<![CDATA[So-So Mom - Blog]]>Tue, 30 May 2017 10:30:50 -0600Weebly<![CDATA[That Kid Who INSISTS Mom Is Buying What He Wants]]>Mon, 17 Apr 2017 16:35:14 GMThttp://sosomom.com/blog/that-kid-who-insists-mom-is-buying-what-he-wants​I do not recall how it came about that my daughter had absolutely no tennis shoes that could be stuffed onto her feet even for a one hour t-ball practice, but it happened.  I had no choice but to take all four kids aged six months to eight years to the local over-priced department store to buy shoes for a 6-year-old girl whose first t-ball practice started in about an hour.
Side note:  While I would not think twice about taking four kids somewhere alone now, at the time I normally ran errands while the oldest was at school.  When I was days away from delivering the baby who was six months old at the time of this incident, I had brought him along to the grocery store explaining that mommy really needed his big muscles to put all the groceries in the car because she was so tired from being pregnant.  That part worked great, but he also rammed the cart into a three-tiered stand of candy bars so hard it sent them flying 20-plus feet down the aisle.  I also told the store worker not to help him pick them up, possibly in a satan voice.  Needless to say, I avoided taking him too many places after that.
I do not recall a whole lot about the tennis shoe buying other than I was already hot and frazzled by whatever was going on and it was taking too long.  Throughout the picking out and trying on, my older son was repeatedly asking for a pair of Crocs.  I repeatedly told him I was not buying them.  He refused to put them back on the shelf and insisted more loudly that he was going to get them. 
As we boxed up our pick and headed to the check-out register with the sales clerk, I sternly informed him that I would NOT be buying the Crocs and he needed to put them down NOW!  My son looked me straight in the eye from several feet away and ripped the price tag from the Crocs, proclaiming, “Now you HAVE to buy them!”
I am not proud of the scene that ensued.  Remember this was a decent-sized eight-year-old, not an easily man-handled toddler, I was dealing with.  I handed the baby to the six-year-old who was really not big enough to properly hold a wiggly 6-month-old and then I chased him down through the store.  I am guessing that to the soft-spoken sales clerk, I looked like a lioness pouncing on a fleeing gazelle when I caught up to him.  I know I felt like one!  I wrestled him to the ground and pinned him under a knee as I needed both hands to release the death grip he had on the pair of Crocs.  I put the tag into the toe of the Crocs and sat them on the counter, mumbled an apology about the tag and reiterated that we would not be buying them, and took the baby back from my struggling daughter all while keeping a death grip of my own on my son’s wrist.  The woman behind the counter offered me no consolation.  She just stared at me completely aghast.  I stood there waiting for what seemed like eternity for her to ring up the shoes and run my credit card with a face so flaming hot from rage, embarrassment, and a poorly air-conditioned room that I think it could have actually started a fire with the right kindling.

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This is a series of stories about my oldest child.  During his early years, I spent my on-line time reviewing symptom checklists for a variety of behavioral disorders, and I was quite sure we would have to send him to military school one day.  I felt completely defeated by his behavior on many occasions.  I have long struggled to find the right way to share these stories on my blog.  I finally decided just to write them as they are, with no great revelation about their impact.  (Though a couple do include a follow-up disciplinary technique that worked!)  My purpose in sharing these stories is three-fold.  I hope to provide a good laugh, to give a thank-goodness-its-not-just-my-kid OR an at-least-my-kid-hasn’t-done-that feeling, and also to instill hope that your ‘that’ kid can turn out to be as amazing as mine someday.  He still drives me somewhat crazy, but at 18 he is a great person with a bright future (and was not sent to military school)!  Some personality traits that are horrific in a young child are pretty dang awesome in a teen ready to head out into the world.
Days later I wondered what I could have done differently and decided I should have called his bluff and done nothing.  He was old enough to understand stealing.  I should have bought the tennis shoes and walked out the door and then dealt with it if that didn’t work. 
Sometime later the opportunity arose at another check-out stand to give the new tactic a try.  He insisted I was going to buy him candy and told me I better pay for it because he was taking it.  I calmly informed him that leaving with the candy would be stealing because I was not going to pay for it.  I told him the girl behind the counter would call the police if he left with it and we would be waiting in the parking lot when they arrived.  I still feel bad for that poor girl.  She looked like a deer in the headlights contemplating having to call the police on this little boy.  Luckily for the both of us, he didn’t take it that far.  He stomped and yelled, but he put the candy back on the shelf.  
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<![CDATA[That Kid Who Cannot, Under Any Circumstances, Chew Gum]]>Mon, 17 Apr 2017 16:32:57 GMThttp://sosomom.com/blog/that-kid-who-cannot-under-any-circumstances-chew-gum
​The summer before my oldest began kindergarten we were working on building our house which is miles from town.  We were in a rush one day, hurrying back for a t-ball game.  I don’t remember where he got it, but he had gum in his mouth, and I could see him playing with it in the rear-view mirror.  I told him to stop and keep it in his mouth, but I didn’t have time to mess with pulling over and taking it, so I just continued to nag.  Pretty soon I glanced up, and he had a very long string of gum coming from his mouth to his hand.  He caught me looking at him and with his special look that I have come to call his ‘HA-HA-Look-what-I’m-gonna-do-now’ look, he wrapped the string of gum around his head.  It was long enough to string around about three times.  He patted it hard into his hair all over and just grinned as I sat helplessly in the front seat.
When we got home, I jumped in the shower immediately, trying to hurry as much as possible since I still had to try to get gum out of his hair.  When I emerged, I found him with scissors in hand.  He had tried to ‘help’ by cutting the gum out of his hair.  It appeared he mostly only cut the hair and missed all the parts containing gum.  There were random chunks of gum mixed in with nearly bald spots all over his head.  It was too late to do anything about it.  I sometimes wish smart phones and constant picture taking had been a thing back then so I would have the photographic memories of this type of event. Of course, there was nothing hilarious about it at the time, so maybe I would have been too mortified to take a picture anyway.  I put a hat on him and told him not to take it off, even to bat, just put the helmet over it.  We headed off to t-ball and shaved his whole head that night.
After that, he was never allowed to have gum.  EVER.





