Competitive Spirit!

I don't know if this is a boy thing, or a two-and-a-half thing, or just an Owen thing. He's become ridiculously competitive! Every thing is a chance to win, or a chance to beat someone. Putting on our shoes? "I'm beating you, Mommy!" Having a bath? "I'm winning Mommy! Jakey is losing!" Driving? "We're passing that car! We're winning!" Which can be cute, but he's a TERRIBLE loser! And when everything in our life has become a contest, he loses often.

I'm not talking about losing at a game or something I could cheat at to ensure an outcome that does not involve screaming. We're talking about scenarios where I didn't even realize he was in danger of losing until the yelling starts. We were all having dinner the other night, and I was feeding Jake his "mush" at the same time. Jake finished the veggies and I told him he was a good boy for eating all his dinner. Owen burst into tears! "I lost Mommy? Jakey beat me?" Hoo boy.

As parents, of course, Steve and I know that how we deal with this is extremely important. Winning and losing are a part of life, and there are some important lessons to be learned here. And as any good set of parents would do, we've completely leveraged this to our advantage for potty training.

Yep. Warm up the handbasket for us, because we've actually told our son that going on the potty is winning, and going in his pants is losing. And we haven't stopped there, oh no. Whenever he goes on the potty, we tell him he's "beating his friends!" (Nevermind that practically all his friends were potty trained months ago, beating these unnamed "friends" is what makes winning that much sweeter for him. It's succeeding where praise, stickers, and even lollipops have failed!)

Say what you will about our tactics, but the kid has had "underwear under there" for three days now, and has only had four "losses" in that time. (Diapers still for bed.) And whenever he does lose, we talk about how he'll get another chance to try and win again, so it's not like it's all bad. He's a winner, like Lightening McQueen on his underpants. (Of course, tonight when we were putting a diaper on for bed, he wanted to know "Is Elmo a loser Mommy?")

We're very proud of our big boy! I should have known the time was right for him to finally get it: I just bought a club-pack of his current diaper size. I'm sure we'll use them up for overnights. We've been out and about too, using washrooms in stores, at friends' homes, and in restaurants, and he's got a perfect record on the road.

And ball hockey starts in two weeks, so we'll get another chance to screw up work on the whole "winning isn't everthing" message then. In the meantime, his jock fits lots better over Lightening McQueen than Elmo.

Where is Directions, so that I might follow him?

Scene: Owen and Mommy are sitting on the couch. Owen is eating a bowl of grapes. Mommy is playing Wii reading a parenting guide. Owen starts to gag a bit on a grape.

Mommy: Honey, remember what mommy told you. When you eat the big grapes, you need to bite them in half. Don't stick the whole grape in your mouth, it's too big. You need to take a bite of the big ones, okay?

Owen: Okay Mommy.

Owen: (holds up grape) Is this grape too big Mommy? Should I bite it?

Mommy: (concentrating on Donkey Kong, who is coming up fast and threatening my tentative first place position with all the banana peels he keeps lobbing my way a particularly insightful chapter, but wanting to encourage him to bite them all) Yes honey, all the grapes in your bowl are too big, you should bite them all.

Owen: Okay Mommy. (a few minutes later...) I'm done my snack Mommy, can I play hockey ball in the basement?

Mommy: (now distracted by Wario, who is trying to muscle me off the track and into the lava a poignant example of wonderful parenting in the next chapter) Sure sweetie. Have fun.

A few minutes later, Mommy has taken the gold in the Lightning Cup finished the book and is glancing down at Owen's snack bowl.

Mommy: (falls off the couch she is laughing so hard).

Anyone with a two-year-old at home want to take a guess at what had me laughing so hard? Owen had put his snack bowl neatly on the end table. His snack bowl, full of half-grapes. He bit them all in half, as per my instructions. When I recovered, I called him back upstairs and told him he could eat the other half of the grapes too if he wanted. He wanted, and hoovered them down. Then we shared some juice. The end.