I had big plans for Isaiah while he was home with me today.
I pictured the two of us working together in my office. I would work on my thesis; he would work on his preschool activity book. Both of us would be making educational magic side-by-side. The problem was, Isaiah wasn’t going for it. He wanted to play Minecraft on the iPad.
Isaiah is the youngest of four, so he is kind of used to getting his way. All five of us have been guilty of giving him what appeases him at the time so we can finish what we are doing. So when we are alone together, and he can’t have what he wants, he can be a little dramatic. Today, I was determined to be productive and screen free. He was not having that. He threw a big fit.
This tantrum was pretty dramatic. I decided that this day might go better if he had the illusion of control. As many of you know, he has an aversion to pooping on the toilet, which has prolonged his potty training from two weeks to two years. (Yes, you read that right–two incredibly long, frustrating years.) He never pooped in the toilet once until about a month ago, and since then he has decided that pooping on the potty is not for him. So, I told him, “I will give you the iPad if you poop on the toilet.”
Ha. I got him. I knew that there was almost no chance that he would follow through with that. First, he would have to have a need to go. Second, he would have to break his vow of never pooping in a convenient location ever. Isaiah knew it was a set up, too. He started crying and wandered off to cry alone.
About 15 minutes later, Isaiah came up to me. “Come here, mom!” I really didn’t want to go, but I figured that if I cooperated with him, maybe he’d cooperate with me.
He grabbed my hand with his little hand and led me into the bathroom. “See!” he yelled, pointing in the toilet. He jumped up and down with excitement.
I peered in the toilet, only to find a turd in it. You’ve gotta be kidding me. I couldn’t believe it. I even had to check to make sure it didn’t look like he was sneaky and pulled it out of his underwear. Nope, it was totally legit. I felt a tug on my leg.
“Here, Mom!” Isaiah handed me the iPad. I reluctantly typed in the code to open it and handed it back. Now he’s cuddled up with the iPad on the couch.
Well played, Isaiah. Well played.