Jinx and vomit

I probably should have knocked on wood after I wrote up such a lovely birthday post for Logan, talking about how he had turned a corner with the meltdowns and was handling his feelings a little bit more appropriately. Either I had totally selective memory while I was caught up in my birthday nostalgia, or I totally jinxed myself.


I wrote the first half of that post the day before his birthday, but by the time I had written the rest and was ready to post, he was already proclaiming his day ruined and he was having the worst birthday ever. Dramatic much? And this is what happened when I dared to ask for a photo with the child I birthed from my loins 7 years ago on that day.


How dare I?!?


Unfortunately, during a total cluster of a time trying to get a tantruming Lorelai down for her nap, Logan got yelled at (not by me! Orange Rhino FTW!). And even though I tried to calmly remedy the situation, it spiraled out of control. He stormed up to his room, said he was going to throw away all his presents, and said all kinds of hurtful things to me like "you don't love me! You never love me!" It was certainly nowhere near as bad as his temper tantrums have gotten in the past, but it was extra hurtful because it was on such a special day, and I truly, honestly, was nothing but sweet and comforting to him when he got upset. (Side note: I'm giving myself mad props for not having any kind of mental breakdown or screaming match from all of the tantrums going on. Deep breaths...)

On the plus side, he came out of it fairly quickly, and was all better by the time his cousins came over so they could enjoy some quality time eating pizza and brownies and playing Skylanders on the Wii.

But...BUT! It wasn't all sunshine and birthday unicorns from there on out. By 9pm, he was writhing in pain on the bathroom floor with a horrible stomach ache, and then proceeded to puke up his entire dessert. Because of course. Of course Logan couldn't have been spared, on his birthday no less, from the vomit that has plagued our house for what was now the 3rd weekend in a row. First Lorelai, then Aidan. I should have seen it coming for Logan from a mile away. Sure, I think it had much more to do with the 3 chocolate donuts, a few slices of pizza and one monster-sized birthday brownie he scarfed down over the course of the day as opposed to whatever Lorelai and Aidan had. But still. 3 kids, 3 weekends of puke. Lovely.

We're all better now, so if Adam and I can make it through this weekend without either of us throwing up, maybe our "lucky" streak will be broken. Fingers crossed. Toilet bowls thoroughly cleaned, just in case. :)


PS: I have to say that I really do think Logan has turned that corner. And no matter what this post sounds like in my effort to document our reality--both the good and the bad--I meant every single heartfelt word I said about him. Just in case that didn't go without saying.

PPS: For the record--he done went crazy again this morning when I asked him to be more helpful like Aidan. Apparently what he heard was "I hate you, Logan." Sigh. 

The Cheeto Meltdown

It's no secret that Lorelai has some seriously hilarious moments that I love to document and look back on fondly. But she also has some batshit crazy moments where she cries and throws tantrums for no reason whatsoever. In these moments, sometimes all I can do is laugh (when I'm not wanting to cry or scream). Oh, the joys of toddlerhood. She's 3 for sure!

Inspired by Reasons My Son is Crying and a comical meltdown over Cheetos, here are some of the 4376 reasons why Lorelai is crying.




...because I wouldn't let her have only Cheetos for dinner.

...because daddy poured her milk instead of mommy.

...because I put her hair in a pony tail.

...because Aidan said "hi" to her when she walked in the house.

And my favorite meltdown recently:

...because the sink was in the bathroom and not the bedroom, so she didn't want to wash her hands after going potty. She laid on the floor of the bedroom, kicking and screaming, wanting me to move the sink. Cray!


To be continued, I'm sure...

How do you reason with a crazy person?

I don't even know how to start this post, other than to say that Logan did it again. He went absolutely crazy and I had no idea what to do. I'm an emotional wreck right now and completely questioning my abilities as a parent. (Bear with me on the rambling, I'm hoping I'll feel better if I write this out...)

