My son loves popsicles. He requests at least one per day. I don’t mind because I make them so I know what goes into them. However, they are messy and sticky and so we have to eat them outside. This means mommy doesn’t always have time/space/energy to sit with the heat and humidity. And then Abe loses his mind and screams for DCFS.
Yesterday Abe asked for a popsicle. I obliged. We sat outside while he high-stepped around the porch eating his treat in utter delight. As soon as he finished, he marched inside and back to the freezer. The child has super human strength because he pulled it open, something I can only do on the days I really put my back into it.
“Opspickle,” he shouted.
“Abe, you just had a popsicle. You don’t need to eat another one.”
“OPSPICKLE?” This was more of a desperate pleading.
“Abraham…” He began climbing up the vertical freezer shelves towards the popsicles. “Abe, you already had a popsicle. If I get you another one you won’t want to eat it. You never do.” He clawed at the freezer shelves.
Then he insisted, “UP! SNACK!” I picked him up and showed him that he’d already had a popsicle and there were no other snacks available at this time in the frozen foods section. He looked down with defeat. I set him back on the ground and closed the freezer.
This is when Abe threw himself into the freezer door as if he’d been running and didn’t realize it was directly in front of him. He bounced off and hit the floor, to his surprise, and sort of spun in a circle on his face.
At this point I’d like to tell you I sat down next to him and acknowledged his frustration and gave him a firm but loving pat on the back so he knew I was there during this very emotional moment, caught between, “I want something I can’t have!” and, “What do I want?!”
But I just did the dishes.
Once he gained his composure, he opened the freezer door again, insistant that there was a snack inside he MUST have.
“There aren’t any snacks in there for you, baby. Do you want an apple?”
“No,” he snapped. He grabbed, knowingly, assuredly, at the bags in the freezer. “No. This!”
Abraham had pulled out a bag of frozen peas.
“Those are frozen peas, Abe. Peas.”
“Please!” he shouted.
“No, I’m not telling you to say please. I’m telling you these are PEAS.”
“Okay. Fine. You know what? You want to eat these frozen peas? I will give you frozen peas. You just eat frozen peas and see how you like it.”
I poured some frozen peas into a small bowl and handed it to him. He shrieked with joy and carefully walked his bowl over to his table.
He then proceeded to eat four bowls of frozen peas.
Continuously returning for more peas, he likely ate an entire cup and a half of frozen peas. He repeated, “Mmmm!” while eating them, like he was just shoving in my face that he wanted those frozen peas all along if I would ONLY LISTEN TO HIM.
Have a beautiful weekend.