Brat?

This week, I had two freelance deadlines, and the woman who watches the bub periodically bailed on me. (Her grandson had a 102 fever and she had to watch him, so I shouldn't gripe.)

However, this did make for a thoroughly stressful week. That's the thing about kids, if you can focus 100% of your attention on them and never go anywhere, then life would be sweet. Amazingly though, the bub was a doll all week. Taking three hour naps... playing quietly in his room or in the yard while I worked. Genuinely being a trooper, and making do with only about half my time.

Then, we came to last night. I'd finally finished all the work and to celebrate I thought we'd head to the Central Market for Cuban sandwiches and lemonade, as a reward for him being a good boy all week and as a breather from having to make dinner. Alas....

I swear, the clerks at the Central Market must see us coming a mile away and cringe. I probably should have known better, as he'd had a long day already and only an hour before had sucked all the frosting off a birthday cupcake. It's my mistake too for allowing him to go sans shopping cart, but when we pull into the parking lot, I always think it will be different this time. That this time he won't run around like a mad man, heading five aisles down and disappearing when I only turn away for a second. That he won't drag me to the candy aisle and start whining that all the Christmas candy is gone. That he won't grab all the takeout containers from the salad bar and throw them on the ground.

If there had been a hidden camera in the bathroom yesterday, the bub would probably have been hauled off by Social Services and a clip would have ended up on Youtube with the title "Mommy Loses Mind in Public Restroom and Tries To Flush Toddler". After demanding sushi and then, once again, refusing to eat anything but the rice... after causing a scene and screaming at me in the middle of the store... after putting his mouth on the toilet flush after I begged him not to.... I finally snapped... right there in the handicap stall.

I was yelling at him... not screaming, but I probably still scared the crap out of anyone else in the bathroom.... and when he grabbed my scarf and started wiping the floor with it, I told him he could take everything... it was all for him... that I couldn't have anything nice for myself.... that he was killing me with his bad attitude... that his behavior was driving me insane and I couldn't take it anymore... that we were never, ever, ever going anywhere fun again!!!!!

By the time we finally made it back to the car, the bub was screaming and crying, and I felt guilty for being so hard on him when he's just a baby really. I guess, sometimes he seems so smart and sophisticated, that when he actually acts his age, it just throws me for a loop. He's been acting up some today, and just now we had a mini episode which involved him purposely smashing something I'd just spent a half hour doing and then him screaming demands at me on the toilet.

In both instances, he was acting like (dare I say it... not about my son...) a spoiled brat. And I can't help but wonder... is this just a phase, normal for his age... or am I indeed raising a brat?

I've got my fingers crossed that the rest of the weekend goes well, but at this point, if I don't kill him (or myself), that will be a plus.