Hellboy

I really hope Colin isn’t the type of kid where we say, “Wow, they say terrible-twos are bad, but with Colin, he was a terrible-three!” because quite frankly, I’m not sure he is going to make it to his third birthday.

I’ve already discussed that he is a “biter,” which luckily has subsided and he hasn’t drawn blood in several weeks (knock on wood). The problem now is he has resorted to full out pile drives, headlocks and pinning children down by sitting on their face. He doesn’t discriminate either; he will go after his sister, boys and his favorite, baby girls at the daycare at the gym.

 

I got called down to the daycare yesterday and the first thing I saw was one of the caregivers holding a little girl who was no older than two and she was sobbing so hard there was snot flying out of her nose. I hoped that the reason that child was crying was not the reason I was called down, but I was wrong. I went to grab a tissue for the little girl and out of the corner of my eye spotted a little lump of trouble sitting in the corner. I heard “Mommy” and realized it was Colin on timeout.

I grabbed him and strongly scolded him for hurting the little girl. Clearly my lecture before we left the house, in the car on the way to the gym and right before he entered the childcare center didn’t sink in. I brought him over to the little girl he pummeled and made him apologize. I also made him say what he was sorry for. We are trying to avoid having him just say, “sorry” so maybe at some point he will realize what he is actually doing to get in so much trouble.

The woman at the childcare center assured me that this was just a phase and that he will grow out of it. “After all, it isn’t like he is going to go off to college and still be doing this,” she laughed. Then the thought of my middle brother popped into my head. He actually did go off to college beating the crap out of people. Granted, he left the girls alone at that point, but he was known to throw a few punches at other drunk dudes at the bar who looked at him wrong and he usually just punched trees when girls were involved.

Later in the day, the kids actually played nicely together while I got part of the house cleaned. I was hoping Colin got all his aggression out early in the day. However, after his nap he regained some steam and started Hellboy Part 2. It started with the usual pushing and shoving match with Maddie, followed by kicking her and a few scissor moves to pin her down. After I separated them and went back to cooking dinner, I heard Maddie crying again because Colin threw a plastic hockey puck at her head. After timeout number 114, Colin arrived in the kitchen saying, “Look at me mommy!” He had drawn all over his arms with brown, yellow and blue marker. Visions of a tattooed, bar room brawler popped into my head and I am thinking maybe instead of 2-year old preschool, we should be looking at military schools.

When Tom got home from work (earlier than usual, thank God) I had him deal with the situation and took Maddie to get a haircut. Tom said he was going to make him do calisthenics in the garage to teach him some discipline and burn off some of his energy. However, when I arrived home Colin looked like he had been crying the whole time I was gone and was instructed to apologize to me for the way he acted before I left. Apparently Colin spent a good portion of my time away on the bench in our entryway that acts as our timeout place. Tom had a “come to Jesus” talk with him and he was sweet as pie the rest of the night, but woke up the next morning full of piss and vinegar all over again.

He began by spreading a spoonful of peanut butter all over the kitchen table and then sticking Cheerios on it. Then he had the brilliant idea to get his bulldozer to clean up the Cheerio mess. Finally, instead of eating breakfast he went and took one of Maddie’s toys and when she tried to get it back from him, he smacked her. I will admit he got a smack on the ass for that, but it hurt me more than it hurt him. And besides, he just got up and continued with the WWF wrestling match he started the night before. While he was on time out for yet another infraction, he pulled his diaper off. Awhile later I was talking to Tom on the phone who asked how my morning was going. I was recounting the events of the morning to Tom, Colin heard me say “butt” as in “I smacked him in the butt” and he began running around the house saying “I got poo poo in my butt!” Another fun phase…potty talk.

Finally, both of them decided to push me to my limit by playing their new favorite game “Angry Birds” where they run along the sectional couch and then fling themselves either into each other or on the cushions. I finally got them to stop and we vacated the premises to go to the petting zoo and park with a friend of ours. I was hoping to burn some energy so he will spare me a little for the rest of today.

It is funny because he can be so sweet and smart, which is good because I think otherwise I would sell him to the gypsies. The other day I walked in the room to find my Swiffer by his train table because he had stolen my brown eye shadow and crushed it up to make dirt for his bulldozer. Apparently he felt remorse and wanted to try and clean up after his mistake. He always gives big giant hugs and kisses and tells me he loves me. He loves to cuddle and has a phenomenal sense of humor. People keep telling me he will change and this is only a phase, but I can’t help but wonder if his behavior is a sign of things to come. Am I going to be the parent who constantly gets phone calls for “disruptive behavior” at school? What will his report cards say? Will he punch kids at the bus stop because he wants to be first in line? Will he pin kids down in the back of the bus and steal their lunch money? Can I expect bar room brawls? Should I start saving money for bail instead of college? I keep thinking that once he is old enough martial arts classes, football or wrestling will help him channel some of his aggression, but I worry that it will also encourage it.

I know it is my responsibility to guide him in the right direction, but so far no form of discipline is sinking into to his fat, bald head. I bought a book about how to discipline your child without yelling and spanking and he happened to tear it up. I’ve even tried to use my mom’s favorite tactic; good old- fashion Catholic guilt, and tell him God is watching. His response reflected that he thought he wouldn’t get presents on Christmas. No, God and Santa are not the same, Colin, and any efforts to discuss the devil and hell would certainly be lost on him. He can say the “Our Father” prayer when prompted, never mind the fact that his favorite part is “and deliver us from evil,” with an emphasis on EVIL. Is he evil? Am I raising the spawn of Satin? (which would make Tom or I Satan, I guess) So, I can only hope that this truly is just a phase and that he will find an outlet for his aggression that isn’t a person’s face or something breakable…or both and that we won’t be seeing his face on “America’s Most Wanted” 20 years from now.