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Sometimes, I feel my emotions run the gamut in just a few hours. Maybe a few minutes. I think my housemates must think I've lost my mind. Rather, I used to think these things until today. Today it became crystal clear why my personality is sometimes all over the place. I was feeling happy and content because I was able to start off the day early by accomplishing some chores. A couple loads of laundry and finally getting all the dishes washed - even the big crystal salad bowl that sat at the end of the counter for a week patiently waiting it's turn in the soapy water. It always seemed there was something more critical to do. But not this morning. I was becoming giddy as I neared a kitchen with all clean dishes. Usually, Will tries to insinuate himself between me and the counter, whining and crying "mom-mom." But this time, he and Carter were off playing together and I just couldn't believe my fortune: thirty minutes of solid productivity!
Studying literature should tell you that, as the reader, you should start to look for the dark cloud on the horizon. For, as I wiped down the counters, I heard a wooden ball descend the staircase, a harbinger bouncing step by step into my world of peace. I heaved a sigh of irritation as I have told Carter and Will not to perform such experiments. Doesn't anyone listen to me? Don't I have a voice? I marched over to the bottom of the stair where I peered up and found a sweet looking pair smiling with delight. I reminded them that they shouldn't push toys down the stairs, nor leave any there - it's very dangerous. Will became excited and held his arms up, asking me to come get him. As I ascended the stairs, the whole scene unfolded like a cleverly written mystery novel. I didn't put all the clues together before the exciting denouement. There, parading from the guest room closet, was a string of toys, toy bins, cookie cutters, matchbox cars, and so forth. Had I not just completely cleaned every dish in the kitchen, I think I would have been angry. However, the residue of contentment lingered and I could only utter, "You better put all of these back before your daddy gets here for lunch." Here was my 4 year old's reply, "I didn't do it. Will did ALL this." Remember that residue? It was gone. I explained that I did not believe him, that Will could not get all the toys out by himself. Carter protested a little but decided that, even if what he was saying was true, he wasn't going to find any sympathizers. I turned and went back to the haven of my kitchen, trying to forget what I'd seen and heard. It's the only way to keep all my personalities fused.
I have been feeling voiceless, lately. It seems to me that what I say goes unheard by all the members of this house. I felt pretty sorry for myself until I saw little Will trying to tell me what he wanted this afternoon with his limited vocabulary. How frustrating to know what you want, to understand what other say to you, but no be able to communicate in response. He has many more words than Carter did at this age, and he loves to call all manner of things "Dawg." He uses his signs, "more" and "please." But, he sees the alacrity the others move through this world, how his older brother manages to get drinks and snacks with just using words and he must lead me into the kitchen and point into the pantry. "Would you like something to eat, Will?" He rubs his belly - "please." And while I can appreciate the sophistication of that kind of communication for my sweet little 18 month old, today, I couldn't help but appreciate his exasperation of his current situation. This whole world is big, confusing, fast, dangerous, intriguing, cold, hot, smelly, salty, sweet, different. How is he ever going to catch up? Why can't everyone figure out what he needs and wants? It is overwhelming to think about how children take in, process, and internalize information. It is nothing short of a miracle!
So, with that in mind, I will not mention the entire bowl of cereal overturned in the living room, the unfortunate vomiting incident, and the wrestling match which all took place before lunch. We'll just chalk them up to learning experiences.
P.S. I had a wonderful birthday! Carter gave me a card he made all by himself that was covered in "X" and "O". As he gave it to me, he said, "It's what you said you wanted." Then he fulfilled each one. _And_ he referred to me as the birthday girl for two days. My wonderful parents recounted for the umpteenth time what it was like that cold, snowy day I was born, and then took me out for bison burgers in the middle of a UK basketball game! UK won! And every gift from Nathan is like winning the lottery - you can either take the gift or the cash option. It's up to you. How exciting! In case you didn't know, I'm like the Queen. We celebrate my birthday for a week, so it's not too late to get in on the festivities.
