It's been thirty whole months since you were born, a full two and a half years. On the bright side, now I can call you two and a half instead of two, which prompts many fewer odd looks from people when they compare your age with Nathan's. For some reason, two years is an acceptable interval between kids, but one and a half isn't.
Unfortunately, two and a half also puts you in the throes of the terrible twos. And terrible they are. The last few weeks in particular you have been exerting your strong will, particularly through disobedience. You have frustrated and exasperated both Daddy and me to the very limits of our patience. You seem to know which buttons to push and exactly how hard to push us. To say you have been difficult is an understatement.
Yet despite all you have put us through, I can't help but admire you as well. You have extreme persistence. I'm hoping some day you will put that trait to good use, instead of using it as a way to drive us crazy. You are also very creative. You manage to find ways to turn every punishment into a game. If we spank you, you laugh and start walking around the house spanking yourself. If we take your toys away, you shrug and find something new to play with, even if it's not officially a toy. Every time we put you in time-out, you make a game out of finding a way to play even in time-out, and the more disobedient it is, the better. In fact, we have moved your time-out location several times so that it will be more difficult for you to find a way to play, and you love the challenge and get more creative to turn punishment into playtime.
It's gotten to the point where I enjoy hearing you cry when you get punished because it's the only way I know it's working. And I don't know of any other way to let you know your behavior is unacceptable. Better yet, how about we work on not behaving in that manner to begin with? Then neither of us needs to worry about a punishment for you.
Daddy and I have had endless discussions about how to deal with you. We have brainstormed different positive rewards for good behavior; we have brainstormed better punishments that you may actually respond to. So far you have thwarted all of our best ideas. While I am at my wit's end with you, you need to know that you're not a bad kid--not by any means. You're simply mischievous and you enjoy testing your limits, over and over and over again. I'm holding out hope that this stage is just a stage after all and that a few months from now you'll outgrow it. Maybe at that point you will only keep the best qualities that I admire in you so much now.
Daddy and I have had endless discussions about how to deal with you. We have brainstormed different positive rewards for good behavior; we have brainstormed better punishments that you may actually respond to. So far you have thwarted all of our best ideas. While I am at my wit's end with you, you need to know that you're not a bad kid--not by any means. You're simply mischievous and you enjoy testing your limits, over and over and over again. I'm holding out hope that this stage is just a stage after all and that a few months from now you'll outgrow it. Maybe at that point you will only keep the best qualities that I admire in you so much now.And I will have patience beyond that of any other human. Except Daddy. And Nana and Grandpa who had to raise me. I'm sure that's where you got this after all.
The biggest event from the last month is the addition of Amber to our family. Can I just say that you were thrilled about this? You still are, every day. You won't leave your room in the mornings until Amber has come in to say hi to you. You love Amber with the overexuberance only a toddler can have. Fortunately, Amber loves all your loving, clumsy as it may be. She puts up with you when you play a little too rough with her (which always elicits one of those pointless time-outs) and hates when you're in bed--after she's enjoyed a little quiet time of her own first. Amber whines outside your door as soon as she hears you awake in the morning, reminding me that I need to release her beloved playmate as soon as possible. She watches over you like a mother would and plays with you like a sister would. I couldn't be more pleased to get to watch the two of you grow up together.
And I don't know if it's Amber or the visits from your ECI teacher or what, but your language is growing by leaps and bounds these days. Sometimes I wish I could follow you around with your baby book to write down each new word or phrase you say. It's all so fascinating to me to see how thrilled you are to be able to make yourself understood with words. This morning when we were playing outside with Amber, I mentioned Nathan had a dirty diaper and that we'd need to go inside and change it soon. You looked at me and asked, "Isside? Chay di-poo Gaga?" And I knew right away you'd understood exactly what I'd said, using the longest string of comprehensible words I'd ever heard you use. Pretty soon you're going to be asking me to explain electricity to you (ask Nana or Uncle Steve about that reference) and quoting whole songs and movies to me.
For now, though, I celebrate every tiny achievement, whether it's a new word or putting your shorts on by yourself (even if they are Nathan's shorts) or obeying me the first time I ask you to. We had a great morning this morning, and that gives me hope that we can have a great afternoon and maybe a great tomorrow and that not every day will be as trying as some of the ones I've survived lately. I have hope that sometime soon I will get to spend every single day enjoying the happy, sweet, loving boy that you let out to play every once in a while between tantrums. But know that I love even that puddle of screaming Patrick rolling around and kicking on the floor, even if I have to do it while sighing and wearing my angry face.
The biggest event from the last month is the addition of Amber to our family. Can I just say that you were thrilled about this? You still are, every day. You won't leave your room in the mornings until Amber has come in to say hi to you. You love Amber with the overexuberance only a toddler can have. Fortunately, Amber loves all your loving, clumsy as it may be. She puts up with you when you play a little too rough with her (which always elicits one of those pointless time-outs) and hates when you're in bed--after she's enjoyed a little quiet time of her own first. Amber whines outside your door as soon as she hears you awake in the morning, reminding me that I need to release her beloved playmate as soon as possible. She watches over you like a mother would and plays with you like a sister would. I couldn't be more pleased to get to watch the two of you grow up together.And I don't know if it's Amber or the visits from your ECI teacher or what, but your language is growing by leaps and bounds these days. Sometimes I wish I could follow you around with your baby book to write down each new word or phrase you say. It's all so fascinating to me to see how thrilled you are to be able to make yourself understood with words. This morning when we were playing outside with Amber, I mentioned Nathan had a dirty diaper and that we'd need to go inside and change it soon. You looked at me and asked, "Isside? Chay di-poo Gaga?" And I knew right away you'd understood exactly what I'd said, using the longest string of comprehensible words I'd ever heard you use. Pretty soon you're going to be asking me to explain electricity to you (ask Nana or Uncle Steve about that reference) and quoting whole songs and movies to me.
For now, though, I celebrate every tiny achievement, whether it's a new word or putting your shorts on by yourself (even if they are Nathan's shorts) or obeying me the first time I ask you to. We had a great morning this morning, and that gives me hope that we can have a great afternoon and maybe a great tomorrow and that not every day will be as trying as some of the ones I've survived lately. I have hope that sometime soon I will get to spend every single day enjoying the happy, sweet, loving boy that you let out to play every once in a while between tantrums. But know that I love even that puddle of screaming Patrick rolling around and kicking on the floor, even if I have to do it while sighing and wearing my angry face.Love,
Mommy
1 comment:
I still think when he is able to express himself with words he will stop the tantrums. It must be hard not to be able to communicate in a way that you can understand. He is still such a sweetheart and he brightens my day each time I see his picture.
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