the oatmeal chronicles

My 3 year old son is difficult.  No...that's too mild a description.  He is the sweetest most beautiful little boy to ever unleash evil upon the earth.  He is like a delicious sweet lollipop (once you get past the hard, tooth-breaking, face scrunching sour outer coating).  Some days we ponder seeing a doctor to see if there is a name for what he is.  But for now I just like to say "he is JUST three!!" 


He is fussy, quirky, indecisive, explosive, and of all 3 kids, takes the most of my time.


For example, today's morning-long epic oatmeal battle.  A rough transcription:


"Mom, get me oatmeal.  Cold oatmeal."
(mom)"What do you say?"
"Puuuuleeaaasse!!!!!"
(oatmeal delivered)
"fanks"
(time passes, baby sister sneezes from across the room)
"MOOOOOM!!  She sneezed on my oatmeal."
(mom)"no she didn't"
"Well, I don't want it cold.  Frow dis out and make me new oatmeal.  Cook it.  Wif a new bowl and spoon, too."
(I must pick my battles) "Ok - but what do you say?"
"COOK IT!"
(mom)"no, what do you say to ME for doing something nice for YOU?"
"PUUULLEEEEEEEAAASE!!"
(oatmeal is cooking in microwave)
"I don't want it anymore."
(mom)"what?"
"I don't want my oatmeal."
(sigh)
(15 minutes later)
"I want oatmeal cooked."
(mom)"Well look at that, I have some made already, how about that!  Cooked and everything!"
"It's got sugar cooked?"
(mom)"Yup, right out of the package.  Brown sugar."
(looks at his oatmeal with a frown)
"It looks like barf because it's wet and cooked."
(He EATS!)
"All done.  I want more oatmeal cooked, ok?"
"Ok"
"I don't want oatmeal cooked.  I'm full."
"Ok"
"Oh, I want more oatmeal cooked, ok?"
"OH kay"
(half second bowl eaten, oatmeal obsession has come to an end)


Oh, my poor poor patience.