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This is a series of stories about my oldest child.  During his early years, I spent my on-line time reviewing symptom checklists for a variety of behavioral disorders, and I was quite sure we would have to send him to military school one day.  I felt completely defeated by his behavior on many occasions.  I have long struggled to find the right way to share these stories on my blog.  I finally decided just to write them as they are, with no great revelation about their impact.  (Though a couple do include a follow-up disciplinary technique that worked!)  My purpose in sharing these stories is three-fold.  I hope to provide a good laugh, to give a thank-goodness-its-not-just-my-kid OR an at-least-my-kid-hasn’t-done-that feeling, and also to instill hope that your ‘that’ kid can turn out to be as amazing as mine someday.  He still drives me somewhat crazy, but at 18 he is a great person with a bright future (and was not sent to military school)!  Some personality traits that are horrific in a young child are pretty dang awesome in a teen ready to head out into the world.
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​ Then, when he was in kindergarten, another mom brought some for a party game.
I was completely unaware up until this point that most kindergartners could handle chewing gum without a problem.  I assumed that they were all as much a menace to society with it as my own and was sure this woman who brought in 20 pieces of gum had lost her mind!  I jumped in, desperately attempting to assuage the bloodbath of stickiness that was sure to ensue.
“You must keep your gum IN your mouth everyone!  If you don’t, you will have to spit it in the trash,” I warned, feeling all superior to this silly woman who brought gum for a bunch of six-year-olds. 
Well, prepare to see me humbled!
 Not one child removed gum from his or her mouth.  Not one, except for mine.  And yeah, I picked that battle.  I told him he did not get to play anymore because he was making a mess with his gum and had to throw it away.  Of course, he ignored me, walked away and then looked back at me while stringing it out of his mouth again.  I tried to grab for it a couple of times, and he continued to taunt me with it.  I did not want to make a scene, but for some reason, I felt the need to save face and win, so I pretended to let it go and casually got close enough to him, pried open his jaw, and snatched the gum from his mouth, nearly losing a finger in the process.  I was on the school’s sub list at the time, and his teacher later said she had been thinking about asking me to sub, but after the party thought maybe that wouldn’t be best.  Yeah, no kidding lady.  But hey, at least we didn’t have to shave his head at the end of the day! 
A few years ago, I subbed frequently for a preschool class with a very sweet little boy who displayed a much different personality when his mom showed up for a party.  I just wanted to go hug her and say, “I am so glad to find someone else whose kid turns into a hideous beast when she shows up!”
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<![CDATA[That Kid Who Starts RIOTS At Preschool]]>Mon, 17 Apr 2017 16:15:28 GMThttp://sosomom.com/blog/that-kid-who-starts-riots-at-preschool​At my son’s first parent teacher conference for preschool, I sat ‘proudly?’ listening to how well my son was doing academically speaking.  He could read so much better than the other children that he refused to listen to any of them read and rode the trike instead.  He could answer questions about stories at an ‘excellent’ level despite listening to them at a ‘needs improvement’ level because he was always rolling around all over the room and messing with toys while stories were being read.
And then his teacher shared that he had recently started chanting, “We want re-cess, we want re-cess,” over and over during circle time.  Soon, all the other children joined in, and they all sat chanting ‘we want recess’ at the teachers.  Next, she explained, my child started wildly running all around the room, and most of the other kids followed suit. 
He has leadership skills.
The next year, a mom from the younger class of preschoolers apprehensively approached me saying she had been debating on whether or not she should tell me something.  I convinced her I wanted to know and she told me that when she had been putting up her child’s student of the week board, she had heard my son start chanting “No, we’re not.  No, we’re not,” when the teacher asked if they were ready to listen.  Eventually, all the children had joined in the chant.  I was never told about any other incidents by the teachers, but I have always wondered how often it happened.
In the two years his class was there, three teachers quit.


