My Kid is a Jerk

Or shall I say, he CAN be a jerk.  As we all can at times, of course.  It just seems that Max's jerkiness is in concentrated form lately.  And on a related note, I've not blogged in 2 months.  How is that related, you might ask?  Well, it's because my life has been crazy since November until a few weeks ago.  Therefore, Max's life has been crazy.  Therefore, he's a jerk.  I took critical thinking in college, I think that's how it works.
So let's reflect.  Several months ago, we decided I could make my return to theatre by directing the January production for Gaslight.  It was a show near and dear to my heart, so leaving Max almost nightly for several weeks would be made easier.  Plus, I "rationalized" it to myself by telling myself that it's important for Max to see me as a person, not exclusively his mom.  A person who not only is capable of things outside our home, but pursues them.  That while balance is very important, so is variety.  Daddy is not the only one who has evening obligations.  I am passionate about people and projects in addition to my family and home.  I do believe these things are important for Max to see and for me to do so I too can see those things in myself.
However, it was hard.  For so many reasons.  I haven't done any theatre since I was pregnant, and I hadn't directed a show since a year prior to that.  Being out of the game that long definitely brings self-doubt and anxiety about every choice.  So now, I'm "abandoning" Max for a project that I'm not sure will even be good.
Dave's schedule hadn't worked out exactly as I had thought it would, meaning Max was spending a lot of nights with my parents.  Trust me, I am so eternally grateful we have them and that they are so close.  Max loves spending time with them and he brings them such joy.  I trust them to make wise decisions with Max and that he will be well fed and taken care of.  However, there are naturally discrepancies in our child-rearing styles, such as bedtime, activities, TV...  Once in a while, these differences are minor and don't have much impact; they're even seen as a treat for Max by him and us.  However, when Max spends so much time with them and then has to return to the rigorous structure of his actual home, there's naturally going to be dissension in the ranks.  And Max didn't disappoint.
Throw Christmas in the mix, especially when Max is the only (young) grandchild on both Dave's and my sides of the family, and you have the makings for a bratty kid.
Now, it's January 23 and Max's behavior has not only not resolved itself, but seems to have gotten worse.  Bedtime takes an hour at minimum, just from the time we first say good night to when he finally settles quietly.  He is waking in the night and wandering into our room, just to ask us (me) to put him back in his own bed.  He's back to not eating well, replacing it with goofy obnoxious table behavior.  And the mouth...I always knew I would have a mouthy kid to deal with as penance for what I put my mom through.  However, I didn't anticipate dealing with it at almost 3; I thought I'd have until 13 at least!  He yells at me, screams "No!" when asked to do something, is so defiant, and downright bratty.  Where did this boy come from??  I am concerned that this isn't just a phase, or worse, that my lack of patience for this behavior will make it irreparable.
I am so proud of the good things I've taught Max.  He (typically) has good manners, saying May I and Thank You.  He (typically) is so sweet and encouraging, frequently telling people he is playing with Good Job! and Nice Try!  He tells us spontaneously that he loves us and willingly gives hugs and kisses.  He has always been a good listener, following directions and shown appropriate responsibility for his age, if not more.  This turnaround is not only infuriating for the obvious reasons, but because it's such a shift from the well-behaved and admittedly "easy" kid I've had for almost 3 years.
I am researching as much as possible to get various perspectives in dealing with a newly difficult child. I understand the developmental psychology of it all.  He is torn between yearning for independence and the inability to accept it.  He feels all the feelings we do, without the strength to handle them.  And I'm sure it just pisses him off when he has to do anything like clean up, stop playing, wash hands, etc.  But I don't know how to react appropriately without ruining his innate spirit.  Plus, half the time, I feel he doesn't give a crap about his consequences, no matter how cruel I fear they may be.
I guess I'm learning that all those people who were jealous of us when Max slept through the night at 2 weeks, was always so happy and pleasant, was so well behaved in church and pretty much everywhere, always was a good eater....they have the last laugh.  Because just when we thought we were ready to have another baby, Max gives us the ride of his life.

