Thunderous Threes

I like to compare Nolan's meltdowns to a good thunderstorm: They happen usually out of nowhere, are caused by simple changes, they come on strong, are very loud, tears are involved and they end quickly.

We had one of these meltdowns today (hence the blogpost). I went to pick up Greg for a quick lunch and we went to McDonalds. They have those Hot Wheels that come in the Happy Meals. As soon as Nolan saw them he had his heart set on a red car. His dreams were sadly not fulfilled, he received a gray car. The whole meal progressed with him begging for a red car and not eating a piece of his food. Taking advice from the parent books, I gave him two options....keep the red car or NOTHING. He chose nothing. I agreed and told him it needed to go in the trash. Nolan himself walked over to the trash can and dumped his gray car in the pail. What? I really didn't think he would do it. I know it was only a McDonald's toy, but it was still useable.

The problem with this situation was that when Nolan threw the gray car away, he thought he would then receive the red car. I popped that bubble pretty fast. We got in to the car and the tears started. He begged for me to go back and dig in the trash for his gray car. I told him calmly no, he was being selfish and now he gets nothing. Then, Greg reminded him of the infamous scene in Toy Story 3, where the toys go in the fire, remember that scene? That part of the movie even made me cry and has continuously made me feel guilty for any toy that might end up in the trash.

Now, the tears are fullblown with Nolan now thinking that not only will his car be going to the dump, it will then be thrown into a huge infernio to be melted to nothing. I quickly dropped Greg off, and the tears and begging continued all the way home (a 20 minute drive). By now I'm feeling a little guilty, but have to stand my ground. This is one of those "important parenting moments" that I cannot fail at. I keep on repeating myself that he chose to throw his toy away and I will not go get it or buy him a new one.

Nolan finally calmed down (thank goodness). I don't know if it has actually sunk in, but I'm feeling that a nap is in order and naps fix all problems, don't they?

I never thought that standing my ground against a little person one-eighth of my age, only 3 feet tall and 40 pounds would be so hard. I guess that's what parenting is all about. If you are doing it right, it should be hard. Kids have borders for a reason, it's just so hard when they cross those boundaries and it is necessary to deport them back in to "NolanLand" where all little boys follow directions from mom or dad.

Four is easier, right?