Sometimes I Just Wanna Smack That Kid

I love my son. 3 days ago, he excitedly told me loves "all my (his) friends." 2 days ago, he called me "the sweetest momma in the world." Yesterday, he spat in my face. Now, I'm a pacifist; I don't believe that hitting someone is going to get me anywhere I want to go. However, as I wiped the spit from my eyes with one hand, I could feel the other hand itching. I could practically see it slapping his almost-4-year-old face. But it didn't. I didn't. I sure as hell wanted to, but instead I picked him up, walked out of Starbucks, loaded him back in the carseat and told him that I was too angry to talk to him and that he would be out of time out when I had calmed down.

I could see how we got to that point. We had been camping. He hadn't had enough sleep for three nights in a row, and here I was asking him to stand patiently and not touch all the enticing, dazzlingly packaged things right at his eye level, all because Momma was tired too and wanted a chai latte. At that particular moment, I was asking for more than he had to give, and he was trying to exert some influence in a situation where he was not given any choice. It seems that spitting is his latest method of pushing Momma's buttons and trying to gain some power. I get it. I don't have to like it, but I get it.

Some people feel that spanking is okay. A friend argued with me that kids fear spanking, and fear breeds respect. I don't buy it. Fear breeds quiet resentment; respect breeds respect. Not to mention the fact that it looks like my son will take after his 6'5" father, and fear would only work for me for so long. I can't say that I've never hit him, though. Months ago, I had put him in time out for hitting me. If I walked away, he would grab random things and start throwing. If I got too close, he would hit me again. I grabbed his hand, and with two fingers slapped the back of his wrist as I said "No more hitting!" I could feel the hypocrisy dripping from the words as they came out of my mouth. That's not the parent that I want to be. Instead I pin him down, explaining that I won't let him hurt me or destroy my house. I figure as long as I stay relatively fit, I've got another 9 or 10 years before he's able to overpower me. Hopefully the lesson sinks in before then. Do boys use more physical aggression than girls? I don't know. All I know is that I've taken a poll of my friends who have daughters, and none of them felt the need to institute a "no head butts" rule in their house.

I don't want to give you a too negative picture of my son; he really is a sweet boy. He prides himself on being a "great helper," loves to dance and sing, calls our German Shepherd his "fluffy good girl" and loves other kids, big and small. Really, he saves all this stellar behaviour for me, because he knows, no matter what, I'm not going anywhere. I prefer it that way. I'd rather he not be super sweet to me and an ass to the rest of the world. And I know we'll grow out of this phase, just like we did the last one. I also know that when we reach the teenage years, I'll be extra glad that he's not a girl.