Three Meatballs

Did anyone happen to catch the last one of my resolutions in my previous post? Well, my patience is definitely being put to the test. Here's a bit of my evening.

The following takes place, beginning at approximately 5:45pm on 1/4/10 in the Benich household...
Me: "Brock, what do you want for dinner? Easy Mac? Spaghetti and Meatballs?"
Brock: "poptarts"
Me: "That wasn't a choice. Do you want easy mac or spaghetti & meatballs?"
Brock: "spaghetti! Mom, I have to go potty. Put the spaghetti in the middle of the table so Sarge doesn't get it."
Me: (laughing) "ok"
---a few minutes later, Brock returns.---
Me: "Brock, sit down and eat your spaghetti"
Brock: "can I have ice cream if I eat all my spaghetti?" (with a huge grin on his face)
Dad: "yes, you can have ice cream...but you have to eat all your dinner"
---a few minutes later---
Me: "Brock, you need to eat"
Brock: "I don't want spaghetti and meatballs"
Me: "why?"
Brock: "I want chicken nuggets"
Me: "why don't you want spaghetti? you picked spaghetti"
Brock: "I want chicken nuggets"
Me: "you need to eat this much" (pulling a few noodles and three meatballs to the side)
Brock: "I don't like it"
Me: "You didn't try it."
Brock: "But I don't like it"
Me: "you need to eat your meatballs"
Brock: "I want chicken nuggets"
Me: "if you eat one meatball, I'll give you two chicken nuggets"
Brock: "I don't like it"
Me: "you can eat the meatball or go to your room"
Brock: "I don't want to" (starting to cry)
Me: "I'm going to count to 10, if you don't eat the meatball, you're going to bed. One............two.............threeeeeee.............fooooouuuuuurrrr.............fiiiiiiiiiiiiiive.............siiiiiiiiiiix.............sevennn.............eight.............niiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeee.............(not able to drag this out much longer!).............tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!"
"Ok, you're going to bed."
Brock is crying harder by now. I pick him up, take him to his room, and without saying a word, start changing him into his pajamas. I tuck him into bed and he is sobbing and wants to go back.
Me: "Do you want to go eat your meatball?"
--no answer--
Me again: "Do you want to go eat your meatball?"
--small nod of the head--

Jumping into summary mode (the play by play would take forever!):

We went back to the kitchen, we sat down. He needed more milk. I got more milk. Again, we face the meatball which is probably downright cold (and probably disgusting) at this point. Again, we count to 10. And Again he doesn't eat it. Tom whips off his belt. Brock cries. I start (for the last time) to count. At 9 and nine tenths, Tom shoves the meatball in his mouth. He starts to squint in a disgusted look and then suddenly his face changes. Tom asked if it was good. He didn't answer, just kept chewing. Tom asked again. "Was that good?" Brock answers: "Yes". I then ask if I can please have a glass of wine!

As if it didn't end there, he wouldn't eat the remaining two meatballs so we substituted chicken nuggets. Two chicken nuggets, each in four pieces. Eight pieces on his plate. It took eight times of counting to five for those nuggets to disappear. Nearly an hour after we began, Brock went to take a bath. You can only guess that after his bath, we read books and put this boy to bed!

I suppose to learn patience, you must practice patience. Thank you Lord for giving me the opportunity to practice patience today. :-/


Side note #1: A stock photo was used for this post on an occasion when Brock actually ate his spaghetti.

Side note #2: After all that fuss...Aubree finished his plate of spaghetti & meatballs and wanted more meatballs.