No Use Crying over It

Nathaniel is my little man. Mr. Man outgrows his britches faster than I get a chance to find them on sale.  He is the most pensive of all my children.  He senses when someone is unhappy though he doesn't always understand why, even if he is the cause.  He is also very sensitive himself and gets hurt emotionally on a turn of a dime.  The littlest things affect him deeply.

When he feels himself out of control emotionally, Nathaniel tries to find a solitary place.  That usually gives him the opportunity to get himself in check before he transforms into the Hulk.  That is, however, if he senses it coming.  Just like David Banner, though, a situation can arise with little to no warning like hitting his head or stubbing his toe, that immediately unleashes that green monster.

This morning, the kids and I were playing while I was trying to straighten up.  Nathaniel had worked up a thirst, so he decided to go to the kitchen and quench it.  Knowing his growing independence, I let him go in there by himself.

All went well until I heard an, "Oh no," and then a "grrr," from the aforementioned kitchen.  Not hearing any loud banging or clanging, I resisted the urge to go check on him and to give him the chance to see for himself if he really needed my help.  Nathaniel's ability to ask for help is something we are working on right now.

A couple minutes later, he came back to the family room and gave a "Harrumph!" as he sat in my husband's recliner.  I asked if he got his water.  Unhappily, he stood up and walked over to me.  "No," he replied, "I spilled the milk on the floor.  On purpose.  I did it on purpose."

Now, when I was his age, I remember occasionally getting confused with the terms "accidentally" and "on purpose," so I decided to see what he meant.  Was it "uh oh, I didn't mean to do that", or was it "I wanted to spill the milk?"

He stood tall and erect, straightened his arms to his side and clenched his fist and screamed, "NO!  I..did it... on (deep breath) PUUUURPOSE!"  Okay then, there was no misunderstanding him this time.  Speaking calmly, I asked him why he spilled it.  He informed me that when he first poured it in his cup, it spilled.  He got angry...that was the Oh no I heard, and proceeded to dump all the milk onto the floor. 

This was a fresh gallon of milk.  I had opened it just this morning, and had only used one cup from it.  It was a lot of milk.  After some persuasion and with my help, Nathaniel reluctantly agreed to clean up his spill.  Nyssa joined in, as did Gabriela.  My poor Benjamin just stood there, fussing that he was getting milk all over himself.  In spite of the disaster, it only took us about 5 minutes to clean it all up, mopping excluded. 

I had a choice when I saw the white liquid all over that kitchen floor.  I could either react as my son had and thrown a little tantrum, or I could choose to gather my wits, act calmly, and take care of it with as minimal damage as possible.  I was very thankful for the peaceful patience that came over me at that moment.  I realized that yelling and clenching my fist wasn't going to do anyone any good and might just scare the children.  So I took the few moments I had as the children watched for my reaction, breathed, and batted away the frustration that was trying to tempt me into a hissy fit.

Later this evening, as we sat at the dinner table, we recounted the day's events to Richard.  When we got to the Milk Event, I reenacted Nathaniel's outburst for my husband.  Even Nathaniel laughed at my impression.  Richard looked at him and said, "Now doesn't that look silly?"  Nathaniel ducked his head with a sly smile and agreed.  In that moment, with the words that followed, I realized that Nathaniel had discovered the same thing I had.  There was no question.  There is just no use crying over spilled milk.