(Feb 7, 2013) Based on the volume of my son's screams during what has become his usual bedtime tantrum, it would not have surprised me to see police at my door tonight. We live in a town home community, and the walls only have so much between them to buffer noise, and had I been on the other side, I may have wondered what the heck was going on as well! As it was, my neighbors did not call the police, and for that I am thankful.
But Jack did tell me I was going to jail. He also shouted at the top of his lungs that I was going to time out, and then he proceeded to wrestle with me over brushing his teeth and again over washing his hands, hitting me in the face multiple times and kicking me as I tried to pick him up and place him back on his step-stool to continue our night-time routine. I'm exhausted, and as I type this, I notice my writing also seems tired, and I doubt I can adequately describe the chaos that just was putting my child to bed.
Two years ago, I wrote this, a piece dedicated to my beautiful boy, documenting his spirit and spunk as well as boasting about the love and kindness in the heart of my then 18 month old. I explained that his alter-ego, Destructo Dan, is how we adoringly referred to him when he was feisty and mischievous, and that out of that spark within him bore the nickname, Jack-Bo, which we still call him today.
Jack-Bo is still loving and kind-hearted. He has a sweet and thoughtful spirit. His overall personality is still very much go-with-the-flow and laid-back. He tends not to get worked up over things as much as some of his peers, and sometimes when he does, he is usually quick to recover and move forward with life. He is very brave, extremely tough; he loves to "tackle with Daddy" (and also unsuspecting friends!). He is tall, trim and strong. He truly IS physically advanced, riding a bike without training wheels this young and hitting pitched balls with a real metal bat. He also loves to play basketball and dribbles quite well, and football is another sport in which he shows some natural talent, often effortlessly throwing spirals. This athleticism he gets from his father, certainly not from me.
From me he got a steel trap mind, a memory that doesn't forget. He got my eyes, which are officially green now, and of course he still has my chin. We have the same hair color and texture, the same mouth shape and his baby teeth look just like mine did. In fact, he is basically a clone of me at age 5...but of course he is only 3. It never ceases to amaze me how mature he can be for his age, referring to both his appearance and his personality (at non-tantrum-throwing times).
Fast forward to a few days later, and here I am writing about how once again, the tantrum at bedtime was excruciating. Tonight was another "battle over brushing," and thank goodness he had a bath so I got to skip the hand washing! The age of 3 is torture. We did not experience the "Terrible Two's" by any means. I think that when 2-year olds are frustrated, but unable to communicate well using verbal language, tantrums are how they act out, thus the whole "Terrible Two's" concept. But Jack communicated beautifully at age 2. We always understood him, and we were very close, connected by such a deep bond, and he just didn't seem to get frustrated much, but rather he continued to be our easy-to-please little Jack-Bo. Other than some regular tears over going to pre-school, I can honestly say the kid never cried.
Now, on the other hand, not only is he a great communicator, but he is also a smart-ass! Yes, I said it! He is F-R-E-S-H. He is basically a manipulative genius who can smooth-talk us into almost anything just by utilizing his natural charm. Oh, he is sweet. He is precious. He has eyes so big you can see deep into his soul. He is sincere and kind-hearted, and when he swears he won't cry at bedtime or promises he won't hit you again, you believe him. Because who wouldn't believe that sweet little, innocent angel-faced boy?
But how quickly he forgets those promises when the time finally comes to execute them, and we are reminded instantly that he is still just a normal tantrum-throwing toddler. Of course even his tantrums are exceptional in our eyes! Exceptionally awful, I mean.
Enter Miss Lander. Our darling "Baby Girl" has brought a new dynamic into our crazy zoo. She giggles when her big brother makes faces at her or kisses her. She adores him, and he reciprocates 100%. They are buddies, and it is beautiful and heart-warming to watch as their relationship grows, sweet siblings. Lander is much more dramatic than Jack ever was as an infant. He rarely cried. She goes from zero to pissed in about 3 seconds. He never seemed to care when he ate, but he was always a good eater when it was finally time, sometimes settling down for a good half-hour to nurse. Lander is more demanding, and when she wants it, she lets me know she wants, and it has to be RIGHT THEN. There is no cushion, no gray area, no room for error with her. Either Mommy delivers, or she freaks out.
Then of course there is sleeping. Jack has always been what we call the "Ultimate Sleep-Fighting Champion," consistently battling over bedtime and naturally a night-owl like his Mama. But Miss Lander is a sweet dream where bedtime is concerned. Naps well too! I cannot even express how relieved I am that she is so different from Jack in this way. God knew what I could handle...
Lander is also just the world's happiest baby. (Except for when she's not!) She smiles infectiously, and she bats her arms up and down and kicks her little feet excitedly when she is pleased with attention. She flirts with everyone, and all of our friends and family comment on how sweet and happy she is. She is this way 95% of the time. The other 5% she is completely freaking out as I mentioned above. I'm not sure what this means for the teenage years, but I am up for the challenge! ;-)
And as challenging as things may be with my Drama Queen and USF Champ, I wouldn't change them for the world. My kids are awesome. And I'm doing the best I can with them, loving every minute of it, and dreading how quickly the time flies by as they grow and change daily. Jack is no longer a baby and hardly a toddler, but rather a little boy, my "big kid" now, and it both pains and excites me as we enter the next stage with him. Lander is 6 months, and it feels like just yesterday I was still waiting for her to be born (probably b/c she was 16 days late!), and yet now she is sitting up and eating solids and (OMG) she has two teeth!
Last night I strapped Lander onto my back and took a walk around the neighborhood with Jack riding in his Power Wheels truck. We went to get the mail. During our adventure, we stopped for a few make-believe trains, and Jack had to get out to check under the hood at least once. Lander babbled and kicked her feet and grabbed at my hair as she happily tagged along, and when we returned home the fun continued as we played basketball in our driveway. It was a beautiful night, mild temperature, pretty skies. We were out there, just the 3 of us, for a solid 2 hours, waiting for Daddy to get home, and enjoying a leisurely Friday. "This is a fun day," Jack remarked to me. Yes, it was a fun day. One I'll not forget. Ever.
I'm not sure what the cops would find if they were called during one of Jack's bedtime tantrums. Maybe they would arrive to see him finally giving in and defeated, standing with his mouth open as I brush his teeth with the blue Sponge Bob toothbrush, his face still flush and his tears still fresh. Or maybe they would be in time to witness his wild outbursts and manic behavior, kicking and screaming and fighting with all his might. Or, better yet, perhaps it would take them longer than the 5 minutes all of that lasts and they'd find us in bed, reading stories and cuddling, the tantrum well behind us, at least until the next night. No matter what, they'd find us loving our boy...
And they'd find Baby Girl sound asleep in her comfy crib, sucking her thumb, and snuggling with her stuffed animals and Pink Earth Bunnie, her bottom up in the air with her legs tucked underneath. And they'd hear the sweetest little breathing sounds and sighs...
I'm all over the place in this post. Maybe it is b/c I am emotional, maybe just tired. I know it is a bit mixed up, but I think my overall point is the same as always: to record some memories and reflect on how wonderful my life really is. So often I begin a piece emphatically with a problem or challenge only to talk myself down from the ledge throughout its composition. Once again, the writing proves to calm me, providing my own personal therapy and helping to remind me of the important things in life. Thanks for being a part of this journey. Thanks for reading...
~The Zookeeper
