Day 306: Tomato Face

7:25:am

“OK, buddy. What do you want to watch?”
“Care Bears movie!” he said.
“You sure you want to watch Care Bears?” I was hoping he’d change his mind to something less adorable.
“Yes, Daddy, Carebears.”
“Ok, but since it’s 68 minutes long, it’ll count as your two shows for the morning.”

I navigated the Netflix menus and chose the pinkest, most diamond adorned icon. Care Bears. Whatever, I shouldn’t care. All fetuses start as female, right?

ERROR: Netflix cannot play selected content.

Fuck. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m terrified of my 4 year-old son. I scrambled like a salesman trying to save his job. “Would you like to watch a movie on regular TV?” I asked, panicked. He seems to always be teetering on the edge of losing his mind. I have no idea where he gets it. His mother and father are SUPER STABLE. I can’t start the day with a freak-out, especially one caused by technology’s temporary inability to stream a movie about pastel bears that shoot colorful love beams from their tummies (is that even what they do? I can’t pay attention to it.)

The whining started. It was soft at first, like someone warming up a car in the winter. “No, I want to watch Care Bears.”

I knew my cable provider didn’t offer it so I really had only one chance to save the morning. I had to reboot the AppleTV.

“Why isn’t it working, Daddy?”
“Not sure. I think if I restart it, it might work.”
“Will that take a second, a minute or an hour?”
“A couple minutes maybe.”

The whining became a little stronger. Exhaust was billowing from his tailpipe.

“I want it to only take a second,” he said
“I’m sorry bud, I can’t control that. I’ll unplug it and plug it back in and go make coffee. When I come back it should be ready, OK?”

My non-negotiable offer was tacitly accepted by his pregnant silence. In the kitchen, I took a deep breath and braced myself on the counter – that was a close one.

Huh? What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I fear the wrath of my kid?

My wife and I started fearing Silas the moment we brought him home from the hospital. He wouldn’t nurse and he wouldn’t stop crying. In anger (we thought), he would stop breathing until his face turned red and steam shot from his ears. It happened enough that we invented a verb: “Tomato facing.”

He would tomato face for what seemed like no reason at all. People told us it was gas, so we tried Mylanta and various holistic wastes of money like “Gripe Water.” Nothing seemed to help his fussiness. Visitors were sometimes shocked by the depth of our struggle. They tried to help, but never made suggestions we hadn’t already tried.

I think 4 years later, both Lindsay and I still experience some PTSD from the tomato face days. He’s grown into an incredibly charismatic and kind-hearted but mercurial little boy. In retrospect his behavior as a baby makes sense. It was just his personality. His propensity for flying off the handle is still there, but he’s able to express his frustations a little better. At least now we usually know why he’s upset, but surprisingly that only makes it slightly easier to deal with.

When Netflix doesn’t load his show and his whine engine starts to rev, my subconscious prepares for a full-on tomato face. Sure, he throws tantrums like any 4 year-old, and they’re usually caused by simple miscommunications, hunger, or fatigue.  Maybe they’re also sometimes caused by me tip toeing around his feelings which have matured beyond flipping-out because he has to wait a minute instead of a second for Care Bears.

I got Netflix to work, but I forgot to feed him. Silas was in the middle of a little freaky time when Lindsay came downstairs with Arlo.

“What’s wrong with Silas?” she asked.
“No, idea. He was totally fine a minute ago.”
“Well, did you feed him?”
“No, I forgot to because Netflix said it couldn’t play the Care Bears movie and then I went to make coffee and, and … nevermind.”
“Oh geez. OK, you watch both kids, and I’ll go cut up some pear or something.”

Sweet sweet failure and a perfect reminder to make sure I stress about the right thing.
 

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Jen says:

When my son was born, 7 weeks early, his head was literally the size of a large tomato. Since he wasn't fully 'baked', his skin was a little thin, and every time he pooped he'd turn bright red – a literal 'tomato head'. Yeah, it was a verb in our house too.

Genevieve says:

My son has been difficult since before he came out of me (36 hours of hard labor, emergency c-section to save my life). My husband works out of town for up to a month at a time, and it's just me and my 5 yr old 24/7. We have zero help (think Calvin's parents trying to find a willing babysitter).

Joel has some temper issues (he's in a program), and some days I end up bruised and emotionally exhausted. One particularly trying month, I found myself on my bed, sobbing. Joel came in the room, started stroking my hair, and told me he didn't *want* to hit, but I made him so mad; he promised it would never happen again. At that moment, I realized: I'm raising Ike Turner!

Crystal says:

I got rid of our TV & Cable altogether to avoid the struggles it's bound to cause with my 2 yr old. Now without the TV there's no temptation. And my argument is rock solid: 'sorry sister, there's no TV'…. Of course I have an emergency iPod for sick days and airplane flights. But it magically appears & disappears on cue.

Cara U says:

I am currently sitting in my car waiting out the screaming fit that my 3 year old is throwing because he doesn't want to park in the garage. Definite tomato face.

Angela C says:

Ha ha, we named things that the kids did when they were babies too. You know that "startle reflex" where they throw their hands up? We would say that they were doing a hallelujah. I love it when babies do that.

SuperBonBon says:

Why is it that dads forget to feed the kid and then can't figure out why they are fussing?

Erin says:

At least you HAVE technology! My 17 month old has such a temper that he threw his sippy cup at our brand new flatscreen. You guessed it! Not watching Toy Story for the 300th time cost us a brand new flat screen. This is from a 17 month old. You bet your ass I'm afraid!!

Thanks for keeping us laughing :)

Christa says:

It excites me greatly to know I am not the only person who is afraid of their child. Most kids have really cute nicknames…my daughter has been given the following ( by people outside the family) little mafia, emotional gangster, and baby jihad. We tiptoe! LOL!

JB says:

Teenage jihad fits at my house. I will wear that term out, thanks!

Christa says:

I dont look forward to the teenage years… I'm sure mine will progree to teenage jihad! lol!

Lori says:

My 6 week old is referred to as "the kraken" (as in "the kraken stirs…"). I see a plush Cthulu in his Christmas future. We'll probably never tell him why.

Christa says:

LOL!

Jennifer M. says:

My daughter is 2 and absolutely nuts about Care Bears. She's *just* old enough to recognize when we're trying to distract her with something else, and she gets furious. We may often feel like we could recite (and sing) the whole movie in our sleep, but she can't get enough of it. When our power went out for six days due to that October snow storm, the worst part was not having internet or power to let her watch "Bears". She went nuts every time she "asked" (read, demanded) to watch it, and we had to tell her no. A 2 year old doesn't understand that electricity and internet are why she gets to see her favorite show – to her it just magically appears. Immediately following the restoration of our power, we decided we ought to get smartphones that will play Netflix when all other power is out.

Jason Good says:

We're feeling very trapped by technology lately.