My title has nothing to do with Carter and Will. I just returned from an exciting basketball game where the Cats beat the #3 Vols. It was a beautiful thing to behold and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It's the first time in years that I didn't wear blue. I wore black. My cousin wore black. We joked about going to a funeral. In fact, at some point when I thought it was out of reach, I said "if we win this game, I'll come to the rest of the games in head to toe black." Let that be a lesson to you! Be careful what you say. But, really, I'd rather be wearing black to all the rest of the games than lose to Tennessee. I really want to call one of our friends, a UT alum and just say, "loser." But we should move on to all the kids.
Carter asked me today what I’d like for my birthday. I told him that I really just wanted a bunch of hugs and kisses. He was quiet for a moment and I thought he was disappointed with my answer. Then, he said “I know you want a bunch of hugs and kisses but I just don’t know how to wrap them.”
As we sat down to supper, Carter told me he wanted me to get my hair all cut off like a boy. I reacted dramatically which he loved and then I protested "but I'm a girl!" He cut me off and informed me "You can wear lipstick to look like a girl but have short hair like the boys!"
As supper drew to a close, Will was released from his high chair prison and allowed to climb up into my lap. After a few moments of pleasant conversation, or what Nathan calls ‘enjoying the family”, Will grabbed my fork and proceeded to make three indentations on our Pottery Barn table. I wasn’t too upset because this table has plenty of marks on it already. Nathan, however, was upset and I agreed that he needs to understand that waving a sharp object around and striking it onto any surface is not appropriate. At least not when you’re 5 days short of 18 months old. Some day he may be a lumber jack and these rules can then go up for review. Nathan smacked Will’s hand and it really wasn’t even hard. Still, Will’s face slowly clouded up and crying followed. Carter, who is probably going to get Brother of the Year said “Will, he didn’t do that because we don’t love you. We love you very much. We just need to teach you not to do bad things.” Will was still on my lap and Carter came over to my side and started rubbing Will’s head and reiterated his point, “We love you so much, Will.” I told Carter that he was such a good big brother and that he was going to be a good teacher for his little brother. At this point, Nathan must have felt badly because he commented, “I guess no one is going to notice those marks on the table.” Probably not. But every time I see them, I’ll remember the reason Carter's words.
Before Katie and I left for the game. Will sat down right next to her and worked his magic on her. She sat down right on the floor with Carter. Will got as close as he could to her and would just look up at her and smile the sweetest smile you've ever seen. Hook. Line. Sinker.
Since I’m an only chid, I asked Carter “What’s it like to have a little brother?” He smiled and said “It’s like games and playing and candy.” I never thought it would be _that_ good. No wonder he wants two more. His hints have at least become more subtle. As we watched a tv commercial this afternoon, Carter commented that they needed a van because they have 4 kids! I laughed and ‘reminded’ him “that’s what you want! FOUR kids!” He just giggled. Gotta go pray! (and get my heart back to a regular beating pattern after that game!)
It's been hard to write lately because by the time we get the boys in bed, I stumble, bleary eyed into the bed. Normally, I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow. But I had to write down some of the funny things going on.
First, there was this discussion with Carter. "Nancy, do you know about Crotty?" "Crotty? What's Crotty?" "You know...ha!-yah!" accentuate with leg kicking and arm chopping. I told him I know what it is, but I don't know how to do it. Why? "It's just cool."
Will is understanding a lot these days and can follow instructions, if he wants to. Nathan has found that if Will doesn't want to do something, he just acts like he doesn't know what we're talking about. However, if it's beneficial for his agenda, he suddenly understands. If you want him to put up a toy, he wonders around like we're speaking Hebrew. But, say "Will, would you like some candy? Go to the refrigerator." And he makes a beeline for the kitchen.
Nathan's parents gave us copies of his grandparents yearly Christmas letters, beginning in 1947. The very first one details how much havoc little 20 month old Ross (Doc) caused if not closely watched. All his misadventures sounded very similar to capers that have happened in this house featuring his two grandsons. Doesn't the Bible say in Exodus something about the sins of the father ? Notice it does not mention the sins of the mother.
