They're always learning; even in the midst of a tantrum (or three)

We're dealing with monster molars right now. That's right, tooth number seven is a molar. Combine monster molars with terrible twos (I have mentioned he's a precocious little twerp) and that spells monster menace.

Today in the grocery super-mega-mart he was being chauffeured around by his nearly 90-yr old Ouma while I whizzed around getting the groceries. When they caught me up, he didn't want to be in the push chair anymore. Fine, into the trolley, except when he started climbing out of the trolley, it was time to go back into the push chair, and that was a Big Problem. We had crawling away, we had unpacking saltine crackers, and then we had manhandling and a lot of yelling. (Though not by me.) I just uttered my mantra: "Sit down, Johnny..."

This happened three times: in the baking isle, at the check-out, and in the car. "Sit down, Johnny. Gentle touches with Mommy, Johnny." (As I retrieved my glasses off the floor.) "We don't hit Mommy, Johnny." I must say, I felt like a bit of an idiot, responding to beatings and yelling and an arched back with poise, grace, a firm but gentle restraint, and a calm explanation that we use gentle touches on people.

At bedtime I got the validation I needed for this seemingly idiotic tactic. As he lay there going over his new skills (including a solidifying of two-word sentences and I think a near launch of telegraphic sentences), he started chanting: " Sit -- down. Sit -- down. Sit -- down." And grinning from ear to ear. In the midst of the chaos and screaming and arched back, he learned something. I'm glad what he learned was not how to lose your temper.