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This is a series of stories about my oldest child.  During his early years, I spent my on-line time reviewing symptom checklists for a variety of behavioral disorders, and I was quite sure we would have to send him to military school one day.  I felt completely defeated by his behavior on many occasions.  I have long struggled to find the right way to share these stories on my blog.  I finally decided just to write them as they are, with no great revelation about their impact.  (Though a couple do include a follow-up disciplinary technique that worked!)  My purpose in sharing these stories is three-fold.  I hope to provide a good laugh, to give a thank-goodness-its-not-just-my-kid OR an at-least-my-kid-hasn’t-done-that feeling, and also to instill hope that your ‘that’ kid can turn out to be as amazing as mine someday.  He still drives me somewhat crazy, but at 18 he is a great person with a bright future (and was not sent to military school)!  Some personality traits that are horrific in a young child are pretty dang awesome in a teen ready to head out into the world.
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<![CDATA[That Kid Who DEMANDS Attention Every Second of Every Day]]>Fri, 31 Mar 2017 16:05:52 GMThttp://sosomom.com/blog/that-kid-who-demands-attention-every-second-of-every-day​You know those kids who talk and talk to any grown-up that will listen?  We all feel so sorry for them and assume that they get no attention at home from their parents.  Well, my oldest son proved this is not always the case.  He got more attention from adults at home than most kids because we spent some of his earliest years living with grandparents.  I don’t know if it is due to this, or simply an inborn personality trait, but he demanded attention ALL. THE. TIME. 
He always hated it when I would sew because it took more of my concentration than most household duties so I could not interact with him as much.  He would run by and pull on the fabric or try to steal my scissors.  Finally, one day he won. I quit sewing for quite a while after he grabbed the pin cushion and ran all through the house throwing out pins behind him laughing maniacally.  I combed the carpet for more pins for an hour!

Another thing he hated, was when I tried to watch TV while folding laundry.  He constantly turned off the television and tried to swipe piles of folded laundry onto the floor.  From the time he was about three until he went to Kindergarten I was turning the TV back on and carefully protecting folded piles from him.  Just a couple years ago, two of my younger children destroyed all the neatly folded piles of clothes on the couch by pretending it was a pile of leaves to jump into.  I started to lose it and then suddenly remembered how I used to have to refold some things every single week!  

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Church had always been my son’s least favorite place to be, and we spent many services in the cry room.  I eventually realized that getting to go to the cry room was his objective, even though I never played or let him get down from my lap while we were in there, and frequently spanked him as well.  So, I resolved to stop taking him in there when he was about four years old.  My husband and I agreed that he was getting well past the age that it should have been necessary.
He did NOT agree with us and suddenly made it his life’s mission to be removed from the sanctuary.
He would misbehave and give me a devilish look and whisper, “Aren’t you going to take me out?”
I would ignore him.
For the next year or so, he spent most Sundays at church intentionally drooling on my skirt, then outright spitting on me, and placing his teeth around my arm ever-so-gradually increasing the pressure until he was biting me.  He would also get ahold of a few strands of my hair and pull it slightly, then a bit harder and harder.  I would always be unable to completely ignore it at some point and have to grab his jaws or hand to make him stop, but I never took him out.  He never became loud, which would have forced me to take him out, but for some reason, he only did very quiet naughty things.
One evening after a particularly bad experience at church, (I’m sure you know evening church is ALWAYS worse no matter what kid), I asked him, “Why do you behave like that at church?”
 He incredulously responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You are both right there and won’t pay any attention to me!”
We, of course, explained the purpose of going to church and why we ‘ignored’ him there.  I will not claim this was magic cure moment, but after that talk, his behavior did improve slightly during church.
This is a series of stories about my oldest child.  During his early years, I spent my on-line time reviewing symptom checklists for a variety of behavioral disorders, and I was quite sure we would have to send him to military school one day.  I was completely defeated by his behavior on many occasions.  I have long struggled to find the right way to share these stories on my blog.  I finally decided just to write them as they are, with no great revelation about their impact.  (Though a couple do include a follow-up disciplinary technique that worked!)  My purpose in sharing these stories is three-fold.  I hope to provide a good laugh, to give a thank-goodness-its-not-just-my-kid OR an at-least-my-kid-hasn’t-done-that feeling, and also to instill hope that your ‘that’ kid can turn out to be as amazing as mine someday.  He still drives me somewhat crazy, but at 18 he is a great person with a bright future (and was not sent to military school)!  Some personality traits that are horrific in a young child are pretty dang awesome in a teen ready to head out into the world.
Want to Read More Posts in this Series?
That Kid Who HATES Shots
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<![CDATA[That Kid Who HATES Shots]]>Mon, 27 Mar 2017 00:16:18 GMThttp://sosomom.com/blog/that-kid-who-hates-shots​When it was time for my son to get his immunizations for Kindergarten, I was a little concerned as his last couple flu shots had upset him quite a lot, but his dad had been present to help for those and could not join us that day.  We arrived at the nurse’s office to get the shots and he paced around anxiously as I filled out the papers and refused to go to the play area with his little sister. 
And then he suddenly bolted right out the door into the parking lot.  I looked at the door; I looked at my girls; I looked at the receptionist in a complete panic.  “Just go,” she said, “I’ll watch them.”  So, I bolted out the door leaving my baby in her carrier and my toddler in the play area. 
​He disappeared around the corner of the building just as I emerged.  I ran after him, completing two entire laps around the building before deciding he was too far ahead and I was too out of shape for me to ever catch up.  After he rounded the corner again, I reversed directions and hid against the corner on the opposite side.  I leaped out just as he was about to round the corner and was able to snatch him.  I dragged him kicking and screaming back into the office.