Mainly, Carter has been campaigning for some more babies around this house. Last week, we were talking about how much he loves babies as I was changing Will's diaper. He said, "I love babies. We need another baby around here. But how are we going to get another one?" His lips pursed to the side and brows furrowed in concentration. He raised his index finger in the air and exclaimed "I know! I'll pray for another baby!" Then immediately "God, please give us two more babies. I just love babies." Startled by this quick turn of events, I shouted "Carter! TWO? I can barely handle you two, how will I handle two more?" He clasped his hands under his chin and pleaded "Pleeeaaaase. I really want two more." I told him that I was going to be forced to block his petition with one of my own requesting no more babies. He was highly offended that I wouldn't even consider his idea. After relating this shocking exchange to my mother, she laughed and said "I guess we'll see who is more righteous." I expect to be pregnant in the near future.
Just when I think the desire for more brothers has subsided, he slides it in the conversation. We were driving home from church and I said "Carter, I'm almost on board with the mini-van idea. They seem easier to get kids in and out of and bigger." "For the babies." I honestly thought he was referring to himself and Will, so I smiled and said "What babies?" "The babies I'm praying for." Nathan started laughing, showing some pride in his sons tenacity.
Tonight we helped Carter with his first homework assignment. It was an unfinished snowman that the family was to help decorate. I have difficulty handing over my artistic vision to a 4 year old and his father. Will was supposed to make snow flakes by dipping his finger into white paint and pressing it on the paper. He hated this job, though. He screamed and refused to push his finger down on the paper. So, he was washed up and escorted up to bed. Carter wanted to make the mouth out of coal but I'm not sure he really understands what coal is. That is astonishing for this girl from the coal fields of eastern KY. I can remember putting blocks of coal into our fire place and the sparks and the smell. But, we're talking about snowmen. Carter drew these enormous black circles for the coal mouth and made the carrot nose I'd made seem, well, not to scale. I kept mumbling my mantra "Carter's snowman. Not mine." He and his father started sticking some stickers all over it. More mantra. I sewed a red scarf on him and made a big, yellow hat. Carter asked for a feather in the hat, but since that looked like a pimp snowman, I managed to convince him that a flower was more like Frosty. Once my hat was done, flower and all, Carter said "Oh, that hat is lovely." Seriously. He said Lovely. Lovely is his new word of wonderfulness. Once we had finished, he declared the whole snowman lovely and we celebrated with some pie.
The best thing Carter said all day, was at lunch. I asked "Carter, my birthday is this week. What are you going to give me?" I expected it to be a firetruck or something super hero in nature. Instead, he got the most gorgeous look of playfulness; his eyes shone bright blue and literally twinkled, his dimples emerged and he peered up at me from his coloring and said "I can't tell you. It's secret." I wish I had a camera to capture it. It was the most beautiful I've ever seen him. Of course, he confessed he didn't really have anything for me and I laughed and told him all I wanted from him was hugs and kisses.
Well, gotta go pray.
Evel Knievel passed away recently and his daredevil spirit has come to reside in Will's body. I suspected that was the case when he climbed up, by himself, into the backyard clubhouse and then proceeded to jump the four feet to the ground. Maybe he fell. Either way, I experienced an arrythmia. After careful observation for 24 hours by his anti-acid popping mother, he showed no ill effects. His next stunt was to climb over one arm of the stuffed arm chair in the living room, stand on his head in the seat, then proceed to catapult himself over the other arm, sailing past the area rug and landing on the hard wood floor right on his forehead. This produced a slight bluish spot but that was about all. Clearly, Evel is among us. I read in a developmental stages website that he might begin trying to come back down stairs now. I was glad they alerted me to this because I wondered what he's been doing for the last 5 - 6 months sliding down on his belly. Actually, he's coming down the stairs face-forward on his bottom, one step at a time, now. Just like his older brother. Rather than being interested in descending like the article suggested, Will is now walking up the stairs and with a hand from Mama, walking down them, too.
Because of these recent events I have developed an acute case of agita. Just relating these events has caused the acid levels in my stomach to rise thereby resulting in abdominal cramping. I bet I'm getting an ulcer. Last night, when he refused to sit on the stairs and insisted upon walking up and sticking his nose through the spokes and laughing wildly, I felt light-headed. I pray the Lord will have mercy on me. Will's grandfather (Doc), reassured me that toddlers come equipped with front and side airbags.