Thievery

I was violated last week.  Someone walked onto my porch, right up to my front door and walked away with Max's stroller.  I was out of the house for about 3-4 hours.  That stroller had sat on the porch, inconspicuously mind you, for weeks.  Max and I enjoyed regular walks.  He loved climbing into it himself and riding around while I tried to raise my heart rate, we loved listening to music on my phone while we walked to Super Babcia's (his great grandma) house.  We would get ready to go somewhere, anywhere, and he always asked if he could ride in his stroller.  And some asshole (sorry) has taken these little joys away.  I am livid.  It's not about the stroller itself.  Yes, it cost money and that's a shame.  We certainly don't have money to leave on our porch for people to take as they please.  But truthfully, Max will be 3 in March, so how much time did we have left with that stroller anyway? Not enough for us to even consider replacing it right now.  But someone took that decision away from us.
I had my car broken into last year because I (stupidly) left my purse on the front seat and locked the door.  I was devastated.  I felt stupid, robbed on so many levels, angry, sad (I loved that bag!) frustrated at all the work that had to follow to get a new driver's license, new bank accounts, etc.  I was angry that I had photos of Max in my wallet and God knows where they were. My baby's pictures were in a dumpster somewhere or in a puddle being walked on my strangers or wherever.  In the digital age, I didn't lack for more copies.  But the idea that someone saw his little face and continued to rob his mommy with no regard that she might be so in love with her child that she would even want his photos to be safe, well it is reprehensible.
And now someone has stolen FROM my baby.
My little guy has to learn about the bad in this world at way too young of an age.  He has asked where his stroller is and he did so before I had decided how to handle it.  So I was honest with him and decided to use it as a teachable moment.  I left his stroller on the porch where I thought it would be safe.  But someone saw it there and really liked and made a bad choice and took it from us.  He knows it's not nice to take from others, so I was hoping this was relatable.  Thankfully, he wasn't as upset as I thought he might be.  I was still heartbroken to have this conversation with him.  At 2-1/2 years old.
The plot thickens...
On a whim, I decided to check craigslist.com to see if the idiot who stole the stroller was dumb enough to put it up.  Two days after it was taken, the exact same brand, line, and color stroller was listed on there.  However, it was listed by a consignment shop who uses the online classifieds to advertise what they've acquired.  I'd like to think that people from the consignment shop aren't trolling neighborhoods looking for items to sell at their shop.  So I'm pretty sure that whoever took it, sold it to the shop.  The timeline works.  Unfortunately, our stroller has no distinguishing marks that would help me identify it even if I walked into the store.  I am debating if I should call them and ask them when it was brought in.  I don't expect to get it back; like I said, it's not about the stroller itself.
I am trying not to get in my head and second-guess our decision to buy a house here.  Dave keeps saying to change it rather than run.  But what could I have done differently?  Get to know our neighbors to become part of the community?  Done.  Make our house look lived in and that we care about where we live?  Done.  Lock my doors, have motion lights, be aware of my surroundings?  Always.  Not leave my stroller on my porch?  I suppose.  Not the most convenient way to live.  Not leave my house unattended?  Not going to happen.  I won't live in fear.  But I will probably live in frustration for a while.
Two 911 calls in 2 weeks...hopefully this week is quiet.

***UPDATE***
So, I told Dave I saw the stroller on craigslist.  He was less than thrilled, obviously.  On Monday, he was getting fitted for a tux for a college event, and the tux place happened to be next door to the consignment shop selling what was likely our stroller.  He (bravely) went in and found the stroller, which still had my iPod arm band in the console so he knew it was in fact ours.  He spoke to the woman working (the owner) and explained the situation.  Apparently the woman was mortified and very upset that this had happened.  After noting she would take a loss, she told Dave he could take the stroller back.  He asked if she knew who sold it to her; she said she did, but she wasn't comfortable sharing it with him.  Which was fine by me.  She, however, knows who sold it to her (if it's not a fake name and address) and she won't buy anything from him again.  I called the cops to follow up on my report and explain what happened, hoping they would interview her and nab the guy.  (Yeah I just said nab.)  But the lovely officer never returned my call.  Which is really more unfortunate for the consignment shop lady, since she's the one taking a loss.  We got our stroller back.  It doesn't erase the fact that I had to explain to Max that there are bad people in the world and that those bad people may hurt him.  But it did give him a chance to see his Daddy as a hero, which I have a feeling, will be the first of many times.