Are kids psychic?

How do they know the ONE behavior that will drive you up the frigging wall.
I do a good job with most of the behavior stuff. I’d go so far as to say I am a really patient parent. I keep my cool, I stay calm, I’m not a shouter or a hitter or a name caller. I can address the behavior without targeting the child, I try and understand that most of these foibles are perfectly developmentally appropriate and respond accordingly. Hitting, throwing things, general defiance…………..I’m pretty much ok with those. I can redirect, I can take toys away, I can put him in timeout for egregious offenses. What can I not handle without going crosseyed and seeing RED?

Spitting. OhSweetBabyJesus, SPITTING. Not even spitting-spitting, just blowing raspberries spitting, but it make me absolutley bonkers. I’d rather he just haul off and smack me in the head, honestly. Because that I can at last handle calmly. Sometimes it’s innocent and he’s playing, and I can blow it off, even while secretly being totally grossed out. Because toddlers are, well, excessively MOIST, and while a grown up can stick his tongue out and blow relatively dryly, a toddler raspberry is as best a little like a summer rainshower. At worst, you feel like you are on the front row at a Gallagher show. Only it’s SPIT, the worlds most revolting substance. Even writing this, I am grossed out by the spit in my own mouth. I have not shared a beverage with another person (even my husband!) since middle school. I can’t even eat lollypops or hard candy or gum – it’s just swallowing flavored spit! EEWWWWW!!
So, with my saliva issues, it’s no wonder that when he spits aggressively, to show his displeasure or defiance, it takes every ounce of control in my body not to just come undone. Last night he was in a benign spitting mode, playing games, and while it was generally annoying it was not vindictive and I just bit my tongue, ducked and diverted, and was sorry nursing was preventing me from a nice big glass of merlot. Later, though, he was angry because it was bedtime and I crouched down on his level and was telling him “Sorry, but it’s time for books and then bed.” Little demon blew a big ol’ wet raspberry right in my face. I have never in his whole life even been tempted to spank or strike him, honestly. But there were a few fleeting seconds there where I could see myself smacking him, and I could see it feeling satisfying to be making him as unhappy as I was right in that moment. It would have been totally counterproductive, and it absolutely would have been out of line with my general parenting philosophy, but the vision was there. I suspect he saw it, too, as I found myself adopting the dead calm, flat voice I heard from my father as a child when I had *really* crossed the line.
“Books. Bed. NOW.”
He scrambled to bed with no further incident. But I know it’s a momentary reprieve. No toddler would ever give up such a sure way to get a rise out of a parent. Hell, I am 37 and I still have a few in my pocket in case my folks get out of line!