Saving Angel

Angel was in the hospital about to deliver her first baby when Gabe arrived. He had gone camping for the weekend with Dirk and Fred, but the trip was cut short when I called and said that we were headed to the hospital.
It was now midnight as they arrived. Gabe was tired and concerned. He had been waiting and waiting for weeks now for someone to 'get the baby out of Angel'. As soon as they arrived he demanded to see her and the baby. I told him that the baby was not here yet and that they did not allow children in the room where she was. I said, "You need to go to Grandma's and get some sleep. The baby will be here in the morning."
"I need to see here now!" her demanded.
Just then a cousin who had been back in the room with Angel came out and said, "She's getting the epidural."
Another cousin who was there in the waiting room said loudly, "Oh, she's getting the BIG needle!"
This really set Gabe off. He HATES needles. He began crying and really begging to go save Angel from the needle. "They're not going to hurt her!?"
"She is going to get something that makes sure that she doesn't hurt," I looked for the best wording on the spur of the moment. Gabe's mother went to the hospital and died and now she doesn't hurt anymore. I did not want to say anything that would worry him more.
"I have to see her," he whined.
"It will be hours of waiting," I said. "It will go much faster if you are sleeping at Grandma's. I promise that you can see here tomorrow after you sleep at Grandma's. I will come and get you."
"I can hold the baby?" "Probably," I answer.
After several rounds of this whole conversation, Gabe left with an aunt to go to Grandma's. He was still whining and saying, "They're not going to hurt her? & I get to hold the baby tomorrow." repeatedly as they left.

Why cry over clean sheets?

Why must Gabe cry every time I wash his bedding? I have thought about sneaking to wash it, but that is not always possible. I work school days. Besides I think he needs to learn to handle it.
Washing the sheet is not so bad. He has started to get used to that and only whines and asks if I will give it back. The problem comes with washing blankets. I noticed that one of his blankets smelled BAD. I told him that I was going to wash it. His response was, "No, it's mine." A short while later I went to get the blanket.
"It's time to wash it," I said. He started crying and demanding that I give it back. No amount of explaining helps. In fact, it seems to make things worse.
To make matters worse, Gabe sleeps with a pile of stuffed animals. I have tried to keep all of these critters out of his bed with a few exceptions. He just goes and gets them all and puts them back in. Well, some of those stuffed animals smelled bad too. They need a 'bath' in the washer. They will be back by bed time. This brought on a full melt down! There was much wailing and many rude comments.He would not listen to anything I said, so I gave up explaining and walked out of the room.
The laundry always comes back!

You or Me or WHO?

I was in the kitchen cooking. Fred was in the kitchen too. Suddenly Gabe comes running into the kitchen and kicks Fred. "Hey,"  Fred says and Gabe runs back out of the kitchen laughing hysterically. "Don't kick!" Fred calls after him.
A few seconds later Gabe runs right back in and kicks Fred again. This time Fred kicks him back. It's not a hard kick, but he does connect. "Ow," Gabe whines, breathing hard through his teeth.
"I'm going to kick you every time you kick me," Fred says. With that Gabe laughs and runs back out of the room.
About 30 seconds later he's back trying to kick Fred again. Fred tries to stop him. "This is not cool," he says. "I could really hurt you." Gabe is still trying to kick Fred. Fred asks, "Who is bigger, me or you?"
"Me," Gabe responds. (Fred is almost 2 ft. taller than Gabe). Gabe runs out of the room.
"Wow, I thought that he knew the difference between big and small, " I say to Fred.
"I think he knows," Fred says. "He's just cocky." With that Gabe is right back into the kitchen, still laughing. Fred grabs a big bottle of juice and a bottle of salad dressing from the shelf and holds them out in front of himself. This stops Gabe. "Which is bigger?" Gabe points to the juice." See he knows," Fred says.
"Well I thought so," I say. Gabe has run out of the room and is now back, still laughing and trying to kick Fred again.
"Who is bigger?" Fred asks again. "ME!" Gabe says.
"Stop kicking!" I say. Gabe runs back out. I turn to Fred and say, "maybe it's cocky, but maybe it's still more of his you or me troubles. You asked the question and you are the 'me' in the question and so maybe the answer is 'me'. That's not the proper way to answer, but maybe that is what he is saying."
"Hm, could be," Fred says.

See Gabe's Story - part 2 a July 14 post. We have struggled to teach Gabe the difference of you and me and when to use each one. At this point he gets it right more than wrong, but there are still inconsistencies. He still loves rowdy play as long as he is dishing out and not receiving. He will whine or cry when it comes back his way. He does settle down or stop more quickly than he used to. Some times a short specific phrase will do it.
Some times it takes much more.