If your not going to say anything nice...

Little Blue had a good day at daycare...until Blue showed up. LB had apparently been slowly drinking some cranberry juice, and after five minutes of waiting him to down the last bit (and him test my patience by taking a couple drops), both the daycare provider and I said enough was enough and for him to take the cup into the kitchen. He did, but when I picked him up to put him in a chair to put his shoes on...he did what a lot of kids do his age when he doesn't get his way.

He went lip and made him feel like he weighed a ton. Some lessons are learned by tough love, so I made sure his knees were on the ground and did a controlled fall so he tapped his head on the floor.

He had the "I can't believe you dropped me!" look on his face, so I counted with, "Bub, you okay? Did you fall down?"

"Yeah Daddy."

"Were you trying to get out of Daddy's hands?"

No Comment. I put him in the chair and get his shoes on. He gives the daycare provider a hug and peck on the cheek and he leads me out of the door. "I do it! I open the door!"

I sighed, it was only going to get worse.

LB followed our routine of walking down to the edge of the driveway before walking through the lawn to the car. I head to open the car door so he gets in and he wanders off to find the "circle" (aka, the water meter cover). He finds it, tells me about it, and as he heads to me into the car..

"Daddy, I dont like you anymore."

I sigh again as I buckle him in. At this stage I ignore his comments because it isn't a good time to discuss it while I'm getting him to dance to get his seatbelt on. Naturally he assumed I didn't hear him and repeats himself several times.

We get going and he hadn't repeated it since we got moving, but when it came to turning one direction or another, I geta "Daddy! I wanted to go that way! Not this wayyyyyyy!"

"Little Blue" I say in a forceful tone.

Sheepishly, "Yeah?"

"Do you remember the way home?"

"No Daddy."

"Does the person driving the car know how to get where were going?" (Pink and I both have this discussion with him on occasion)

"Yeah Daddy."

"So we're going to go under the bridge, get on the highway, and go home, okay?"

*mumbling in the back seat, with the word hate tossed in somewhere*

I summon my 'You'd better fear the wrath of Dad' voice, "WHAT did you just say?"

"I hate you Daddy."

"Why."

"I don't know Daddy."

"What did Daddy do to make you mad?"

"I don't know?"

"Did Daddy do something to make you angy?"

"No Daddy."

"Then why do you hate me?"

"I don't know."

"When you say you hate someone, you need to have a reason and tell Mom and Dad, okay?"

"Yes Daddy. Okay."

*silence for a couple minutes*

Some quiet humming comes from the background...then a full blown song, "I hate Daddy...Daddy isn't nice, the big truck hates Daddy, Daddy is mean!"

"[Insert LB's first and last name here], if you don't have anything nice to say, you don't need to say anything at ALL."

Silence...then *sniffle*...*sniffle*...*sniffle*

"Daddy, you almost made me cry."

"What did I do to make you cry?"

"You told me to be quiet."

"Were you saying mean things?"

"Yes."

"It's not nice to say mean things, sing mean things, or yell mean things. If you sad, we can talk about it. If your angy, you can tell Daddy."

"You almost made me cry."

"Were you saying mean things to Daddy?" Halfway through saying this, I realized I phrased the question wrong.

"No."

"Were you sining mean things about Daddy?"

"Yeah."

"Is being mean nice?"

"No Daddy."

"Are you going to say mean things about Daddy?"

"No Daddy."

Time to reinforce. "What happens when you say mean things?"

"I'm a bad boy."

"And where do bad boys go?"

"Timeout?"

"That's right."

"Then can I be a good boy?"

"If you're a good boy, you NEVER have to go into timeout, okay?"

"Sounds good Daddy!"

"Are we buds?"

"Yeah Daddy! Yeah! Say yay!"

"Whoopideedoo!"

"NO Daddy! Say Yay!"

"Yay!"

I reach back and shake hands with LB, and he gives me a good squeeze and a firm shake.

What's the next thing we did? I pulled into Costco to get some gas and we made faces at each other through the window.

Little Blue, First Blood: Part I

Yup, LB's been watching a bit too much of Rambo.

