Being good means being very bad

Being a good parent means being the worst one ever in the eyes of my five-year-old. 

Today started out normal.  Littleman decked himself out in full "super spy" garb - goggles, cape, binoculars, and walkie talkies.  He was his sweet, creative, fun little self.  Then....dare I write it out for all to see? Well, a good chunk of my mommy friends were there to witness his heinous behavior so why not the world?

We met a whole bunch of friends at a new McDonald's at 10 to play.  Liam was fine.  Playing and whatnot.  Just as we grown ups got ready to purchase the whole lot of kids happy meals (super hero toy, by the way) a mother walks up to me and says, "Is this your son?"

FREEZE: Ridiculously, my honest first thought was, "Why yes, what adorable thing did he do that you want to come over and acknowledge?"  Ahhhh....I am SUCH a hopeless hoper.  Less than a second after that thought I sighed inwardly as I looked down at my beautiful boy whom I love so much.  Open fire, lady.

"He just spit in my daughter's face." I gasped.  Shocked, horrified, mortified, embarrassed, so, so utterly disappointed.  Really? Why Liam? Why?* 

I made him apologize, I gathered up Finn, said a quick good bye to my friends, amazingly snuck in a refill of diet coke, and dragged a hysterical, screaming Liam out to the car.  No happy meal.  No screaming (on my part). No discussion.  As we approached the car he screamed a litany of heartbreaking things that I will list below:

"I will never get in that car. I will never go anywhere with you again."

"You are the worst mommy in the whole world."

"I don't want to live with you anymore. I don't want to live."

"I don't want to want you anymore. I don't love you either. You are making this the worst day in the world."

"I want to go back to our old house and live there ALONE."

(Technically, all of those sentences should be written completely in CAPS because each of them was screamed at the top of his lungs, his face a shade of red tomatoes would envy and the vein on his neck looking like it was about to bust open and kill us both for sure.)

In addition to the verbal attack, he hit me a couple of times while I was strapping in Finn.  Not hard, more like frustrated swats...but still.  I felt assaulted. I wanted to cry.  I wanted to slap him.  I wanted to scream in his face to stop talking to me like that.  But, I didn't do any of those things.  I picked him up and forcibly buckled him in while he struggles (mostly just crying, though at this point) and said, "I love you and the things you are saying are making me very, very sad." 

I drove home, white knuckled, sucking on my diet coke and wishing being a good parent didn't have to feel so stinking bad.

*In case you were wondering why Liam spit at that girl his reply was, "She was nasty to me."  That's it. No details, nothing.  We had a chat about other ways to respond when someone is "nasty." Use words, move away from that person, come to mom....we'll see....

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