Catholic guilt, even though this is a god-less household. I think his father’s 13 years of parochial school somehow passed into Jonas’s genetic makeup. Here’s a list of guilt trips I hear on a daily basis.
But Grandma lets me watch more TV!
But Mommy, if you leave the house, I’ll be lost!
But Mommy, I need to eat food so I can be healthy! (when I refuse the cookies)
But Mommy, I have bad dreams in my bed. I have good dreams in your bed!
And the list goes on. Every day, he finds a new approach, and I realize that 20 years from now, I’ll be running “Crosley-Corcoran & Sons, Attorneys at Law.”
Now, when he starts trying to wear me down, I try to be proud that my child is so passionate and committed to his views. Maybe he’ll grow up and become a leader who hounds the present administration into giving us real healthcare. Or maybe he’ll pass federal legislation protecting breastfeeding. Perhaps he’ll make a billion dollars selling ketchup popsicles to ladies in white gloves. I don’t know what he’ll end up doing with this skill, but I imagine it will serve him as well as it has served me.
In the meantime, it makes me want to stick my head in the oven.
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Tell me, does your child do this? And if so, how do you survive the day without shipping them to the nearest unsuspecting relative?
Just now seeing this article, and I'm loving the ketchup popsicles comment. It's hilarious!I swear my 2 year old little girl is the same way already! "Gamaw gimme cookie!"
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