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​This is a series of stories about my oldest child.  During his early years, I spent my on-line time reviewing symptom checklists for a variety of behavioral disorders, and I was quite sure we would have to send him to military school one day.  I was completely defeated by his behavior on many occasions.  I have long struggled to find the right way to share these stories on my blog.  I finally decided just to write them as they are, with no great revelation about their impact.  (Though a couple do include a follow-up disciplinary technique that worked!)  My purpose in sharing these stories is three-fold.  I hope to provide a good laugh, to give a thank-goodness-its-not-just-my-kid OR an at-least-my-kid-hasn’t-done-that feeling, and also to instill hope that your ‘that’ kid can turn out to be as amazing as mine someday.  He still drives me somewhat crazy, but at 18 he is a great person with a bright future (and was not sent to military school)!  Some personality traits that are horrific in a young child are pretty dang awesome in a teen ready to head out into the world.
Once we got inside, a wide-eyed woman took us directly back to a room as the receptionist continued to watch my girls.  A nurse came in, quickly saw the situation was dire, and called next door for help.  It took me and two other women to hold him down while another administered the shots.  We all let go when she finished. 
But he was not relieved it was over in the least.  He was enraged.  He kicked a box of toys, scattering them about the room, and then grabbed a chair by it arms and hurled it into the wall screaming, “I hate this place!”  He then pointed up at each and every one of the four of us, all standing astonished with mouths agape, and screamed, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, and I hate you!” I attempted to straighten the room while the ladies assured me they would do it themselves.  I am certain they just wanted us to leave!
When I returned a couple years later with his little sister for her shots, the same nurse came in and smiled.  “I saw your last name on the schedule yesterday and thought about calling in sick this morning,” she said, “but then I realized it surely had to be a different kid.”

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​When he was 8, I got a terrible case of strep throat and the doctor suggested I bring in all the kids to get cultured in case they had it too.  He did not want one.  When it was his turn, he refused to sit in the chair or open his mouth.  Don't forget he was EIGHT in the story!  Restraining a child this size is no easy task, but I managed to pull him down into the chair on my lap and hold onto his arms, despite his aggressive thrashing.  He proceeded to kick the nurse in the shins as she approached with the tongue depressor.  In an attempt to save this poor woman from a leg full of bruises, I wrapped each of my legs around each of his to trap them, and she forged on.  She pinched his nose to get him to open his mouth and put in the tongue depressor.  He gasped for air once and clamped his mouth shut again with the depressor still inside.  He bit it clean in half and spewed it into her face.  At this point, she called for reinforcements and the x-ray technician came to pinch his nose with one hand and pry his jaw with the other, so the nurse was finally able to take the throat culture.  Apparently, he had matured beyond the point of screaming, “I hate you,” because he just stormed out the back door once we let go.

Two miracles happened that day:  1.  The glass door did not shatter as he left and hit it hard enough that it easily could have.  2.  He was the ONLY strep-free child, so he did not have to come back for a follow-up culture after the antibiotics.

Did you miss the first two installments of this series?  Click links below.
That Kid Who Will NOT Leave the Park
That Kid Who STILL Bites
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