The Go To Move

I suppose I should be happy. E has made this transition very well, much to my surprise. He had enough stuff to do on the planes, thanks to some great advice from friends with kids who had been on long flights before. Excepting one small meltdown in Tokyo when he saw a play area in the terminal but we had to get on our next flight he did great. He slept in the hotel with no problems. He then even transitioned to sleeping in our new apartment with little or no issues…..but then there was today.

 

We had been invited over to play at a friends place (yes we made made one set of friends so far) and everything seemed to be going well between Lilly and E. They painted and played with Play-Doh. There was chasing and laughing. But then it happened. The cool toy. The destroyer of all inter-toddler peace treaties and non-aggression pacts. The brand new bright purple ride on tractor of doom! Much like Highlander, “There can be only one!”, rider. And so began the bargaining by we parents.

 

Me “Its Lilly’s turn you can have a turn when she’s done”

 

Lilly’s Dad “Don’t you want to share with your friends”

 

A shaky cease fire was reached when a Mickey Mouse ride on cart was produced from a closet. The children seemed to fall into a pattern of  gasp actually sharing and playing nicely……It was a ruse. A calm before the building storm of screaming and crying. Both the other dad and I turned our heads at the sudden shriek. Then as if in a slow motion seen from a bad movie I saw Lilly coming towards us holding her forearm. I knew it without asking the IT had happened. Emmet had broken out his go to move. He had taken poor Lilly’s alabaster chubby little arm and …left two perfect rows of teeth marks in it.

 

He hasn’t done it in almost a year. I though we were past it. But from as soon as teeth emerged until just after his second birthday its been his old faithful tactic. Grab on and chomp down. And technically it works. Whoever is bothering him tends to vacate his immediate area as soon as their flesh can be parted from his mouth. But it mortifies me. I know he’s only 3. I know a lot of kids do it. I also know that for the most part he’s a really good kid. He listens well he usually plays very well with other kids. He eats his vegetables ( as long as they are carrots). And he did sit in a timeout and contritely say sorry and administer the world recognized healing balm of the toddler, a hug and a high five. And while I was aghast at the bite I was happy he knew he had done wrong and apologized….WHY BITING? I would almost rather he was a hitter or kicker….or anything else-er. For some reason in my mind biting is worse. Oh well. He’ll outgrow it right? Or, This too shall pass. Or any of the other platitudes parents of older children or my mother ply me with when I’m having trouble dealing with parenthood.

 

We left shortly after the chomping. It seems Lilly hadn’t had a nap, E was getting hungry (it was almost dinner time) . And after a meal and a train ride home he was in much better spirits. We played with some of the kids in our apartment complex outside. He even asked for his shower and bedtime. Its almost as if he wanted to remind me he is an adorable, good boy 90% of the time.