tennyson's latest meltdown

Tennyson is having the meltdown of all meltdowns right now. The last half hour or so with him has been exceptionally trying.

The other day when I dropped him off at nursery school I could hear him call "Mommy" as I reached the outside door. Then I heard him start crying. I left anyway. I phoned in a little later, Mrs. C said that he had been fine a minute later, and that leaving was the thing to do. I knew that really, I just wanted to make sure that that's what the teachers there wanted.

Tennyson has told me a few times in the last couple of days that he didn't get a snack at nursery school the other day, and that all the other kids did. I kept assuring him that yes, he must have gotten a snack. His nursery school is awesome, and their awesomeness is not derived from choosing one kid to not give a snack to. He kept insisting, and then finally he told me "Mommy, I did not get one, I did not! Ask my teachers!"

So I did. I figured it was probably something silly, like he didn't like what he was served and they wouldn't have something different for him.

Mrs. C. had no idea what I was talking about. He hadn't made any kind of fuss about anything. She wondered if maybe he had wanted seconds and there weren't seconds, or something like that. I knew it wasn't that he was denied a snack. We got chatting about the antics of kids, and the things they do for attention.

That's when she said something like "They know what works."

Tennyson cries. When that doesn't work he gets himself hysterical and screams and cries and sobs and kicks things. I remembered Steven saying (eons ago) that Tennyson thinks that if he cries he'll get what he wants. At the time I thought that Steven was being a little harsh.

Now I think Steven was dead on the money.

Tonight I was sitting in my bed with the four kids. Steven's at work. I was reading a story, and Tennyson was turned outward and playing with stuff on Steven's dresser. I told him that if he wanted a story he needed to leave the stuff alone. He ignored me (he does that) and continued fiddling with Steven's stuff. I snapped at him to put it down. He turned with a big "humph" and looked at the book again. Elliot started to squirm, so I got off the bed and took her into her room and put her in the crib. When I came back, Tennyson was back in Steven's coins, receipts, etc. again. I told him again to leave it alone and started reading the story again. He ignored me. I said "Tennyson, if you don't leave that alone you will not be having story anymore." More ignoring.

The ignoring drives me crazy.

I told him to go to his bed. He hopped off the bed and ambled across the hall. I don't think he realized what was happening. When he heard me start the next book he started to cry. He does this angry cry these days. I ignored him and finished reading the book, to the accompaniment of him freaking out across the hall. I didn't say anything to him. I try not to lend power to this behavior, but it's awfully hard sometimes.

I ushered Mitchell and Jordan to the bathroom to brush their teeth. On the way I snagged Tennyson, who was still crying, and brought him too. I got their brushes ready and handed them to the kids. Jordan and Mitchie started brushing, Tennyson stood their with his tooth brush in hand and sobbed about missing his story, and refused to stick his toothbrush in his mouth. I know he's waiting for me to engage him. Somehow, kids love confrontation. It's odd. He probably figured that I'd take him back and read that story. I decided not to let him disrupt and lengthen the entire nighttime routine. When Jordan and Mitchie were done, I took the toothbrushes from all three kids and rinsed them off. Tennyson, who had not actually brushed his teeth, began crying and screaming louder because now he didn't get to brush his teeth. I told them all to go into the boys' room for songs. They all crawled to the top bunk, Tennyson still crying/screaming/sobbing. There was no way I was going to sing over that. I calmly told him a couple of times that if he didn't settle down he would not be getting a song. He continued the drama. I sent Jordan and Mitchell to Jordan's room. I told Tennyson he was not to come, because he was being too noisy.

I didn't think he'd be able to wail louder. Or angrier. Go figure.

I had Jordan and Mitchie in her bed and we sang a couple of their favorites. Tennyson stood in the doorway and cried louder. I'm sure by now that it was partly because he really wanted to be heard and partly because by now he wasn't sure how to wind himself down. They get like that. I shut Jordan's bedroom door. He laid on the floor in the hall and continued the tantrum.

I prayed with Jordan and gave her a hug and kiss. I took Mitchie back to his bed. I lifted Tennyson (still freaking out) onto the top bunk. I prayed, hugged and kissed Mitchie. I stood up beside Tennyson and asked him if he wanted to do his prayer. He cried, and sobbed, and sucked air, and oozed snot and tears. I rubbed his head and did his prayer. I gave him a hug and kiss. I left. I sat on my bed for a few minutes and listened to him cry and scream "prayer" and kick the walls. I figured nobody else was getting any sleep, so I went in there, quietly picked him up and carried him into the kitchen where I sat him on a stool and told him he was in time out. Then I unceremoniously left him alone in there and went back to my room. He cried for a couple more minutes before there was silence in the kitchen. I went back. He was just sitting there, all sad, with a big sad, teary face. I asked him if he was ready to go back to bed. He asked if he was going to get prayer. I said no, that prayer time was over. His chin quivered and he started to sniffle again. I told him that if he was going to cry that he could sit in time out a little longer if he wasn't ready for bed. He managed to pull himself together. He said "I didn't get to do any of the stuff." I agreed, and told him that he could do the stuff tomorrow, but that it was now too late and it was time for bed. I carried him back to bed, gave him a hug and kiss and left. All has been quiet since.

Do you know how hard it is to actually deny him this stuff? And how hard it is not to just get mad and smack his bum when this kind of stuff starts?

Mrs. C. was right. He knows what works. He knows that when he does this at diaper gym that I'll go a little easier on him because I don't want to escalate it into an all-out meltdown. I like to think that I'm pretty tough, and good with the consistency, but the truth is that there are times that I know they've gotten away with stuff. I count. Counting is dumb, actually. Then they know that they don't have to listen until you count. Then I have to count all the bloody time. I tell them things a few times before there are consequences. I know that once I've said something once, consequences should follow a fraction of a second after they ignore what I said. Instead, I tell them a couple of more times before they finally stomp off.

It's tough, this gig. I want them to listen, I want them to be happy, I want everything to be smooth all the time. It sucks that these meltdowns are injected randomly into the smoothness of our home. Because actually, they're pretty good kids, but they know what works.

I'm actually kind of exhausted by tonight's performance, but I'm kind of proud of myself too for keeping a level head. Level headedness is hard at 8pm. With four little kids. Who cry. And rage.

I didn't yell, I didn't spank anyone, I didn't give in. Tennyson got to cry and rant for as long as he liked, and in the end all that he managed to control was getting himself out of time out and back into bed. With a three year old I'd say that's pretty good.