Trifles of motherhood: I'm proud to say I kept my cool

There are things that wear me out more than others. There are very specific actions, facial expressions and behaviors that my 2 1/2 year old son, Elijah, has and does that bring me to the brink of instanity. He dips his toe in the water any chance he gets. I often request or tell him to do or not do a certain thing and he sees how similar of an action he can commit before pushing the line too far. And then, he gives me that face. Mothers of 2 year olds, boys and girls alike, you know to what face I refer. The one. The one that bores you right to the core of your temper and begs, BEGS...REACT! I'm ashamed to say that many times, much more than are called for, this rips my temper from it's resting place and solicits a reaction far beyond what is necessary. Just today we were sitting and eating lunch together. A sidenote to explain: He has an airplane fetish that plays out in EVERY part of his life and he loves to fly his hands around in the air while we are sitting and eating. The act of eating used to be sufficient, alone, to keep his attention, but this has changed recently. End of sidenote: Eating is secondary to creating an airplane out of anything and everything that resides on the table at any given moment. He knocks over his milk glass, smashes his food, flies half gnawed chicken nuggets onto my plate, soars his fork into my face... Flying hands or nuggets or anything has quickly become taboo. He gave me a sideways glance when he was about to commit the known, today, and quickly shot his hand up in the air like an exploding rocket and screached, " WHYYYYY DIIIIIIE!!!!" (This is what it sounds like when he's trying to say "fly sky"). Most days this is what follows: I glare and repeat my mantra " DO. NOT. FLY. YOUR. HANDS!!!!" (gritting my teeth all the while). He squints his eyes into slits and quivers his whole head and tenses his jaw. It quickly becomes a battle of the tempers. If I keep talking at him he plugs his ears. When I pull his hands down from his head he swings his face the other direction and quivers some more. My ears get hot, I clench my jaw, and clasp my fists, I do whatever else I have to do to keep from raising my voice. Today.....I triumphed!!!!!! Some days, most days, I don't. It ends with him in tears and me feeling badly about being so unbelievably easy to irritate. Triumph for me is no trifle. I've got the temper of a viking and when I let it control my emotions I end up being very ashamed of myself and my childish reaction to the situation. Most days I raise my voice and repeat myself over and over, like thats going to get the point across. Maybe if I say it 5, 10, 15 times right in his face, then he'll stop. Maybe if I grab his hands and squeeze tight he'll see that I'm truly serious. Maybe if I demonstrate why flying our hands isn't ok by flying my hands and knocking things on the floor it will SHOW him why it's not ok. It doesn't, I just get to clean up my own mess. Maybe, if I act like a grumpy, volitile toddler too, and lose my temper about silly things then he will see the light and choose to obey...... My ridiculousness has quickly caught up with me and I'm embarressed about my behavior at tiems. "Every day in every way I'm getting better and better." I'm rather tightly wound when it comes to being a mom to Elijah, but I'm starting to see that me being that way doesn't give me the upper hand, it just makes me look like a HUGE out of control toddler. The only upper hand I have is that I'm 5 foot 7inches instead of 3 feet tall (which isn't really an upper hand at all). Infact, it makes me look like a giant dupe. This is why I'm cutting back. I'm unwinding. I'm counting to 10. I'm doing the work. I'm controlling my volitile temper. I'm growing and learning and in turn, I have a much happier, much more responsive toddler. Just because he throws a fit, doesn't mean I have to.