Now if we can only get volume control! Carter and Will are the loudest children I've ever encountered. Seriously. Carter has been loud since the moment he was born. When a hospital nursery worker comments on how loud he is, you know he's loud. Then, there's Will. He tricked us (proving his early genius). He was quiet and sleepy until we brought him home. Then, he began to cry and cry. Loudly. At his 9 month check-up, Will crying earned me sympathy from his doctor. We couldn't hear each other at all and finally, when I picked him up off the examining table, the doctor said, "No wonder you pick him up." He had previously hinted that I shouldn't pick him up so quickly when Will begins to cry. I thought that Carter would grow out of this loud, shrieking kind of outburst instead, he's just become louder with age. Sometimes, he just bursts out for something trivial. The last time he did that, we were trying to get everyone into the car, and he was so loud, our neighbors across the street came out on the front porch to see what the problem was. Naturally, Nathan and I were totally ignoring Carter and going about - business as usual. I bet they have Social Services on speed dial. I finally told Carter, "I understand that sometimes you need to cry and that it makes you feel better. But could you please do it silently and with some dignity?" So, he just screamed with his lips closed. At least the neighborhood dogs stopped barking.
During all these times, I just focus on bedtime. When they go to sleep, I'm suddenly wide awake and my nerves are relaxed. I love to just look at them asleep. God made children the most beautiful when they are sleeping. They seem so peaceful and innocent and angelic with their eyes lightly pressed together and their breath quietly exhaling. That's another safety feature God installed. After a long hard day of trying to keep 2 little boys in line, they fall asleep. They are at their most vulnerable - just the moment of attack. You sneak into their rooms and just as you ready to pounce, you are overcome by their beauty and you kiss them good-night instead and forget about the important papers they used to practice scissoring and the lipstick they used to color the bathroom wall and the horribly stinky diapers that almost made you pass out. God thinks of everything!
I wish I had a camera for this but I didn't. I'm not a good enough photographer to really capture the impression fully, anyway. I'll recreate the scene with words, instead.
My parents came up Friday night, sort of impromptu, and treated us to a good meal out and then some baby-sitting. Saturday, Nathan got a surprising offer to go to the UK basketball game. Yes, yes, we have season tickets, but he'd sold these tickets earlier to one of his coworkers. My parents agreed to stick around so that I could get some much needed cleaning accomplished (last week was filled with a loooong migraine and then some kind of stomach bug). About half way through the game, the boys and my father disappeared outside. As I washed the dishes, I could see them in his car, crawling all around, pushing buttons. Not, Daddy. The boys. Daddy was sitting still. He just lets them have the run of the car and I'm not sure if the settings ever get back to where they were.
I decided to venture out to the SUV and ask a favor. As I turned into the driveway, the blinkers were flashing, the wipers were wiping, and I couldn't help but think it was rocking, ever so slightly. I stepped to the window, peeking in to see Will on my father's left leg, vigorously turning the steering wheel and pressing all the buttons thereon contained. Carter on Daddy's right, cocked head back, gulping some Coca cola. My father was smiling. I pecked on the window and neither of my boys seemed to recognize this signal to cease and desist. Daddy rolled down the window. Will glanced over to me as he began reaching for more and different buttons on the dash board. Carter removed the can from his mouth and Coke trickled down his chin in a thin stream from his Cheshire grin. After my request was made, the window slowly raised and Will and Carter continued their reign of power over the Chevy.
Now, why was dear ole dad smiling, I wondered as I ambled back into the house, happy it wasn't my car. Could he really be that happy to watch his grandsons exploring, investigating, and tasting their world? Maybe. But more than likely, he was smiling because he was going to get to turn them over to me, wound up, and fully caffeinated.
Earlier this week, Carter said so many hilarious things and I vowed to remember them and when my illness subsided, faithfully record them all. Of course, I don't remember now. I do remember that he said the blessing one night at supper, "God, thank you for Jesus, and thank you for Jesus again. And thank you that even though you don't give us the power to fly, you give us the power to fly in a plane." That was it. I guess he forgot about the food.
