The Opposite of a Zen Alarm Clock

Today I ignored Cheeks, and it actually worked.

My tempestuous almost four-year-old wanted a high sentimental value ring that once belonged to my recently deceased grandmother. I wouldn’t budge. Alternative rings were offered instead. He wouldn't budge either.

The garish red plastic rose ring bought on a whim to accent an embroidered Bohemian halter-top. Nope. Wouldn’t do.

The silver band inscribed with curious Asian characters that I can’t figure out but are very much in style at Pier 1 and Cost Plus World Market. Nope. Wouldn’t do.

My own wedding bands and engagement ring. What? Are you kidding me? Homie don't play that.

I frenziedly looted my jewelry boxes like I was casing a broken glass littered L.A. corner store on April 29, 1992.

Just as I dug up a ratty old hemp necklace, the one that stinks like rotten mushrooms that I could’ve sworn I’d left at my room in the “hemp activist” house in college from beneath a clump of orphaned earrings and knotted chains, I began to wonder, “Why am I playing Best Supporting Actress in another of Cheeks’ productions? No matter what I offer him, it still won't be what he wants. Why play along? I wonder what happens when I stop.”

So I stopped. I shut my ransacked jewelry boxes and walked away.

“MOMMY, I WANNA’ RING! MOMMY, I WANNA RING!” (Repeat. Rinse brain. Wring out brain. Repeat. Repeat on auto replay until you’re on the brink of rinsing your kid in the washing machine instead of his sand peppered carpenter jeans.)

“MOMMY, I WANNA RING! I WANNA THE RED RING!”

Repeat while hardly allowing for life-giving breaths in between. Repeat from the recesses of your nose to sound as nasal and annoying as possible. Repeat for a whole 20 minutes more.

“MOMMY, YOU’RE NOT LISTENING! I WANNA RING NOW!”

Ignore child while splashing a sad one percent watery excuse for cow’s milk into your strong enough to put hair on your chest oversized mug of coffee.

Continuing ignoring child, who incessantly barks at your knees something you’re trying to tune out about some ring you’re trying desperately to have forgotten about 10 minutes ago.

Think to yourself about how this newfangled (at least newfangled to you) ignoring tantrum technique works the opposite of your notoriously difficult to wake husband’s Blackberry programmed Zen alarm clock sound – an incremental digital Tibetan bell chime that slowly dings and dongs from quiet to loud. Except Cheeks goes from loud to soft. (Who said it is better to burn out than fade away? Neil Young? Random question there … )

WHAT? Loud to soft? Is ignoring Cheeks tantrum/tirade/demand for Memere’s “heirloom” QVC jewelry actually working in my favor? Double check coffee to see that you didn’t accidentally pour Electrosol detergent into your vanishing coffee trough. Rub eyes to make sure this isn’t a dream.

Ah-ha … Perhaps negative attention IS better than no attention, as the so-called experts say. Without his big brother to dote on him and engage him all the day, Cheeks might be feeling left in the lurch, lonely, starved for attention. Any attention. Even the kind elicited by behaving like a punk.

Sneak from the black slate kitchen floor to the wooden floorboards of the living room to fold a load of ineffectively harmonized lights and darks. Hope that Cheeks won’t trail behind wailing “I WANNA RING NOW, MOMMY!” like Meatloaf with a megaphone directly in your overly sensitive ears.

Turn around and nearly fall over on your dumpy, out-of-shape junk-trunk to see that the only thing behind you is your shadow. Cheeks is no where to be seen or even heard.

Glance over to the playroom to find Cheeks appearing dejected, dumping out woven toy baskets, presumably in search of one of his sister’s gaudy plastic dress-up rings.

My first experiment with (finally, come on, I have three kids … you’d think I’d have a better tolerance for this crud) ignoring Cheeks’ negative behavior, was mostly successful, well, depending on how you look at it. Cheeks certainly wouldn’t agree.

‘Gotta go. He’s revving up for his usual nighttime terrors now. ‘Better take care of it before the dreaded domino wake-up effect has me ignoring them all.