Man Up Little Boy!

On Friday night, Craig took Aaron to the Long Island Ducks baseball game. I've never been, but they are a minor league team and the games are supposed to be geared towards the kids and really super fun. So when Aaron's school sent home a flyer that they were having a group ticket sale for Friday night's game, I sent in a check and bought 4 tickets thinking it would be a great family night. Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans right? Ya, G-d was certainly having a good laugh at my expense. With Camryn skipping her nap two days in a row, a 7pm baseball game with a 60% chance of rain and thunderstorms forecasted was not my #1 choice of place to take her. So with me and Cam sitting this one out, Craig and Aaron had a boys night with the Ducks.

For me, taking my kids anywhere is always stressful. Why? Because I want them to behave. No, change that. I expect them to behave. I am certainly no drill seargent and my requirements are not too much. Don't scream at the top of your lungs. Don't run around like an animal. When in a restaurant, don't go under the table. And when I say something, listen. Understandably, 6 year olds and 3 year olds don't listen 100% of the time. Like I said, I'm no drill seargent - a 50% success rate would make me happy. But when in public, listen to me when I tell you something. And knowing in advance that that most likely is not going to happen usually stresses me out before we're even out the door. Craig though is different. The antithesis of my Type-AAA personality, he's laid back. Sometimes it irritates me how laid back he is. It takes alot to get him riled up. So when he came home from the baseball game on Friday night with a look on his face like he was ready to clobber someone with his own baseball bat, I braced myself. Because he'd already had a 30 minute car ride to get over it and he so clearly wasn't.

For the next 20 minutes, I listed to why he was so mad. Did Aaron run around like an animal? No. Streak across the baseball field? No. Not listen? No. What then? He cried. Four times. So hysterically that every single person sitting in the section stared. And stared. And kept on staring. For a long time. And the worst part? The crying was for absolutely no reason. As Craig is relaying the goings on of the night, I'm slowly coming to realize why he's so pissed off. Because for someone who absolutely hates to be the center of attention, he had the entire section of the stadium staring at him 4 separate times while Aaron hysterically screamed his head off. I understood that if Aaron had actually been hurt or anything that warranted hysteria, Craig would not have cared who was looking at him. But for no reason? He was absolutely mortified.

I'm sure that those reading this (all three of you!) are on the edge of your seats wondering why all the crying. The first time, he legitimately got hurt. The other three times, in order, were:

1. He wanted ice cream. And then he didn't like the flavor ice cream that he got.
   
2. He wanted a t-shirt.
3. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to sit with his friend and her dad or go with Craig to the bathroom.

Basically, he was acting like a brat. A giant spoiled brat. A giant spoiled brat who is about 3 years old. Not 6 and in kindergarten. But this is Aaron. The sweetest little boy in the world, so cute, nice and funny, but man, a total infant. At home, if he wants something and we say no, he cries. I'm talking anything from wanting to watch tv to wanting a snack to wanting to go outside. We're at the end of our rope with the crying - so close to the end of our rope that the other day I actually looked at him and said, "Man up, Aaron." Seriously. I told a 6 year old kindergartener to man up. Because I can't take the constant crying.

Our current solution is just to ignore it. Let him cry. I'll send him to his room until he's done crying because I just can't take the sound of it. But when we're out in public, it's a problem. Like Friday. Poor Craig. I don't think we'll be seeing the Ducks again this season.