Yesterday morning, Adam left early to go out of town again so I was on daycare and bus duty. Not much changes with our routine, except the boys have to leave the house about 15 minutes earlier than they do when Adam takes them to the bus, but they're usually ready anyway. Unfortunately, we didn't have any pop tarts, and apparently that was the only thing Logan was willing to eat, so he freaked out. Refused to do anything I asked (it's a miracle he even got into the van with me), including getting on the bus. He was refusing to go to school, saying over and over that he hates school and won't go.

I literally had to drag him onto the bus and block the door so he couldn't run out. His bus driver (a total saint!) ended up parking the bus in the middle of the road so he could get out and physically pick Logan up kicking and screaming to wrestle him (with my permission) into his seat which took a great bit of effort, apparently with some help on Aidan's part to keep him in the seat. All the while, I'm in hysterics on the side of the road watching helpless, as cars are looking on waiting to pass.

I was mortified and sick to my stomach with fear, sadness and helplessness. Fear that Logan would try to run off the bus into traffic, hurt someone or get suspended. Sadness that my sweet boy gets like this. Helplessness over the whole situation and the fact that I have NO idea what to do when he gets like this, or how to snap him out of it. There's no reasoning with him when he gets like this. No amount of bargaining, bribing, punishing, guilt or pleading I do has any effect.

The good news is that he made it to school safe and sound, and after some serious convincing to get him off the bus and into the building, had a decent day at school and didn't get suspended. I was hoping he would be forced to go to the principal's office and that would scare him straight, but all he got was a friendly chat with the vice principal in the hall to make sure he was ok.

I, on the other hand, pretty much cried all day (left work early and all). Why does he do this? Why does it seem to only happen with me? What have I done wrong? What do people think of me? What does Logan think of me??

We did have a good conversation when he got home about how what he did was wrong, and he seemed sorry and seemed to get it. I explained that his actions have consequences and he has to be punished (he's grounded for the rest of the week, and on technology restriction through the weekend) so he knows it's wrong and won't want to do it again. He said he doesn't like seeing me cry and only says he doesn't like school when he gets upset like that. But he said he doesn't know why he gets so upset like that. And he clearly doesn't know how to calm himself down, so I have no confidence that my calm chat with him will have any impact on future behavior.

As much as it hurts me to admit, I'm thinking it might be time to call in some professional help again. I need someone to tell me what to do to prevent this, or how to snap him out of his insanity, because whatever I'm doing just isn't working. He doesn't respect my authority--I have no control over my own child. That's terrible. I'm scared for his future and my sanity.

I said it before, I'll say it again: I just want my sweet Logan back. I can't go through this again.



And even though I fear being judged--both me and Logan--maybe by putting this out there, someone will have some advice for me, or at least tell me I'm not alone. Maybe?

I can't go through this again

Three years ago, we went through a really rough time with Logan. So rough that we took him to a child psychologist a couple of times because I thought he was emotionally unstable and we needed help dealing with it. He would freak out and throw tantrums over the littlest of issues, and would become completely irrational and unreasonable and physically violent. He would tell us "I want to hurt you" and become physically violent with us and sometimes try to hurt himself. It was terrifying and horribly difficult to live through. And this went on for probably close to 6 months. Without a doubt, this was the most difficult parenting challenge I've ever had to face.

Then we got through it, I chalked it up to a phase that he grew out of, blocked out some of the most horrible encounters from my memory, and moved on. He still had some outbursts, but nothing like he used to have. Until last week. And then again last night.

It all started with a simple mistake in the way he wrote the number 3 on one of his papers from school. When I helpfully corrected him, he became angry and insisted that the way he wrote it was right, and that every other number 3 in the world was wrong. He insisted, despite me and Aidan calmly pointing out other examples throughout the house. He tried to rip up his paper, and when I refused to let him by putting the paper where he couldn't reach it, he launched into a fit of rage.

He kicked me, punched me in my arms, my throat and my head, pinched me, pushed me, screamed at me. All despite my calm, but firm voice (which I'm impressed I was able to mostly maintain) begging and pleading with him to stop, and my insistence that I loved him and wanted to help him get through it. He was relentless and very difficult for me to physically restrain.

