If you are keeping up with the site, all of these cutesy slide shows might lead you to believe that everything has been just wonderful with Sophie these days. Little do you know that behind the thin veil of cuteness portrayed in these little slide shows lies a face so dark and so disturbing that if it were written about often, you would probably stop visiting this site.
Sophie has been sick this week. No, it is nothing too serious – just bronchitis and a cold but this is enough to skew Sophie’s disposition and to make things almost unbearable. Ileana and I have been trading days off of work to stay home with her. My frustration with having to deal with a difficult (to put it lightly) child is only exacerbated by the frustration that I feel being home and NOT being able to work on the house.
I am sure by now you are saying to yourself, “boy, he’s being a little dramatic” or “he hasn’t seen anything until he is home sick with my kid”. Maybe those things are true but I’d like to describe my day the other day with Sophie and let you be the judge.
The morning starts when we have to wake Sophie up and get her to take her “med-sin” (yes, I do believe the implied meaning is completely intended in Sophie’s pronunciation of the word.). Getting Sophie up on a good day is tough. Trying to wake her to drink something she doesn’t want to drink is a nightmare: “no wanting daddy, want mommy”, daddy leaves and mommy comes in room, “no want my med-sin”, daddy comes into room to help, “leave me alone!!!” This is when Sophie kicks her nighttime entourage of 20 stuffed animals onto the floor and begins banging her feet against the end of her bed. Ileana and I both leave the room med-sin in hand. It is not until the third day that we think to mask the med-sin with a half-cup of strong Ovaltine and she relents. Today, two days later, even the Ovaltine became suspect.
The next chapter begins when, after she has been tricked to drink her med-sin and after she has something in her stomach, we try and change her diaper. On my two days home, I attempted this feat alone: “no want my panties!” I present an array of panties – from Dora to Cinderella to monkeys. “NO WANT MY PANTIES!!!” I force a pair of panties on her and she sits crying as she tears them from her bottom. I give up and get a few towels to place on the floor underneath her as she sits there, bottomless, watching Toy Story 2. I proceed to explain to her that she needs to tell me when she needs to pee so that we can go to the potty. She only stares at me (I suspect that she is thinking: “who the hell does he think he is? I ain’t telling him when I need to pee" – but this is just in my mind, right?) I proceed upstairs to put a load of dishes in the dishwasher.
About 30 minutes pass and it is uncomfortably quiet in the basement/family room so I go down to check on Sophie. She is standing, luckily on our future – uncarpeted - bar area, in a puddle of urine. I am upset but figure this is a war of the minds so I keep my cool. I tell her that she needs to wear a diaper now because I am not putting up with cleaning up the floor or whatever else she pees on 10 times today. She continues the blank stare. I know she is planning her next move – or is this just in my mind as well? I get the diaper and begin to put it on her: “NO WANT DIAPER!!!” “NO WANT PANTIES!!!” She rips the diaper off and throws it. She throws her toys off the table; she throws the puppy and looks around pouting because there is nothing else to throw. She begins to scream/cry. I eventually barter – more TV for diaper. This tactic rarely works for Sophie but she is sick, weak, so she gives in. I proceed to tell her that if she has to go pee or poo, she needs to tell me. More blank stare (I know she’s planning something). The phone rings.
“Hi honey, how has she been?” I reply that it’s just great and relay my tale of pee and no panties. Ileana reacts, appalled, “you can’t put her in a diaper!!!, she’ll regress!!!”. I try to explain that I think we’re a little beyond regression at this point but she isn’t buying it. We hang up but I leave the diaper on.
It’s approaching lunchtime so I go upstairs to fix something: “Sophie, you want soup?” “NO!!!” Calmly, I respond,”You want noodles” “STOP TALKING TO ME!!!”. I fix some soup for her and noodles with sauce for myself. I come back downstairs to get her and am greeted by a very strong odor. “DID YOU SHIT YOUR PANTS???” (I know you “calm and collected” parents out there never burst out with profanity like this at your kids. Sorry, I’ll admit it, I stink when it comes to this kind of self control.) Sophie responds with the blank stare. I proceed to put her down, remove the diaper, clean her up and put on her panties. She makes no sound and doesn’t resist. I then calm down and explain to her again about how important it is for her to tell me to take her to the potty when she needs to go. “I NOT TELL YOU!!!!” Did she actually just say that? “Sophie! We have told you about this, there is a place where we pee and…” “I NOT TELL YOU!!!!”
I pick her up and take her upstairs for lunch. This is her first experience upstairs since she woke this morning. She drops to the floor and writhes like Dracula in the sunlight, screaming and crying. She continues this for about a half hour while before I finish preparing lunch and I start eating. As I begin eating my noodles, she hears a slurp from me and jerks her head in my direction. She picks up her puppy and baba, walks over, gives me a big smile and says “Hi daddy”. The transformation is pure and instantaneous – almost scary. “Want to sit on daddy’s lap and have noodles”. She hasn’t eaten anything today except for a yogurt this morning and I convince myself that she is ill and out of sorts so I let her sit on my lap and eat. Though I know evil lurks behind it, I also have to admit that her smile is irresistible.
After lunch, I convince her to nap – the barter this time is that I have to let her nap in our bed and I need to nap with her. I need to mention that bartering is not something we typically do with Sophie but have found it necessary to survive this week while she is ill. I agree to the nap in our bed. We lay down but the snot in her nose, whistling as she breathes, is driving me nuts. “Sophie, why don’t we suck some of your boogers out?”“NO”. I tread lightly but then overplay my hand with another barter that I know I’ll regret. “I’ll let you watch TV while we lay here”. “O.K.!!!” I get the aspirator and she cooperates completely as I try and clear her nose. I don’t get much and lie back down and close my eyes. “Daddy”, she whispers as she taps on my nose. “Hmm?” She whispers again, “you said we could watch TV”. “argh” The phone rings.
I take it downstairs, leaving Sophie in our bed. I am gone for about 5 minutes and when I return, she is out cold. Saved by the telephone. It is 1:30pm. This continues in the afternoon and is not complete until she has peed on her bedroom floor and the kitchen rug, and until she has had a few more fit and animal-throwing episodes.
Today, though she is much healthier, she is not much better in the behavior department. I just put her into her bed after she fell asleep on the living room floor. She ended up there after refusing lunch with fit number 4 for today. I was able to sneak a diaper on her earlier so we have had no floor-cleaning today. I consider this a minor success even though I am sure it will throw Sophie back to pre-birth in the potty training department (sarcasm). It’s almost 2:30. I have to go mentally re-group for the afternoon. Time to try to figure out some new tactics.
11 years ago
