Robby Rotten Resurrected

It is safe to say that Robby had the time of his life at the Fair on Monday night. We didn't leave until an hour after his bedtime because he was having so much fun. Apparently the colorful lights were nothing short of magical!

When we got home, Robby helped me fix a new water home for Carny, the goldfish prize that he won. Obviously I was not anticipating bringing a fish into the family because the aquarium was stowed in the back of the garage, under a pile of Christmas ornaments. It wasn't until 11:00 that Robby and Carny fish were tucked into their respective beds for the night.

Hoping that the Fair was as exhausting for him as it was for me, I was optimistic about Robby sleeping in on Tuesday. My dreams were dashed when he came into our bedroom at 6:00 AM, chatting about his fishy and the rides from the night before. He snuggled into bed, requested a cartoon and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I didn't realize that those early minutes of my day would be the calmest. I wish I had taken more time to savor the peace and tranquility, perhaps by sipping rather than gulping my coffee. Sometime during the three episodes of Scooby-Doo that were playing on the TV, Robby Rotten emerged.

It wasn't difficult to predict the visit of Robby Rotten. After all, my little guy had a huge night on Monday, full of wonder and excitement. He went to bed well past his normal time, and woke up uncomfortably early. Fatigue is always an invitation for Robby Rotten to wreak havoc.

Robby was grumpy, defiant and just plain miserable all day. Nothing seemed to fill his never ending pit of "I want" demands. He refused to eat yet complained constantly about being hungry. He didn't want to get dressed and became inconsolable when I told him that he could not go into his tree house naked. He threw himself down during temper tantrums so frequently that Scott and I actually considered putting rugs on the hardwood floor to protect his little knees.

Yesterday was not a good day for the grumpies. We are going to Texas later this week, and we had a full To Do list to tackle. In spite of his mood, and against my better judgment, we were going to have to venture into public with Robby Rotten.

Our day began with a haircut. I took him to Cartoon Cuts because the presence of a television playing an animated classic seemed to numb the trauma in the past. Despite requesting SpongeBob, Robby never watched the cartoon. Instead he closed his eyes and began screaming, "Help me, Momom," before the scissors were even picked up. I was charged extra because he was dubbed a "wiggly kid," a description I thought was generous considering his behavior!

After receiving what turned out to be another crooked haircut, we went to Target to buy new big boy underwear. Robby wanted cowboy underwear because he was going to Texas, so I was delighted to find Toy Story 3 underwear featuring Woody the Cowboy. Unfortunately, the underwear also featured Buzz Lightyear, which did for some reason caused tears to flow. Thinking fast, I pointed out that Buzz is on the bum. For some reason, that halted the potential underwear breakdown.

Last night Robby tried to hide my leg in the dishwasher because he didn't like what I making for dinner. He cried because I wouldn't let him take a bath with his clothes on. I was going to point out to him that a few hours earlier he was throwing a fit because he didn't want to wear those same clothes, but I didn't think he would appreciate the irony.

We had a fantastic day on Monday. Yesterday I spent most of the day saying"No," ignoring crocodile tears, refusing demands and walking around a five year old pounding the floor in the time out corner. By the end of the day I was silently cursing the Fair for making him so tired and grumpy.

Robby wasn't talking to me when I tucked him into bed at night. He was mad at me because I apparently sat on his invisible fish. I'm hoping that Robby Rotten left overnight. If not, I'm fairly confident that I'm going to run away from home!