I think our model is defective. (Not the garage door model.)
Yesterday was one of those days where I never actually fully lost my temper, but I'm not sure that means I was actually being very patient or human-like, either. First of all, after six and a half years of accepting the mediocre quality of our garage door opener, John couldn't take it anymore. "Enough is enough!" he thought, as he sped towards the nearest Home Depot no less than FOUR TIMES (I can't remember all the reasons - once because he forgot something, once to buy a new saw, once to exchange it for one that was actually complete in its package...have I mentioned that I'm beginning to hate Home Depot?) on an entirely selfless mission to repair the faulty piece of equipment once and for all. I say "selfless" because I JUST KNOW there was no correlation between John's neverending garage door project and Bryce's behavior.
Apparently, someone had flipped Bryce's switch to "obnoxious overdrive" and he confirmed my suspicions that he's in a particularly challenging phase by making very purposeful moves to throw Quinn into nuclear meltdown mode. I'll grant you that it doesn't take much to accomplish this with a 2 1/2-year-old, but Bryce is such an expert at it that I will need to install a radiation meter pretty soon in order to avoid a fatal catastrophe. Here's how all the interactions looked: Quinn would peacefully be stacking up whatever flashcards he's currently obsessed with, and Bryce would come over and pick one up. Quinn would wail and gnash his teeth, and I would intervene, and tell Bryce to leave him alone. Two minutes later, Bryce would become passionately interested in a toy that Quinn wasn't actually touching, but was conveniently located in Quinn's line of vision. Quinn would see Bryce enjoying his toy. Quinn would wail and gnash his teeth, and I would intervene, and tell Quinn that Bryce technically wasn't doing anything wrong, even though we all knew exactly what was going on. All except for Quinn, the poor sap.
When Bryce wasn't torturing his brother, he was really into climbing! And jumping! And talking! And yelling! And singing! And all at once! And all with exclamation points! It was a little like a sharp pin prick! In the same sensitive spot! On the inside of your forearm! Over and over! And over!
Luckily, at bath time, John gave up for the day on his garage door project and we split the kids up for the nightly game of Fear Factor: Naked Soapy Pre-Schoolers Running In All Directions At Once. After I put Quinn to bed and apologized for all the times Bryce TOTALLY manipulated him and set him up (and, more importantly, all the times I TOTALLY fell for it), I walked into Bryce's room to find John in the middle of a story. He wasn't reading a story, he was listening to Bryce make up a story. Have you LOST YOUR MIND, man!? Do you realize what horrors you'll unleash on us all? You've given the universe's youngest dictator the power to decide when his story is over. There's no way out! God help us all.
The part of Bryce's story that I heard went something like this:
After the mouse played his harmonica on Hanukkah, the scientists discovered a 10th planet, and they called it The Nut Planet because it was shaped like an acorn and had a stem like an acorn. The solar system necklace [John asked who wore the solar system necklace and Bryce explained that no one could wear it, because OBVIOUSLY the sun would burn them if they did, DUH!] went on a trip to big, fun festival that was like a fair. Oh, and by the way, when the mouse woke up on Hanukkah morning, there were Christmas stockings from Santa, isn't that FUNNY? Anyway, so the solar system necklace was flying so high over all the buildings while the mouse was at this festival. [John interrupted to point out that he'd already been warned that it was time to end this fascinating story. Heh heh.] The solar system was way up in the sky over all the buildings, you know, and the mouse was at the festival which was really, really fun, and [John interrupted again to give him his last warning, and since we were both about to leave the room, I guess Bryce realized he was losing his audience.] And so, the solar system decided to land at the festival. The End!!
As we walked back downstairs, weary and shellshocked from our surrealistic day, John looked at me, shook his head, eyes wild, and said, "Where's the off switch?"
Apparently, someone had flipped Bryce's switch to "obnoxious overdrive" and he confirmed my suspicions that he's in a particularly challenging phase by making very purposeful moves to throw Quinn into nuclear meltdown mode. I'll grant you that it doesn't take much to accomplish this with a 2 1/2-year-old, but Bryce is such an expert at it that I will need to install a radiation meter pretty soon in order to avoid a fatal catastrophe. Here's how all the interactions looked: Quinn would peacefully be stacking up whatever flashcards he's currently obsessed with, and Bryce would come over and pick one up. Quinn would wail and gnash his teeth, and I would intervene, and tell Bryce to leave him alone. Two minutes later, Bryce would become passionately interested in a toy that Quinn wasn't actually touching, but was conveniently located in Quinn's line of vision. Quinn would see Bryce enjoying his toy. Quinn would wail and gnash his teeth, and I would intervene, and tell Quinn that Bryce technically wasn't doing anything wrong, even though we all knew exactly what was going on. All except for Quinn, the poor sap.
When Bryce wasn't torturing his brother, he was really into climbing! And jumping! And talking! And yelling! And singing! And all at once! And all with exclamation points! It was a little like a sharp pin prick! In the same sensitive spot! On the inside of your forearm! Over and over! And over!
Luckily, at bath time, John gave up for the day on his garage door project and we split the kids up for the nightly game of Fear Factor: Naked Soapy Pre-Schoolers Running In All Directions At Once. After I put Quinn to bed and apologized for all the times Bryce TOTALLY manipulated him and set him up (and, more importantly, all the times I TOTALLY fell for it), I walked into Bryce's room to find John in the middle of a story. He wasn't reading a story, he was listening to Bryce make up a story. Have you LOST YOUR MIND, man!? Do you realize what horrors you'll unleash on us all? You've given the universe's youngest dictator the power to decide when his story is over. There's no way out! God help us all.
The part of Bryce's story that I heard went something like this:
After the mouse played his harmonica on Hanukkah, the scientists discovered a 10th planet, and they called it The Nut Planet because it was shaped like an acorn and had a stem like an acorn. The solar system necklace [John asked who wore the solar system necklace and Bryce explained that no one could wear it, because OBVIOUSLY the sun would burn them if they did, DUH!] went on a trip to big, fun festival that was like a fair. Oh, and by the way, when the mouse woke up on Hanukkah morning, there were Christmas stockings from Santa, isn't that FUNNY? Anyway, so the solar system necklace was flying so high over all the buildings while the mouse was at this festival. [John interrupted to point out that he'd already been warned that it was time to end this fascinating story. Heh heh.] The solar system was way up in the sky over all the buildings, you know, and the mouse was at the festival which was really, really fun, and [John interrupted again to give him his last warning, and since we were both about to leave the room, I guess Bryce realized he was losing his audience.] And so, the solar system decided to land at the festival. The End!!
As we walked back downstairs, weary and shellshocked from our surrealistic day, John looked at me, shook his head, eyes wild, and said, "Where's the off switch?"
Labels: chaos rules, fringe dialogue
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