Sometimes you can't win

Yesterday evening, while I was running a couple of errands, Jeff called to tell me that Biscuit had done his business in the potty.

This was big news.

We've been encouraging potty training, but Biscuit just hasn't seemed that interested in it. Jeff and I are on the same page about the whole thing, which is good. We want to encourage Biscuit, but we don't want to nag and push him into doing anything he isn't ready to do. Our philosophy is that it'll happen when the timing is right.

Anyway, when Jeff called, he asked if I would pick up a little prize for Biscuit's accomplishment, and I told him I would. 

Our son loves flashlights (or as he calls them "fash-wights") and for $3, I bought him a Spider-Man flashlight that I knew he would love.

I brought it home and handed the bag to Jeff. He loaded up the batteries, made a big fuss to Biscuit, telling him how proud he was about his bathroom accomplishment, then gave Biscuit the flashlight.

Biscuit was thrilled.

About 5 minutes after the grand presentation, the flashlight stopped working. Jeff checked it out and realized that the bulb had blown. And to make matters worse, they had glued shut the plastic housing where the bulb was. There was no way to get that part of the light open without breaking the plastic.

We explained to Biscuit that the light was broken and that we would get him a replacement. In the meantime, I got out a small flashlight I keep in the kitchen and gave it to Biscuit.

"Until we get your flashlight replaced, you can play with my flashlight, okay, Biscuit?" I said to him as I handed him the light.

Apparently, my flashlight was not satisfactory. When I handed it to him, he threw it on the floor.

"No! I don't want THAT fash-wight," Biscuit said.

I explained to Biscuit in no uncertain terms that we do not throw things and that we take care of our things and if he couldn't abide by those two rules, he wouldn't get to play with any of his things anymore.

For some reason, he didn't like hearing any of that.

I told Biscuit to pick up the flashlight and bring it to me. He plopped down on the floor, reached over and gave the flashlight a shove on the floor. It rolled over a few times and stopped about a foot away from Biscuit.

He KNEW that I wasn't happy because he wouldn't look at me. With his head still lowered, he cut his eyes up at me just long enough to see that I was staring at him with no expression on my face.

"Pick up the flashlight and bring it to me ... now," I said.

He brought the light over and handed it to me. Then just to improve his situation, he said, "I'm sorry, Mom" and hugged my leg. I looked over at Jeff and rolled my eyes. This child is 2 years old, and he's trying to play me.

A little while later, I was changing Biscuit into his pajamas. He was standing on my bed as I was adjusting his pants, and he said, "Mom, are you angry?" 

What a horrible question. Of COURSE I was angry. I was fuming. I was so mad and felt cheated that the stupid light I bought him as a reward broke after 5 minutes. I was frustrated with how Biscuit had acted when I gave him the substitute flashlight. I was steaming over the fact that something that should have been so simple had become so complicated.

"No. I'm not angry," I said to Biscuit. "I'm very proud of you for using the potty."

"Thanks, Mom," Biscuit said. "I'm proud for you, too."

"Biscuit, I want you to remember that you have to take care of your toys," I said. "The only thing I want to see you throwing is a ball, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

As I was setting Biscuit down off the bed, I realized his feet were cold, so I told him to run into the living room and sit with Jeff while I found his slippers. I grabbed his slippers out of the bathroom floor and headed toward the living room. I stopped at the edge of the dining room and pitched Biscuit's slippers over to the couch where he and Jeff were sitting. I knew as soon as those slippers left my hands what I had just done.

"MOM! You DON'T throw things, Mom. Do you hear me? You DON'T throw things," Biscuit said. I think he even had his teeth clenched when he said it.

Well, at least he heard what I was trying to say.