Seriously though, Little Blue was involved in a little fuss at daycare. Our daycare provider had a family event they needed to attend, so the daughter of the daycare provider was on hand to cover while she was out. Daughter has a son about the age of 5 or 6, and in toddler terms, but since he was a visitor, and LB is used to being the Alpha Male at daycare...I have a feeling there was some toddler testosterone flowing around.

Apparently, how it went down based on who tells the story and how it happened the basics where this:

1. Boys play. Boys can play kinda rough.
2. Both boys are used to being lord of the male toddler domain. Thus, when the territory is shared, a potential conflict may arise.
3. Play escalated, and toys began to fly.
4. LB's knack for hitting a baseball off the tee AND his dead aim in about 1 of 5 tosses was enough to seal the deal.
5. Some toy that LB threw landed right on the 5 year olds nose and the crimson began to flow.

Now, as in the news reports, the details vary, but anything from "it was a pretty bad bleed" to "wasn't more than a trickle" to "Mom probably over reacted" to "It's just wasn't LBs day to be a good boy" all come up.

In the end, as I usually am with all things, I don't care who started it, nor who was involved. All I really cared about was LB throwing toys AND throwing toys at other people. The next day when I dropped him off to daycare...

"LB, c'mere buddy, give me a hug and a kiss, we need to have a talk before I go play with books at the library."

*LB walks over, knowing he's probably going to get into a stern talking too, but knows with words like 'hug' and 'kiss,' it can't all be that bad*

*Picks up LB and prop him in my right arm* "Are you going to be a good boy today?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Going to eat your lunch good?" (LB would rather play than eat)

"Yes Daddy."

"Do we throw toys when we play?"

*LB looks down* "No Daddy."

"That's a good boy! What happens if you throw toys?"

"I don't know..."

"When we throw toys, can we hurt people?"

"Uh huh."

"Good man. If you throw toys, Daycare Provider is going to call Daddy at work. When she tells me that you've been throwing toys, I'm going to come here and give you a spanking, right?"

"No spankings Daddy!" *firm believer in the "less is more approach here"*

"I don't want to give you spankings either. You be a good boy and we'll go home and play after work, kay?"

"Okay!"

"Now, can you kiss my cheek?"

*LB kisses my right cheek*

"How about my left one."

*LB kiss*

"My right one?"

*kiss*

"My left one."

"No Daddy, no more kisses for you."

I chuckle. "All right, go be a good boy!" *sets LB down and he cruises in for some Dragon Tales*

Hard to believe I can have a conversation like that with the Little Man when he's just at the 2.5 year mark, ya know?

Daddy is Proud of me!

Last Thursday Mommie was grilling in the backyard and Daddie and I got to play bats with my neighbor friends Marco and Solana. I only had two bats, so we had to share.

Umm...sometimes...I don't like to share. But I shared that night. Bats are fun.

Took all the balls out of the bucket and threw them into the yard. Lots of balls a neat. Then I tried to put the balls on the stick thing at hit the ball, but I kept hitting the stick.

I was mad. REAL mad. Daddy help me do something called "center" up, and I remembered how to hold the bat and spread my feet, and Daddy helped me turn sideways so I can hit the ball.

Daddy cheered me when I got a couple good hits, but Marco and Solana wanted to play too. Daddy told us to each get a ball and take turns with the bat. Daddy then took turns throwing the ball to us. Solana almost hit one, Marco never did hit one, but I hit two! Two Daddy!

One almost hit Daddy, and he quickly crossed his arms in front of his shorts...I don't know why Daddy doesn't want the ball to hit his shorts.

We also went to a parade! I got to sit on a policeman's motorcycle! And I saw fire engines, tractors, a car that looked like a train, pretty horses, old guys in little cars, and clowns. I got some candy and a ball! When we were ready to leave, the boys and girls next to me had an extra ball, so I got two balls! Daddy had to run down the street when I dropped one. It was funny.

Sunday after my nap, I made Mommy and Daddy laugh hard. Daddy was finishing a couple paragraphs of a book and I said, "Look, my butt crack is don the floor." I don't know why it was so funny, I had to go potty and couldn't get through the door.