Temper, temper

Daelyn's going through a stage where he says mean things to me, usually when he's disciplined. He'll go running from the room, yelling, "You're the WORST Mommy in the whole world!" Often, he adds, "You're a dumb Mommy."

Now, the last one is particularly problematic, since it's not only disrespect of his mother and ugliness that's way over the top, but we also do not allow our children to use the words, "dumb", "stupid", or "shut up". This expletive is several offenses wrapped into one.

We've been clamping down hard on him when he talks this way. But, the truth is, Daelyn has a lot of Irish blood AND an Irish temper, just like me. Add testosterone to that and it's a recipe for disaster.

Some of his ill-manners are quite understandable to me, since I struggle with an Irish temper, as well. I'm a happy, joyful person by nature, and have learned to control my anger most of the time, but when I lose it, I lose it BIG. Once, while in college, I received a phone call that angered me. I pulled the phone out of the wall. Once, I was angry for weeks after someone who responded to my car for sale ad in the newspaper hit my new car with my old car in the driveway of my house. I had to be avoided by my friends until I was able to "shake it off".

So Daelyn's temper is understandable, however, totally unacceptable. We've been working very hard at getting it under control with time-outs, being sent to his bedroom, restriction from this or that, etc. We've tried spanking, but it only seems to exacerbate the problem.

Last night, Daelyn was thrilled with dinner. We had left-over pesto chicken over fettucini with honied carrots. His exuberance was refreshing.

"Mama, thank you for this WONDERFUL meal. You're the best Mommy EVER!!"

Somehow, the compliment wasn't quite as meaningful as it would have been without previous negative comments to the opposite. Nastiness can't be forgotten by one episode of extremely affectionate talk.

I glanced at Deanna who was smirking.

"So, Mommy's the best now, not the dumbest?" She looked over at me and rolled her eyes.

"He's fickle, honey. Just let it go."

"What's 'fickle', Mom?" Dane asked.

"Stick around for a few minutes, son, and you'll have a great example."

By this morning, I had lost my title of "best mom" and was back to "stinky mom". One day, perhaps, my changeling will be more stable and appreciate his mother. Until then, we discipline, love, and try hard to teach our little one the pitfalls of temper.