There's good and bad parenting...and this

So I have four kids. What does this mean? This means that I have already seen fits. I have already seen tender-heart-melting moments. This means I have seen successes in my parenting skills as well as Homer Simpson moments (not so much the beer-underwear thing as the Do'h! head slapping.) I have seen kids shine and make decisions that are wonderful with chest bursting pride and also the moments where they have to live with consequences for a bad decision I want to just fix for them but know with hear-wrenching truth it is something they have to do for themselves.

Where am I going with this? Just a little story. You can judge where it puts me on the parenting scale.

One of my children (I won't specify which one, but he still needs a carseat...) is the most stubborn thing EVER. I do mean ever. He is also super smart. Having three other kids (again, not saying which one...) did not prepare me for all my parenting tricks to be tossed out the window for someone who can outlast/out maneuver/out-think me. **I want to throw in a disclaimer here. I love this child. I love him more than life itself and would give my life for him. He brings me joy everyday and I am thankful to my Heavenly Father every single day he sent him to us. I thought I'd make sure you knew that before I continue with the story.**

This particular child has developed a bad habit of trying to hide from me. He thinks it's funny when it's time to get shoes on to hide behind the curtain. When it's time to go pick up kids he hides under his bed. When we're at a store with clothing (rarely with him) he hides in the center of the rack. His latest thing is when we're about ready to go I'll open the van doors (from inside the house) and tell he and daughter #2 to get in the car. She does. He does not. He thinks it's hilarious to hide behind the tree or even worse, behind the van. Now you responsible adults can see the safety issues involved in this. He just sees the fabulous reaction he gets which generally involve a slightly raised voice, counting backwards from 5, and stomping around to find him with veiled threats (because I'm also usually running late) and a quick frog march to the car and buckling his seatbelt with grumpy force. Can you guess what he does during this time? Is he repentant? Is he sorry for the added anxiety he has caused? Oh no. This little turkey grins. It's one of those times it is a darn good thing I can't read his mind.

This happens a few times and I explain to him why it's dangerous. I explain to him how worried and grumpy it makes mommy. You can picture the scene as we pull out of the driveway and the cartoon word bubbles are floating around from my mouth to one of his ears and right out the other as he grins on the way to school.

I've tried various tricks. I've tried anger. I've tried guilt. I've tried starting to back out (while he was behind the tree of course, not behind the car.) Momentary panic, but the second time I tried it he waited me out until we actually were going to be late unless we left NOW. See "frog march" above.

Which brings us to today. This morning he does it again. Fast forward to this afternoon when it's time to pick up said daughter from school. Usual routine, "Come on (insert name here), it's time to go get the kids. Go get in the car and I'll grab my purse." I see out the window he has taken off behind the tree. I grab my purse. I grab a piece of chocolate. I walk out the door and say in a very loud voice, "I'm so proud of you for getting in your carseat like I asked! I brought you a piece of candy." Imagine a groundhog poking out of it's hole - that kid shot right up. He says, "Thank you mama!" I say, "Oh, too bad you didn't do what mom asked. I guess I'll eat it." CODE RED. His eyes bug out of his head and he bolts into a flat out run as - that's right - I put the whole thing in my mouth and chew slowly while making the most delicious thing in the whole wide world face.

Melt down. He falls to the ground. He is screaming. I'm sure if the neighbors were to see that scene CPS would have been called. "There is a little boy who is OBVIOUSLY dying on the ground and his mom is in the mini-van about to drive away. Not just that but she is grinning."