By Thursday, his search for a wife had reached a crucial point. He no longer wants to marry Bella-Claire and he will just be a fireman. I told him what my Daddy told me until I got engaged, "you can live with me as long as you want." He asked if we could make cookies every day and I assured him we could. I know he won't stay with me forever, but it's always nice to offer.
Will's amazing discovery this week is that he can actually wave with only his index finger. His thumb and other three fingers spread out and he curls and uncurls his pointer with laughter and wonder. You can always tell when he's doing it in the car because giggles emanate from the back seat.
Stock tip for the day: Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. I used up one wiping away fingerprints from trim, stair rail, kitchen, and bathroom. Oh, and a pen mark on the living room wall. *narrowing eyes at the small blond-headed monkey running by* Now it's time to remove the finger prints all over my computer screen before he comes back.
Carter is stressed out. He told me that he can't marry me because I'm already married. He can't marry Grayson because she is his cousin. And on top of these horrible let downs, now Bella-Claire says she won't marry him, either. I have tried to tell him over the last couple of weeks that he has 25 years to think about who he might marry. I reminded him today that he's only 4 and no one ever finds out who they're going to marry at 4. He remained sullen and muttered, "I guess I'll just have to be a fireman." Apparently, firemen don't get married.
When I told Nathan about Carter's plight at supper, Nathan said, "Oh don't worry about who you're going to marry Carter. When you grow up, you just worry about being you and God will make is clear who you will marry." Carter, mulled this over seriously for a second and replied, "I know God wants me to get married but I _just_ don't_know_who_."
Meanwhile, I'm sitting across from him biting my lips together and trying my hardest to be as sober and grave as the subject required. I asked him how he asked Bella-Claire about someday marrying him and he said he didn't ask her, he "just sorta told her." I explained that he should probably be patient and work on his delivery. I'm not sure why he decided Bella would be his new choice. Wait, don't get me wrong - she is one of the most beautiful little girls I've ever seen and she's sweet, too. But, he's never seemed especially attached to her before. They've been in nursery, Sunday School, and now pre-school together, so I'd say he is most familiar with her. I've put a picture of Carter and Bella up from a day last month when she came home after school to play with us.
Will has another tooth!! That makes 3, so only 4 more. I'm just now getting used to him walking all the time. I don't know if I'm ready for a fuller mouth look. Carter pronounced him "the cutest baby I've ever seen" and I whole-heartedly agree.
I guess I better go pray for Carter's future wife, now. *sigh*
I've not written in awhile. As the title suggests, I've been in the path of the Perfect Storm. Or was I the perfect storm. *shrug* Both, I suppose. The last week in this house caused some serious introspection. That's always painful for the one in the line of self-awareness. But, I'm wandering into the philosophical and this is about reality.
Carter really is a super kid. I am lucky to have him for a son and humbled to be one to nurture his personality. Not that he's perfect -not by a long shot. But neither am I.
This past week was rather tumultuous and torturous. Will was cutting his two lower 1 year molars. Of course, I didn't know this information at the time. He cried and wanted constant attention. Accomplishing tasks was stifled by his pressing need for comfort. Well, sure. Two big, sharp bone like rocks are pushing through gums. But when you don't know that, it seems like there is something seriously and mysteriously awry with your little one. I spent most of the day watching him for any signs of distress that would prompt me to call the doctor. He had no fever. He would stop crying and act just fine if his express desires were strictly followed. Marshmallows, mandarin oranges, fruit loops - anything sweet - but don't give him any food that might actually be nutritious. Oh, and ice chips. After the third time he tried to hi-jack my ice - not the drink -I had a fleeting thought that he might be finally cutting one of the seven teeth that bulged under his gums. So, my house looked like Santa's workshop threw-up and Will was miserable and I was getting nothing done and it was really cold and no one was getting sleep at night because Will was miserable. After 4 nights of severely interrupted sleep, I looked and felt like a zombie. Well, I can only hypothesize about how a zombie feels but I bet this was close.
