"I'm not going to school!!!!" he shrieked at me this morning. This after he had snuggled with me and smothered me with kisses.
"You're the best mommy ever!" he had informed me.
But then it came time to get ready for school, and things changed. He changed.
"If you make me go to school, I'm not going to listen!!!" he warned me. Ya, ya, kid... we've been through this before.
"That's fine," I told him. "But I still have to take you to school or I get in big trouble. Whether you listen is your decision."
His tirade of abuse continued in the van on the way to drop off Stitch at daycare. Bear's school is normally my first stop, but something told me that might not be a wise decision this morning. Glad I listened to my instincts.
When we arrived at Bear's school, he was out of his seat belt and in the back of the van before I had even turned off the radio. I've learned from previous experience to stow our "stow-n-go" seats when he's in this kind of mood. It makes it easier to crawl in the back of the van and drag him out. If I don't he hops over the seats and then back over them as I run around the van like a fool. Today he pulled a new trick, though, and scooted to the front of the van, hopping out one of the doors before I could grab him. I have to say I'm surprised it's taken him this long to think of that.
Off he trotted to the front doors with me trailing behind, thinking that perhaps this was going to go better than anticipated. Wow...I couldn't have been more wrong.
As soon as we were inside the doors, Bear let loose. He started kicking the metal window frames of the entrance way, which reverberated loudly. The school secretaries can now tell at a glance what kind of morning Bear and I have had, so one of them dashed for the teacher who works with him. Bear adores her, but this morning he lashed out at her as well, calling her names and kicking at her. Another teacher who works with him was drawn by the commotion, and between them they wrestled him away. Actually, they carried him, but that's nothing new.
Twenty minutes later the phone rang at home. Bear had thrown two chairs, hurled Lego around the room, and spit on the floor. Both teachers were still with him and it wasn't going well. Could I come get him?
Back at school, I crouched down to talk to Bear, who was hiding out under a counter. I held my hand out to him and reassured him that he was OK, that Mommy was here and we'd help him calm down. He took my hand and crept out.
"I told you I'd do this," he reminded me as he glowered at me, "and it worked."
Well, can't say he didn't warn me.