Battles

As with any family...we have a bizillion battles a day.

Let me just list some of our daily ones:

Morning Milk Cup Battle
Placemat Battle
Short-sleeves vs. Long-sleeves Battle
Counter vs. Toilet to Brush Teeth Battle
Boots vs. Sneakers Battle
JUST EAT YOUR FREAKING LUNCH Battle
Please Just Get in the Car Battle
He's Looking at Me Battle
He's Laughing at Me Battle
He's Roaring at Me Battle
I Wanted that First Battle
JUST EAT YOUR BLASTED DINNER Battle
I Don't Want Those Pajamas Battle
I Wanted to Turn Out the Light Battle
You Snuggled Him First LAST Night Battle

Do I really need to go on?  It is absolutely exhausting.  Today I actually had to give myself a timeout in my room where I begged God to help me find some self-control before I trashed the whole house and ran for a Dairy Queen. 

I tell myself every day to choose each battle wisely.  I think that was a lot easier though when there was just one little warrior to go toe-to-toe with every day.  Of course it's even more important to choose wisely when there are more bruisers in the ring.  I get it.  But oh some days it feels like they wake up to fight. 

Yesterday at lunch Sam and I were in the ring.  He wasn't eating.  We had to get to preschool for his Valentine's Day party and it was taking him forever to eat the smallest requirement.  I was sure that there was going to be pounds of sugar at the party and he was already suffering from a birthday weekend from refined sugar hell.  I threatened him that if he didn't finish his lunch by a certain time, he wasn't going to make it to school at all.  Do you know what he said to me?  He said, "I think you'll change your mind."  And he was SMILING!!!   
Here is why this was so maddening to me.  I don't change my mind.  I almost always stick to my guns.  And when I do change my mind, it is usually attached to an apology for giving a consequence that isn't fitting for an offense and then I follow it up with a more appropriate one.  I work hard to be consistent. 
I was even more mad because I really didn't want him to miss school yesterday.  For his sake.  He needed to be there.  My two desires of not wanting him to miss out and yet wanting him to suffer appropriate consequences were battling it out inside of me.  It was torture.  I even had back-up.  Jonathan's mom was here encouraging me and affirming me in how hard the decision was and whatever decision I made.  
I want so badly to say that I won.  I want to say that he had to stay home and miss the party because it took him an hour and a half to eat one piece of sandwich meat and one slice of cheese.  But in the nick of time, I got the last bite into his mouth and he got to go to school.  I fed him the entire lunch.  I bartered every single bite he took.  It should have been his deal.  It should have been his choice.  And therefore his consequence.  But I did it for him so that he could go.  I felt like such a failure.  

More defeating than the lunch battle, was my behavior afterwards.  Getting Sam's teeth brushed to go, socks, shoes, backpack, carseat...I was so ridiculous.  I was so mad at Sam and at myself that I couldn't move on and actually set my 5 year old up for a great day at school.  My face and body language were downright childish.  By the time I got Sam buckled, he was crying because I was mad at him.  Really Beck?  Really?  So now we are skating into preschool late not because of Sam's lunch, but because I needed to take a breather, look my son in the eyes and apologize for MY bad choices.  Disappointing.  Humbling.  More disappointing. 

I'm actually hoping like crazy for yesterday's lunch battle to occur again on a day where he doesn't have a party.  I want a re-match.   

Sam-1, Beck-0