(With updates at bottom)
Tuesday.
Running late for school run, I turn on BBC’s CBeebies for the 15 minutes before it’s time to leave, while I get dressed.
Me: Ok, time to put on your school uniform, we have to leave now.
Rockstar: No! My. Show. Is. Not. Finished!
Me: (Not too fussed, it’s like, a 5 minute show tops) Fine……….. OK now get dressed.
Rockstar: No! My. (Next) Show. Is. Not. Finished!
I switch off the tv.
Rockstar bursts into tears of rage.
After he sobs for like, a minute
Me: Ok, you ready now? No? Mummy’s going to pack her bag and put on her shoes. If you can’t calm down by the time I’m ready to leave, I’m leaving anyway because you have school, I have an appointment – in fact, in your school. It’s mummy’s volunteer slot today. You miss the ride to school you can sit in front of the tv alone all you want, I still have stuff to do at school today so I’ll go without you.”
(Because I know he prefers school to tv, he’s fighting getting dressed, not going to school).
As I open the door to leave, Rockstar walks over and we get him in his school uniform.
Rockstar: Can I skate down?
Me: Sorry darling, but no, you used the time up on your tantrum so we won’t have time to put on your skates before the car leaves. You can skate all you want tomorrow.
Wednesday.
(Kings comes into bedroom after coming home from work, having passed Rockstar in living room)
Kings: How come when I asked him if he napped today Rockstar said he slept “from 3.30-5.30pm”? Does he usually do that?
Me (To Rockstar): Did you just tell Daddy you were sleeping from 3.30-5.30?
Rockstar: Yes.
Me: Why did you tell daddy that??
Rockstar (patiently): Be-cause, Ms C comes to teach me Chinese at 3.30-5.30.
(Uh, yeah. I know. Also, Kings was on the receiving end for that one, not me, because Kings is the one who pays a lot more attention to his Putonghua, since mine is almost non-existent)
Thursday:
Running late for school run again, I consider switching on Cbeebies.
Me: If I switch on the tv for a few minutes, do you promise to let me switch it off when it’s time for you to get dressed?
Rockstar: Yes.
When I emerge after changing for school run and lunch, Rockstar is nowhere near the tv. He’s helping himself to cereal. When I switch it off he doesn’t even look up.
Rockstar: I’m hungry. I think I want cereal.
He just ate almost an entire bowl of fried noodles, with a side of scrambled eggs and cheese. And had a full glass of chocolate milk to go with all that. How the hell can he be hungry??
But there he is, crunching cereal and looking up at me with wide, innocent eyes. Watching me.
I try to get him dressed.
Rockstar: No! My. Cereal. Is. Not. Finished!
I dress him anyway. It’s like pushing a flaming rag in a bottle of kerosene. He fights every step of the way, bawling in rage. Nor does he stop in the car. I usually “reason” with him when he pauses for breath, but this time it’s like trying to debate someone who is just GABBLING to drown you out.
I seriously consider turning the car around. Because it kinda looks (to me, not anyone else) like I got him started and then farmed him off, frothing at the mouth, onto a school and bunch of other unsuspecting kids who showed up to learn and well, not go nuts. (Different, in my eyes, from say, him not wanting to go to school. In which case yeah, he’s gotta go. But the fights are because he’s mad about being interrupted to change his clothes when he’s “busy”.)
To the background of indignant, angrified gabbling, I start going over the morning. There is a clock on the wall right in front of where Rockstar sits (one of my erm, subtle efforts to start him telling time, there is one in the bathroom too – not just 5 o’clock, 6 o’clock, but quarter past, quarter to, half past and so on.) I don’t think all the positions of the minute hand have stuck, it’s not like he can tell me it’s “5 past noon” but he can probably recognize the different positions. I’ve been pointing out the absolute latest time we can leave home, before we end up “late for school.” They close the front door if we’re late, so if we’re cutting it close, Rockstar will go, “Did they close the door yet?” as we pull up.
Both Tuesday and today, despite the drama, we’re just barely cutting it. ie WAY not as late as I assumed, after getting bawled at on school run. Each time, I was too hassled to look at the clock in front of him as I rushed him out the door. Each time when we got there, the front door of the school was still open.
Could he…? Nooo. He can’t possibly be pushing my buttons for some measure of entertainment just to see what I’m going to do, can he? Or else I haven’t been around enough 3 year olds and this is common behavior and yes, he’s doing it without actually ending up late for school (which he loves).
Anyway. Next school run I’ll put him in his uniform gradually and when he’s not “busy”. We are not having another fight about whether we’re actually late, or whether he’s being bossed into a uniform.
But I guess that means he might end up attending school in a shirt with brunch spills. Ah well. Can’t have everything in this world.
“Rockstar….. Rock-star! If you’re in no condition to be left in school by the time we get there, we’re going home. I’ll drop you off and then mummy has a lunch appointment.”
He doesn’t stop.
Almost 20 long minutes in the car. I’m wondering if we should give up and turn back yet. But just in case, I keep going. Figure we’ll pull up at the school, and if he’s still going then we’ll leave. (Because if he can at all pull himself together, it’s going to be so he can get to go to school).
As we make that last turn up the hill, he’s abruptly quiet. Has a cuddle. Then bloody gets out like nothing happened, walks up the hill and 2 flights of stairs, even greeting school staff at the door with a “Hello” along the way.
!!! BLOODY HELLL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The other two days weren’t too bad, but this last is like something out of Exorcist.
Thank God It’s Friday.
Without engaging in a fight over whether we’re really late and gradually getting him dressed over the course of the morning as he finishes jigsaws, brunch and so on, Rockstar attended school on Friday in high spirits.
And thank you to the mum who wrote in to remind me Rockstar can be late on occasion, he can walk in thru the back door if the front door is closed, the bus children probably come in later than that – and her son sometimes fights getting dressed too.
<Hugs> Thanks.
I also got another emailed suggestion about making dressing a game – using a timer or even mobile phone. This might be especially helpful since Rockstar likes numbers and we can have more conversations about telling time! Thanks again!!