A bucket of water was accidentally spilled and this incident was the one the tipped my scales of sanity. Marbles began pouring out my ears. I lost my temper and then I felt guilty and embarrassed about the way I'd acted, so I began to sob. That probably scared Carter more than the temper. He asked me if I was okay. I told him that I was just sad and frustrated. He said "I need to be alone" and slipped into my bathroom. I heard him in there talking. My tears subsided as I accepted my mental and emotional breakdown and resolved to move forward. Carter reappeared and he began making faces and doing funny dances. I started laughing and said "Carter, what are you doing ??" He smiled really widely and said "Mama, I'm trying to help you feel better." I smiled bigger and said "Well, it's working!" Then I asked him what he was doing in my bathroom. I knew, but I wanted to hear what he said "I was praying for God to help you." I reassured him that his prayers worked and that I was feeling better. I told him I was sorry I lost my temper and he said "Oh, it's okay. I'm not upset." I was amazed at how my child was ministering to me - and not in just the incidental way we parents usually mention but in a deliberate way. The rest of the day was mellower but not happy. Will continued his painful march into the land of the toothed.
That night it happened. Will slept all the way until 6:30, then went back to sleep until 8:30. When I opened my eyes and realized that I'd had more than 2 consecutive hours of sleep, those crazy marbles began to find their way back. Will was being so pleasant, eating what was given to him and being playful, it was dream-like. Maybe I hadn't really awakened. But I had! I took him in to change his diaper and got a glimpse of his gums. He does not allow anyone to look at his gums. He's very private that way. I try to sneak peeks all the time and he catches on immediately and fusses at me. But this time, I was not to be denied. Two new little pearls poking through. I wasn't crazy! Will was just cutting his molars! It was relieving and oddly reassuring. Our home life made a dramatic turn around. How could two little teeth cause so much chaos and damage? Damages? One Swiffer Wet Jet gave his life. He will be sorely missed.
PS I just slipped upstairs to tuck Carter in for the night. He said "I love you because you are the best mama I ever met!" I told him that was only because he was the best kid I'd ever met. And it's true.
Today was frustrating because Will has a cold and is cutting 7 teeth. That means he has lots of drainage and coughs a lot. He was constantly hungry but wouldn't eat much when things were offered to him. He really only wanted marshmallows. By 5:00 p.m., I was seriously tempted to relent and present him with the whole bag of stale jumbo marshmallows. As a result of his condition, he followed me around, whining and crying, holding on to my legs so I couldn't move and wiping his snotty nose on my knees. *sigh* I was so happy when he fell asleep easily.
Carter, by stark contrast, was so good today. He was obliging and low key. He has been struggling at big family parties. When we went to his grandparents Christmas family get-together, he immediately said he needed to be alone. He found a quiet place and stayed there for quite some time. It was good to see him back to his sweet self today. But while at the family get-together, he saw his oldest cousin Grayson (age 7) in the dress-up wedding gown and was transfixed by her beauty. Now, Grayson is already his hero. I'm not sure he's aware he has 3 other cousins most of the time. So, he promptly announced that he was marrying Grayson and proceeded to walk with her holding hands. Sure, it was a little embarrassing, but I was happy it was Grayson who said their cousin Clara Cate could be their first baby. I'm not sure Clara Cate was thrilled with that appointment. His cousin Baker tried to take Grayson's other hand and claim to marry her too, but Carter deftly fended him off and retained the bride for himself.
Well, and that brings us to tonight. He'd been helpful and loving all day. His little brother was asleep and we'd just brushed his teeth. I was lying on the bed and he comes over and hugs my legs, then announces, "When you change those pants, I'll hug you some more." I thought maybe they smelled like lime from one I had squeezed earlier. He doesn't like that smell. I asked why he didn't like my pants. That's when he explained, "I don't like them. They don't look good." I was stunned. I just sat there for a second. But, as usual, curiosity prevailed and I followed him to the kitchen and asked "What's wrong with my pants?" "Well, I don't like the squares and the blue." (they're a small blue plaid) "Really?"
"You're shirt is okay. I like that." (It's a gray sweatshirt) "Uhm. Okay. I can't believe you don't like the pants." "Sorry."
"I like these pants." "Well, I guess they're okay. I like blue. I guess squares are okay. I mean, they have four sides and I'm 4." I told him "No, no. You don't have to like them. It's okay." I don't think my clothing is supposed to be unacceptable to my child until he's at least 12.