At the point where I got punched in the throat and had to pin Logan on the ground to protect myself, I couldn't help but cry, which then really upset Aidan and made him cry. On his birthday, of all days. It was a terrible ordeal that didn't end until Adam got home to talk some sense into him. And then he was fine and we went to Moe's for Aidan's birthday as planned. It's like he's two different people.

Later that night at bedtime, he told me he doesn't like being wrong, and was mad that I told him he was wrong. This is really scary to me, because what if he reacts that way when his teacher tries to help him when he's wrong? How do we prevent that?

I'm literally sitting here crying right now and sick to my stomach with worry, because I can't go through this again. I can't watch as my child screams that I don't love him and he doesn't love me, and he would rather die than do what I want him to do. I can't physically handle his force now that he's bigger. And there's so much more at stake now that he's in public school.

The physical bruises hurt, but the pain in my heart and the fear of what's to come and what this means about the person he's going to become is too much to bear. Where did my sweet Logan go and how can I get him back?

This is why I was worried about Kindergarten.

When I said yesterday that "with Logan, it can be hard to tell how he'll react to something," what I was really getting at is that he loses his $h!* over the most ridiculous things sometimes and can become completely irrational and unreasonable (most notably and inconveniently when it comes to daycare drop offs even as recently as this year).

I've said before that he has a hard time handling his emotions, so I had mentally prepared for a rough drop off on his first day of kindergarten. I thought we had made it over the "transitions are hard" hurdle with him after such a great first day, but it turns out today was rock bottom after such a high point yesterday.

Logan got kicked out of daycare on his last ever day there. Yeah, that happened. And I'm mortified, upset, pissed and disappointed.

I honestly have no idea what set him off, but somewhere during the 2-minute drive to his last day at daycare, he decided that he was.not.going. I used every trick in my mommy arsenal to convince him to get out of the van: encouragement, compassion, humor, bribery, punishment, tears, and even brute force (and I have a kink in my neck to show for it). Nothing worked, so I carried Lorelai inside in tears and the director offered to try to get him.

That didn't work either, so I sat in the car with Logan, begging and crying for him to get out. For THIRTY MINUTES! He said he wanted to stay in the car all day, and when I told him it wasn't an option because it's too dangerous--kids die from being in hot cars for too long (I was going for the shock factor here)--he told me he would rather die than get out of the car. Lots of tears ensued and more hurtful words were said. You NEVER want to hear that you child thinks you don't love him, and that he doesn't love you either. He even said that if Adam came to help "I'll just unbuckle myself while daddy's driving so he goes to jail" (we may have overstated the consequences of not buckling up at time or two in the past...).

I finally convinced him to let me unbuckle him, but he immediately changed his mind and I had to physically carry him from the back seat of the van into the building kicking and screaming. The director took him and said he'd be fine since he usually calms down quickly after a bad drop off at school.

I cried all the way to work and then for a while longer in my friend's office because it was just that upsetting to me (parenting failure much?). I finally calmed down just in time to get a call saying that Logan was still kicking, punching, and trying to run out of the building. They needed me to pick him up. And just to kick me while I was down, they had packed up his cubby and papers and had it all sitting in a pile by the front door when I got there.

By the time I got there, he had calmed down (probably glad because he got what he wanted--not having to be at daycare), and he agreed to come to work with me. Because on top of all of that ridiculousness, our a/c broke last night, so I wasn't about to spend all day in a hot house with a kid who has lost TV and Wii privileges.

Thankfully, he was on his best behavior while he hung out at work with me, even though he did get totally stir-crazy. Thank goodness for awesome co-workers who gave him things to entertain him. But in hindsight, he said he would rather been playing with his friends. TOLD YOU SO! GAH!



He even took the time to write an apology note to his awesome teacher and draw her a picture. (Which obviously I made him do, but he didn't even complain about it.)

He told me what he wanted to write, I dictated the letters. Plus, arts and crafts with a sharpie and a stray magazine in the recycle pile. Use what you got, right?

