It has become increasingly clear to me that I am not in control of this house. I have been taking the path of least resistance and it can't go on any longer. The inmates are running the asylum. Ryan must be placed back in his rightful place and that is at the bottom of the food chain. Well, Max is really the bottom, but you get my point.
Dr. Phil always says when dealing with kids you have to find their currency. Ryan's is snuggling before bedtime. It serves two purposes. 1. He gets my attention, and 2. It allows him to put off his bedtime for an extra 1/2 hour. I have decided that for each time I have to count to three he loses 5 minutes of snuggle time and if he runs out of that he has to go to bed earlier.
This is the second night since we enacted this rule, and the second time that he has gone to bed with no snuggling. Last night he was incredulous that I would do such a horrible thing. It was as bad as when I let him cry himself to sleep when he was 4 months old, but with adding him yelling such horrible things as, "YOU ARE SUCH A MEAN MOM", and "YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE!" Tonight he was crying and using my shirt as his tissue when he passed gas on purpose. This is quickly becoming my biggest pet peeve and it is such a sign of disrespect. It was at this point that Dave took over, and that is bad news for everyone involved.
My sister has a collection of hate mail from her kids. I guess I should count my blessings that Ryan can't spell yet. It is time to take back the night from my little terrorist, but Oh My Goodness, it just might kill me.