I wish you love

Playing with Grandma

The worst thing about living in Finland is not the snow, the sleet, the hail.  It’s being away from my family.  It’s knowing that I can’t just call my parents and invite them over for dinner.  Or just pop by my sister’s for an impromptu movie night.  I’m not a three hour flight from my Wisconsin family.  When things are good or things are bad, I’m not physically there to celebrate or mourn.

And neither are my kids.

Skype is great and all, but it’s no substitute for the real thing.

You can’t play baseball on Skype.  You can’t give kisses on Skype.  You can’t help with baths on Skype.

But I’m not one to give up or let depressing things take over.  I’m one for solutions.

And this solution takes the form of a Playmobile Firefighter.

Internet, meet Grandma:

Two days ago, in a flash of brilliance, I asked Moomintroll if he wanted to play baseball with Grandma.  Moomintroll (played by Benjy) enthusiastically agreed!  I searched for the nearest thing to play Grandma, and this is what I found.

Benjy happily accepted this doll as a temporary replacement for the real thing, and everyone- Moomintroll, MoominMamma, MoominPappa, Niisku, Niiskuneiti played baseball with Grandma until it was time for the Moomins to head to sleep.  And even then, Grandma was allowed to sleep with them in their fantastic house.

The awesome AWESOME thing is that Grandma’s firefighter replacement will only be needed for another five days.  Because that’s how soon Grandma will be here!   I can’t wait for my mom to come and see the new digs and spend some days walking around our fabulous new neighborhood.  I’ve ordered sunshine and just enough snow to keep things pretty, but not enough to make walking a chore.  We’ll see if my order is delivered.

The tantrums. Oh, the tantrums…

Today I made a decision on my way to pick Benjy up from daycare.

Today is a new day.  I thought.  Today I choose to be in a good mood no matter what the demon child throws at me.

Because, it seems, that is what Benjy has morphed into.

And you never know when the demon might attack.  Monday night it was because Olli zoomed him up the four steps outside our building instead of allowing Benjy to walk himself.  Yesterday morning it was because he didn’t want to put on his winter gear to go to playgroup.  Yesterday afternoon it was because I put his Bandaid on wrong.  Yesterday night it was because Olli took him to play floorball outside instead of at the floorball arena.

And just now, it was because he didn’t want to take a nap.

These aren’t just a few heated words.  These are full on 10 minute screaming, running, flailing meltdowns.  Apparently Benjy’s tantrum last night lasted from the minute they got outside until Olli returned with the boys 20 minutes later.  What a pity I had to work instead of go with them…

But today, because of my commitment not to throwing a tantrum myself, I very quietly turned off all the lights in the house, got my blanket, and crawled into Benjy’s bed, where I waited for him to join me for our two minutes of obligatory pre-sleep snuggle time.

It diffused the situation immediately.

Let’s hope I can keep my cool for the next 3 hours, 45 minutes- until Olli gets home.  Then it’ll be HIS turn to wrestle the demon.

You Good Boy Now, Yeah

“You good boy now, yeah,” was the phrase my dear son repeated over and over in his attempt to convince me his EPIC tantrum was over.  And that he was such a good boy that his tutti (pacifier) which I had taken away in retribution carefully thought out punishment should be returned.

“We’ll see,” I’d reply and the tantrum would recommence.

Of all the sorts of tantrums to have, my absolute FAVORITES are the uber-public ones.  The ones where everyone and their mother can hear for miles around.

Remember, dear readers, we don’t have a car.  So, if he starts a tantrum in the park and continues the entire way home, screaming, writhing, crying, and snotting- it’s for all the dear pedestrians, shop-keepers, bus drivers, etc. to witness.

Today’s tantrum was so bad, someone actually came up to me and asked if I was okay.  She wanted to make sure I had a support network here- friends.  It was really sweet of her, and helped break my horrendous mood.  Because I have never NEVER been so angry with Benjy.

I was so angry I was shaking.

Today’s battle began because Henry and I were cold and we needed to go inside at the park.  They have lots of toys inside.  They even have a Foosball table, which Benjy is normally DYING to play.

But today he wanted to play with his hockey stick outside.  And so he refused to come inside.  Mini tantrum ensued.

“Not coming inside?  Okay.  We’ll go home.”

“Nooooo!  Nooo!  Inside!  Okay!”

But by then it was too late.  Bad behavior is not rewarded in this family.  Tantrums are not rewarded.

“No, you’re being naughty.  Now we have to go home.”

I collected the hockey stick, the puck, and Henry.  I put them all in the stroller.  I then picked up Benjy and carried him off whilst pushing the stroller.

Well, that wasn’t sustainable, with all the kicking and wriggling he was doing.

Alright, into the stroller then.

He climbed out.  While the stroller was moving.  He’s apparently in training to be a stunt double.

Then he ran away.  I ran after him, caught him, and held on tight while I shifted Henry to the bottom seat and Benjy to the top, where he could be strapped into the five point harness.

He escaped from the five point harness.

I then pushed the stroller using Benjy’s shoulders as my steering bar- it was the only thing keeping him in place.

We got to our building, I heaved him out, walked up the steps opened the door, slung him down and shut the door very quickly so he couldn’t escape.

I got Henry and the stroller upstairs and through the door being careful not to let my beast of a child escape.

Then the elevator.  Oh dear goodness.

I called the elevator and tried to tune out the wretched screaming while we waited, saying silent “I’m sorry’s” to anyone disturbed in the building.  The elevator came, I ran to get Benjy, unceremoniously heaved him into the stroller (I think he was on his head, if I remember right), shoved us all in, got to our flat, and miraculously got us all through the door in one piece.

One sniveling, sweaty, fuming piece.

He eventually calmed down.  I calmed down.  Benjy begged for his tutti.  Henry and I had lunch.  Benjy begged for his tutti.  We read a story.  Benjy begged for his tutti.  I gave him his tutti.  They both passed out.

It’s a good thing I don’t drink or my toddler would turn me into an alcoholic.  As it is, I relied on some peppermint tea, chocolate, and cheese to steady my nerves.

Someday I’ll read this and laugh.  But not today.