14 July 2009


It is becoming apparent that my rogue nation does not like the new world order. In other words, he is pissed off at me.

It began with subtle remarks that, not coincidentally, entered the lexicon this week. On Saturday morning he was watching TV, and as I bent down to give him a kiss, Sacha turned to me and said, "Could you please go away?" and went back to watching his show.

I laughed this off, and came back a few minutes later to sit with him.

His response was, "I don't want you."

I've been hearing variants of this all week, always delivered with utmost politesse. I take this a good sign of my parenting; even when being rude, my children are exceptionally polite!

But civilly expressing his discontent was not getting Sacha anywhere. And so tonight, he took up arms against his oppressor, and BIT ME.

We were having a quiet moment snuggling, and apropos of nothing, he leaned over and sunk his teeth into my forearm. The shock, not to mention the pain, caused me to jump, and I gave him a slap on the back to dislodge his jaws from my flesh, and express my discontent.

When I released him from jail the step, I handed him over to David to bathe and put to bed. He screamed so loudly through his bath that David had to get Guantanamo on him and splash him with cold water in order settle him down long enough to hear that it is unacceptable to bite anyone, and he would not be watching television tomorrow.

Tonight we caught the tail end of The Incredibles on TV. In light of what I am dealing with, I thought it fitting that when Jack Jack's superpower emerges, it is, essentially, an awesome tantrum.

He can take as long as he likes to toilet train, but I will not revoke my fatwas. What a hard case I have!

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