Tuesday, April 19, 2011

My sweet baby boy, and my sometimes sweet but mostly insane preschool boy, and my smart but also hard-working girl

At my friend's bridal luncheon this weekend, I was asked about the kids, how they are.  And I think I answered by rolling my eyes.....because I had a rough Saturday morning, as every Saturday morning is because it violates multiple laws of nature to be awakened at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday and then have to listen to children bicker over stupid shit like "her foot is touching my pajamas."

No one has ever, in the history of parenting, said it was fun.  I've never heard anyone call it that.  They've called it "an amazing experience" and "great" and "so rewarding," but never fun.  And that is because it is not.  There are moments of fun, but those moments are greatly tempered by the TMJ-inducing efforts to not kill the child during tantrum or eye-roll number 19,999,482,294.

My sometimes sweet but mostly insane preschool boy
G is hell-bent on setting a world record for number of poops and temper tantrums completed in the course of one 12-hour period.  He is capable of pushing every single one of my buttons simultaneously.

And yet, he is so funny and charming and creative that despite being the biggest pain in my ass, he is also one of the biggest delights of my days.

Every night I rock him for a few minutes, and when I put him in bed he says, "Tell me happy things."  And so I tell him some of the nice things that we will be doing soon, things he can think about and look forward to as he falls asleep.  Last night I was telling him about having Easter egg hunts at both grandparents' homes this weekend, as well as leaving baskets out in hopes that the Easter bunny will come, just as Santa does.  At the mention of Santa, G started singing:

Jingle Bells, Batman smells,
Wobin waid an egg.
He poopt his name,
and Santa said, "No way!"

He got the idea one day in the backyard to drag a long piece of corrugated drainage pipe up to the deck and hang it over the side.  I'm not sure if it was his idea or N's to roll tennis balls down it, but that has proved to be at once highly entertaining and (I hope) indicative of his aptitude in physics.

Over spring break at the wildlife center we visited, while we were watching deer and wild turkey from a lookout deck, he got down on all fours to peep through a hole in the floor of the decking....something N would never have noticed at the same age.  He is an inquisitive little fellow.

My smart but also hard-working girl
Where G is maddening with his irrational behavior, N is, on the whole, my great helper, the child who gives me hope that one day G will behave somewhat normally.  Sure, she is a pain in the butt about doing her homework but I know how sick I am of dealing with daily homework, so I know she feels it more acutely.

As much as I think she is naturally smart, I also know she is a hard worker at school.  She is reading well beyond her grade level, and her report cards couldn't be more dazzling.  It is nice to have teachers say to me, "She is such a delight."

N is at a nice, mostly mellow age, and I like that.  She sometimes reads us poetry at the dinner table, and is into reading snippets from 6 or so chapter books at a time.  While she seems to be taking a break from writing lately, she did whip out a poem the other day (at least she told me this was an original).

Flowers can be on t-shirts.
Candy canes can too.
What can be on t-shirts?
Chicks?  Letters? Animals?  Trees? 
What can be on t-shirts?
I really need to know!

My sweet baby boy
The sweet baby boy has N's hair, which is starting to curl up in the humidity and make little wings above his ears.  He nurses whenever he is scared and needs comfort.  He pulls off the nipple in order to jabber at me in mysterious toddler language and then latches back on, content that he has told me whatever was on his mind.

He moos whenever he sees a Chick-Fil-A commercial.  He is completely happy to be "reading" his books to himself, and he is over-the-moon excited at any opportunity to go outside and play.  When I change his diaper, he likes me to push his legs back towards his face so his butt raises off the floor and I make a farting "Pfffffff" sound with my lips.  He gives the most wonderful snuggly hugs, laying his head on my shoulder.

On the whole, his only deficiency is that damn 6:00 a.m. wake-up call.

Even though this parenting gig is infrequently "fun" and certainly not relaxing, it is nice for me to blog about the kids as they are at this moment in time.  Because parenting these guys is sometimes so delightful as to make up for a lot of its aggravations. 


Anonymous said...

"Tell me happy things" - so sweet!

Kelsey said...

Oh I like these snapshots of your kids. This is the kind of stuff that will be so wonderful to reread someday. And I think all the aggravating nonsense will kind of drift off into misty memory.