Kicking Grass on a Warm Turd

I have noticed lately that if I get onto Troy about his behavior, that he will raise his response to meet my discipline. Then, he will promptly escalate it well beyond it. The more I get onto him, the more he acts out in revolt.

For example, today he was sitting in his bath like normal, and my wife was taking a shower. He asked me if he could get in the shower with her. He sometimes likes to do this to play in the “rain.” Unfortunately, she was almost done and was rushing to go make dinner. So, I told him that he couldn’t do it today. To which he started pouting.

Deciding that he wasn’t enjoying his bath anymore, I started to wash his hair to expedite his removal from the tub. At this point, he started screaming at me and slapping my hands away from his head. I told him that was inappropriate and continued to scrub his head more forcefully. So, he screamed louder and then stood up to get away from me. If I tried to get to him, then he’d run to the other end of the tub. So, I got onto him about running in the tub and how dangerous it was. His scowl deepened.

Having had enough of his attitude and feeling myself well past the “safe” point with my temper, I simply pulled the plug on the tub to let the water drain out. As we both stood there waiting for the water to slowly drain out, we engaged into a stubborn stare off. Me frowning at him, and him glaring at me.

His head was tilted slightly down, so that his icy stare was filtered through his little eyebrows. His arms hanging limply by his sides. His shoulders slumped forward. And then all of a sudden, he just started kicking the water out of the tub at me. It was like watching a baseball player kicking dirt on an umpire. Or perhaps a dog kicking grass on a fresh, warm turd. Either way, it was defiant and calculated. Troy was showing me just what he thought about my authoritarian tactics.

The stupidest part about all of this is that it most likely could have been completely avoided. If I had shown him compassion and patience instead, staying calm and explaining things to him, then he most likely would have had his brief moment and moved on. Perhaps I could have distracted him or made him laugh. But by choosing to get frustrated with him, the situation escalated and then set the tone for the remainder of the night.

I’m not saying that days after this won’t be just as hard, but it was definitely insightful for me. I’d rather laugh and play with my son than have us separated by pillows on the couch, avoiding each other. And it all starts with controlling my own emotions. The good news is that he is incredibly forgiving. And tomorrow, we’ll wake up with a clean slate, having put the past behind us. I’ll kiss him awake and tickle his cheeks with my mustache. He’ll come running into the kitchen, while I’m making breakfast, reach for me again, and ask me, “Doing, dada?” And I’ll thank God that I have another chance to try to be a good father.