Bites and Pieces

As I mentioned yesterday, my darling little angel turns into a demon child whenever she has been bestowed with too much sugar. The form that the sugar takes is generally irrelevant, though she clearly favors chocolate (food of the gods, right?).

Being the modern (stupid?) mother that I am, I chose to turn a blind eye when Boo discovered her trick-or-treat bag Sunday morning. I'm usually pretty strict about her sugar intake – though she's quick to take advantage when I'm not around – but I thought I'd be a bit generous considering that all of her friends were probably doing the same thing at that moment. I don't remember my parents ever seizing control of my Halloween bag, and I didn't want to be the meanest mommy in the world. Silly, silly me.

Somewhat surprisingly, I got the B-monster ready for church in near-record time, thanks to a lot of help from the Hubster, and arrived our usual 15 minutes late. Not bad. We snuck in and took a seat at the very back of the room by ourselves since the Hubster stayed at home sick. Mistake #2.

The family sitting in the back next to us consisted of a very well-behaved little girl, perhaps 7 years old, and two crazy boys, probably around 4 and 6. The boys spent the entire time running, screaming and throwing things, and the parents ignored them. Completely ignored them. I couldn't hear a word of what was being said, and, worse, my Boo was mesmerized by their irreverent antics. So mesmerized that she kept trying to join them.

I know that she's only 2 ½, but she is well aware that her options are to sit quietly or go to the foyer. If she sits quietly, she can play with toys, draw pictures, and eat snacks. If she needs to be taken to the foyer, she is held the entire time and must be quiet and listen to the speakers. She almost universally prefers to sit quietly in the chapel – it's much more fun.

Yesterday, however, she decided that she wanted Option C: to run around and scream. My response? Pick her up and hold her, taking her outside if necessary. Her response? Slap Mommy in the face repeatedly. And not the playing around kind of slap. A full-armed, shoulder-pivot, flat-handed, red mark-leaving slap. Over and over and over. I tried turning her around so that her arms couldn't reach me, so she decided to use her legs instead. I can handle kicks, but it becomes trickier when you're wearing a wrap around dress. The kind that opens up very easily when you have a flailing toddler in your arms.

Yup. I flashed the entire congregation.

Instead of going to class right away to play with her friends, Boo got a long lesson about reverence from Mommy, complete with a question and answer portion, as well as a quiz requiring her to demonstrate what reverence looks like.

I was a bit nervous to bring her to class afterward, but I felt that she'd paid as much of a price as a wee one can. I warned her teachers that she was acting certifiably insane, and to let me know if any problems occurred. They laughed and told me how great Boo was, and pointed out the kid passed out on the floor to illustrate how loopy all the kids were being that day. I hoped that this would be the end of things.

Nope.

Five minutes before church ended, one of the teachers brought my child (MY child?!) to me and explained to me how she'd almost bitten one of the smaller children in the class – practically a baby. They'd managed to pull her off before her teeth had sunken in, but I was still mortified. Boo hadn't bitten ANYONE in over a year! I know, because I'm the one she used to always bite.

Long story short, she got a long lecture from me, her grandma, and her daddy when she got home, and was put down for a nap the minute she walked through the door. By the time I left church, I had people telling me that they'd heard about how Boo had tried to bite another kid. Yeah, it had gotten around to everyone.

When her grandma asked why she'd bitten the little girl, B calmly explained to grandma, "I didn't want to share anymore."

Moral of the story? If you give your kid lots of sugar, they will beat you up, cause you serious embarrassment, will harm people who are weaker and smaller than they are, and will refuse to share.

I hate Halloween.