It's been hard work in our neck of the woods these days. I don't know if David's bad mood and bad behavior are just the slow miserable recovery from his cold or if he's in the throws of the recalcitrant three's. It actually makes a difference because if he's just sick, I can be a bit more accommodating like last Friday when we skipped school and he did end up barfing later, but if he's testing I have to hang on by my fingernails. I'm used to 90% of my interactions with David being loving and companionable. The last week and a half has been the reverse.

There are a few signs that my hard work is paying off. It took an hour to get screaming, crying, resisting David to school today. This also involved throwing my sister's plans out of whack. But when I arrived to pick David up, he was cheerful. He had had a great day.

David: What number should I press?
Debby: 1,5 start.
David: I did it. I did what you told me.

He then held out his arms for a big hug.

This is because two days ago he refused to press the microwave numbers I told him to do, and I warned him that if he didn't listen to me, he would burn his dinner. Thus ensued the huge temper tantrum. It was so nice today to have him notice he was following my directions and be proud of himself.

how I manage:

I try not to back myself into a corner and say no or tell him I need to move unless I am ready to back that up.

I try not to get caught negotiating with someone obviously out-of-control and incapable of compromise. That just leads to more and more demands and no give on his part. It's like he forgot that I agreed to read him three stories IF he got in the car.

I try not to use nasty voice. I've been taking a lot of deep breaths and walking away.

I tell a lot of stories about George and Harold.

I try to offer things he likes before he asks for them.

I try not to bribe him with food.

I try not to threaten with dire punishments though I did tell him today that if he couldn't get out of the car and go into school (we had actually made it into the car, buckled in, and to school), he couldn't spend the night at Grandma's because I couldn't trust him to listen to her. It was a "consequences" threat, i.e. a punishment, but I also truly felt he could be a danger to himself and mom if he didn't get it together. At least a danger to everyone's mental health.

I tell stories of Rose's temper tantrums. They both love to hear about that.

I say I love you when you're happy. I love you when you're sad. I love you when you're a royal pain in the butt, or words to that effect.

What I need to do:

Reorganize my life to accommodate hour long temper tantrums. This is one of the reasons I quit work, so I wouldn't have to drag a kicking, screaming child into the car just so I wouldn't be late.