I have to record this so that I will remember that all sweet boys go through not so sweet phases. And I am really hoping this is just a phase.
Davis seems to have a bit of an anger management issue. Last week, I asked him what he wanted on his sandwich for lunch. He told me peanut butter and honey. So, like a nice mother, I made him a peanut butter and honey sandwich. When he sat down to eat lunch, he looked at his sandwich and then asked me what was on it. I told him peanut butter and honey. And then, in an instant, my sweet boy turned into a little devil. With a fit of epic proportions brewing he started to whine, "I wanted strawberry jam, not honey!" I told him I wouldn't make him another sandwich until he ate the first one that he had asked for. And then he erupted.
As he screamed, "I don't want honey!" he threw his plate, with the sandwich on it, across the table. It scratched the table and broke into several pieces when it crashed into the leg of the piano a few feet away. I gathered every ounce of self-control I never knew I had, picked him up, and told him in my scary quiet voice that that was a very bad choice. I put him in his room in time out. Forever. Without any food.
Ok, maybe not forever. But he must have sensed his imminent demise if he left his room, so he stayed there. Noah climbed up the stairs and played with Davis for quite some time while I cleaned up the mess, vacuumed the broken pieces of plate, and ate my own lunch. I went up a little later and Davis asked meekly, "Can I come out now?" I said yes, and we went on with our day, Davis a little less angry and a little more hungry.