Then he did the same on my white board. Now that he's calm, I think he really does feel bad for hurting our feelings and completely ruining his last day of daycare.

"Sorry for makeg you kry." He knew how to spell some of the words from his letter to his teacher, and he sounded out the others on his own.

Suffice it to say that it was NOT a good day, and not at all how I envisioned his last day at the place he's been for almost every day of the week since he was 12 weeks old. Unceremoniously kicked out. For violence. And now I bow my head in prayer that this NEVER happens again. Dear God, please.

And I also pray our a/c gets fixed tomorrow. I'm in no mood to handle this heat in my house.

No birthday toys for ONE WHOLE WEEK!

Don't let this super sweet smile fool you...





Beneath the surface lurks Logan's alter ego: a completely irrational and angry little beast. Of course it's all good when everything goes according to HIS plan, but if not, better look out because he's going to unleash the beast.

So yeah. One whole day after he got them at his birthday party, Logan has already had all of his birthday toys taken away for one week. All because Adam and I had the audacity to ask him to clean up the toys, every.single.one of which was in the middle of the floor of various rooms throughout our house.

Yep. All of those.

All 4,376 of them.



They're all gone, including the Magic kit, watch and skateboards Aidan lovingly picked out at the dollar store.


This led to one of Logan's infamous meltdowns, this time about how he hates cleaning up. Here's basically how our convo went and how ridiculous Logan can be:

Logan: I ALWAYS have to clean up EVERYTHING in this house."YOU AND DADDY DON'T DO ANYTHING!" (Which he said to me while I was in the middle of putting clothes in the dryer.)

Me (calmly, it's very worth noting): Mommy and Daddy do plenty more in this house than you and Aidan do. When was the last time you had to do laundry, dust, mop the floors, clean the toilets and sinks, vacuum the upstairs carpet (we do have them vac the rug under the kitchen table), or change the sheets?

Logan (defiantly): All the time.

Me: No you don't, Logan. But we all live here and we all have to help out in some way. That's what's fair.

Logan: No it's NOT FAIR!!!!


Me: You know what?  If you don't want to clean up your own toys, then I'll do it. But if I have to clean them up, I'm taking them to someone who will treat them with more respect than you do. If you can't clean up your toys, you don't get the privilege to keep them.

Logan (with tears in his eyes): All of them? Every single one?

Me: Yep, every single one.

Logan (with an evil look in his eye now): Then I'll just punch you (as he raises up both of his fists).

!!!!!!!!!!! I wish I had my camera to capture the look and the gesture he gave me when he said that. It would have been comical, if it wasn't so wrong.

I immediately sent him to his room for timeout, but he kept talking back to me, repeatedly opening then slamming the door shut (while Lorelai was sitting right outside), and kicking the door. I gave him several warnings that if he kept talking back and didn't calm down, I'd take all of his new birthday toys away for one week. Surprise! He didn't calm down and even started throwing around words like stupid and worst birthday ever.

I got Aidan to help me gather up all of his new toys. I felt bad about that, but only because Aidan was really enjoying the new toys, too. I apologized that this ended up being sort of a punishment for him too, but that I had to do it. He said, "I know, you warned him. He should have listened." Thank goodness at least one of my children understands. Too bad it's not the one that mattered most right then...

I predict quite a few  meltdowns in the next few days every time Logan realizes he doesn't have any of his new toys to play with. Or the Lego Star Wars Wii game, that's still confiscated since the birthday meltdown.

Too bad, so sad. No tennis this week!

Killer boots, dude. They're mine until Sunday.

Oh, and to start my Monday off just right, I had to physically force Logan into his pre-K classroom this morning because he decided that he hates school and didn't want to go into that particular classroom with those particular friends and those particular teachers (the SAME ones as almost every morning!). The drop off room is usually the younger preschool classroom, even though one of his pre-K teachers and some friends are already in there. He said he didn't want to be in the "baby" classroom. If you ask me, I think he belonged just fine. UGH!

It's going to be a loooong week. But um, happy Monday?!