We Have Met The Enemy, And He Is Us
Emmet is growing by leaps and bounds lately it seems. Since starting school he is much better with the other kids on the playground at night, and its only been three weeks. In the last five days he’s gone from timidly standing on the edges of the pool to diving and swimming ten to fifteen feet. He is growing like a weed. Since we arrived in January he’s outgrown one pair of shoes and is working hard on the second. Unfortunately his brain is growing just as fast as his feet. His reasoning skills have gotten much better. He has become fiercely independent. The most common phrase heard from him is “I don’t need help, I can do it all by myself!”. While these are all good things they bring with them some unforeseen baggage.
The checked bag of this growth luggage is memory. Gone are the blissful days of “If you behave the whole time we’re out maybe you can get something at the store before we go home” only to have the thought skitter out of his little brain and us not have to pay up. Oh no. Now if said carrot has been dangled it must be munched. Before leaving E will tug on your hand and give you doe eyes that any Disney animator would be proud of and say “Was I a good boy? Good enough for a treat?”. BOOM! Two prong attack, adorable and pathetic. That boy knows where his bread is buttered. Really what he’s thinking is “Listen fella you promised me something good and I held off the flailing tantrum in the cereal aisle. Now make good with the hotwheels”. It is with heavy heart and empty change purse I must let the day of the idle promise go.
The carry on parcel, handy, accessible, always ready for action is reasoning. Couple this with memory and it is a dangerous thing in the hands of a child. Your words are repeated to you. Complete with a face full of righteous indignation. And at appropriate times, that make you want to simultaneously crawl away slightly ashamed, toss the little bugger across the room, and congratulate him for already developing a scathing wit. The other morning Mommy was sitting on the couch doing a Sudoku (which I despise more than any other newspaper game). Emmet grabbed his colored pencils and asked if he could draw on the book too. The answer was along the lines of “This is Mommy’s game its not for kids” to which the reply was…
“You get to do it, then I do. That’s taking turns and that’s how you share Mommy”
Yeah, that just happened. He was using our words at a correct moment in an absolutely adorable/frustrating way. Then not even twenty four hours later it was my turn. If you read the last post you know I have had a little trouble with E listening to instructions and keeping up when we go places. I tend to have to repeat myself a few times to get his attention and get him to listen. Well apparently at least part of the lesson has sunk in. I was doing dishes and he asked me to get him some more juice. It was a polite request, I believe there was even a please used. I told him to give me a couple of minutes to finish the dishes and I would fill his cup. A few minutes passed and I wasn’t quite done when he asked a second time. So again I told E to give me a minute to finish. He went back to playing trains for a little while until a third time just as I was finished he asked for some juice. As I told him I was almost done and to give me a second he looked up at me with as stern a face as he could muster and said “How many times do I have to say the same the thing Daddy? Can. I. Please. Have. Some. Juice.”….Damn it kid. You got me.