Making Choices

Big one? Little one? Can I have both?

I taught my son a lesson in choices today. I felt mean and petty. It is so easy to please him. But I see it as my job to make him strong. Even at the age of not-even-two.

This morning we were making breakfast for kindie as normal. He has three lunch boxes. One with a piranha, one with a racing car and one with a crab. I havn't figured out which one he likes the best, but this particular morning it was all about the crab.

So we filled it with a prim (spreadable brown cheese) sandwich, a banana and apple wedges. He took the box by the handle and was on the way to the door when he decided that he did not want the crab one, he wanted the fish one. I explained that we already were using the crab one. He decided to have good cry about it.

Bracing myself I explained again. He tried to ask for the car box. Thinking it would make a difference in Mammas decision.

It did not.

He commenced to roll about on the floor. Throwing a great tantrum. A wobbler if you like. Something his Mamma was (and occasionally still is) very good at.

But being a tantrum gold medalist I also know that they are all about the drama, and not so much about the content. Needless to say, he forgot about the lunch box when, in my fretting to get everything ready for kindie, dropped a stone on the floor. Wobbler stopped immediately.

And started again when he decided he didn't want to wear the shoes he was wearing.

And the message. Life throws you difficult choices, but sometimes we just crave the drama. Need the drama. They are practice for when we really need to throw a real tantrum.

And that choices are never easy. However ridicuous they seem.