Max And Me :)

Punishment

He runs off towards the bathroom and I chase his cute butt laughing. He beats me there and I grab him from behind and start to tickle him. He giggles and tries to fight me off but I'm stronger than him and I gently pin him against the wall. We are both breathing hard from our run. I look into those beautiful blue eyes and just think about how lucky I am to have someone to love again. I don't know how long we stayed like that. Eventually he looks away blushing. I smile and let him go. Max moves to sit on the counter while I start the bath and get everything ready for him again. After making sure the water wasn't too hot for his perfect skin I turn and help him undress. His blush deepens. It's so cute. I help him into the bath and he relaxes when the bubbles hide his prince parts. I understood that. The only person to ever touch me had well... he hadn't exactly been nice either. I watch him play for a few minutes. I didn't understand the game at all but it was messy. I could tell he was trying not to splash water around while I was in there. That or he just couldn't get lost in the game while I was there. I stood and he looked up.
"Nooooo I want more pway time.." he whines at me. I laugh.
"I'll be right back Max. Ok.? Try to keep the water in the tub this time." I say sternly. I get a very quiet "yes mommy" as I leave the room. I go get a change of little clothes and big clothes and a diaper and a towel and come back. Most of the water managed to stay in the tub. Good. I bathe him again and help him out of the tub. He noticed the multiple changes of clothes on the sink as I wrap a towel around him.
"Mommy...?" he says.
"Yes.?" I answer.
"Why so many clothes.?" he asks looking at me sweetly.
I smile at him and say, "Well, I didn't know if you wanted to be big today or little today so I thought I'd be prepared for either."
He looks shocked that I would think about what he wanted. That makes me sad. I hate that he hasn't really been able to make his own choices. No wonder he's such a thinker.
"Little pwease." he says finally. I smile and help him get dressed into the little clothes and diaper that I had brought. He claps happily when he sees himself in the mirror and runs off to his room to play. I let him go and clean up the bathroom and kitchen. That all takes about an hour and after I'm done I decide to go see what he's up to. So I walk over to his room. I peek in to see him on the floor having what looks like an epic battle with his toys. He was so involved that the house could've been on fire and he wouldn't have noticed. I laugh to myself and walk back to my room. Today I had an online class to do. I put on some quiet music and went to work.

(Three hours pass)

I feel a hand tug on my shirt. I have one more paragraph to finish and then I would be done with my essay. I had a pencil in my mouth and tried to mumble something but I could feel my concentration breaking so I refocused on the last paragraph. The tugging got more insistent. I could feel the irritation building up but something told me to hold it inside. I finished the paragraph and turned just in time to see Max stop his feet and hear him yell at me.
"I HUNGIE MOMMY!!!!!!" he screamed in my face. Then he hit me hard in the arm and yelled again something that I didn't completely understand. All I got was why and then that was it. He hit me again and stormed out of the room. This was a complete 180 from this morning. I was too shocked and then too angry to move. I need to cool down a little and think. Me going in there all half cocked and pissed would only escalate the situation. I needed to calm down and think. Ok. What time was it? I look at the clock on the computer screen. It read 2:16 in the afternoon. Oh no. I should've set an alarm or something. He's missed his nap and lunch. Of course his hungry and grumpy. Not that that excuses his actions completely. But it wasn't completely his fault. I wasn't used to having a little so I guess I was more than a little out of practice. I could hear stuff being thrown around in his room and then him stomp into the kitchen. The door to fridge opened and shut violently. I sighed and stood slowly and stretched. I would have to put him in his place. I walked out of my room slowly and looked in shock at the mess the house was. Toys were scattered everywhere. Crayon marks on the floor and walls, anywhere but on paper. Glitter glue in places glitter glue just shouldn't be. I took this all in and shoved my anger away. It would not help. I walked slowly into the kitchen to find him making himself a peanut butter sandwich. Confusion and anger welled up inside me but I pushed it down. I walked over to the counter calmly and got my own knife and made myself and sandwich too. We ate silently. While we ate I watched him. I needed to see if he was still in little mode or not. He was still getting punished. But the approach would be key. Max spread peanut butter all over the counter and himself giggling. Anytime he looked at me he glared. What happened to the happy little boy? I watched until he had had his feel. I wasn't gonna starve him. Make him go without a meal. That's just cruel. But as soon as he was done I stood and said, "Come. Here." I saw the fear flash in his eyes but then he did the unthinkable. He looked me dead in the eye and crossed his arms and said, "No."
"Excuse me??" I snapped back. Letting the anger flow into my voice. "I'm gonna count to three and by the time I get to three you will be in front of me."
He rolled his eyes. "One." He started fidgeting. "Two." He was looking down now. "Three." He uncrossed his arms but still hadn't moved. I walked over to him and grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him to my room. I made him sit in the time out chair and set the timer for five minutes. He sat there shaking and then stood and I pushed him back down and added more time. He kept fighting me. Finally I got my brush and took him to my bed and stripped him. I bent him over my knee and said, "You will count them out." I gave him thirty swats with my brush and then five on each of his sit spots. He was sobbing uncontrollably now. I picked him up and sat him gently back in the time out chair and put the timer for fifteen minutes. He stared quietly at the wall this time. I didn't understand where this attitude had come from. I didn't understand why I was dumb enough to not think to set an alarm. I could feel my resolve breaking. But I had to hold. When the timer went off I went over and picked him up and set him on the bed gently.
"Explain." I asked him. He looked at me and then looked away. He was still crying. I got up and left the room so I could go get the aftercare supplies. I had a whole kit in the bathroom cabinet. When I came back with it he was laying on the bed. I started to work on him gently and slowly sobs stopped and he started to explain his side of the story.