4/11/2012

Monthly Miles Memo #51

Filed under: — Aprille @ 4:09 pm

Dear Miles,

At a recent birthday party, our friend was bemoaning her lot in life as the mother of two girls.  “The drama,” she said.  “All the drama.“  I’m not sure a flair for the dramatic can be so neatly divided down gender lines, though, because things have been pretty rollercoastery around here lately.

You feel everything so, so deeply.  The strangest things will make you burst into tears, like today as we were eating lunch and you realized you’d done an alternate version of a verse in a song from school.  Two nights you had a huge meltdown on the topic of ibuprofen.  You’d fallen down and possibly jammed your thumb and wrist at the playground, and your dad wanted you to take ibuprofen (which you’ve had lots of times and know you like).  You refused, but your dad was holding his ground.  I saw his point:  he was trying to reinforce the idea that there are some times that Mommy and Daddy get to make the decision.  I was coming down more on the side of, “It’s his body.  If he doesn’t want pain relief, let him deal with it.”

In the end, we compromised.  I was afraid you were going to cry so hard you’d make yourself throw up, and not because of pain in your wrist.  Your dad backed off, and eventually you consented to the ibuprofen after you’d calmed down.  To be honest, I think the issue was more of a scrape than a wrist jam, so the ibuprofen was probably pointless.

In another attempt to be logical with you, your dad has started playing the Stubborn Game.  That’s a game in which you suggest something reasonable and he insists on the opposite for no good reason (art imitating life and all).  You get a kick out of it, and maybe you’re beginning to understand his ulterior motive.  One time you wanted to play the Stubborn Game with me, and I said, “No, and you can’t make me.”

That made you cry.  Fantastic.

Your strong emotions go the other way, too.  You’re a hoot when you dance and sing your songs from school.  We went out to your Nana and Papa’s farm last weekend, and you were so sweet and affectionate with your grandparents.  You had an amazing time playing on the farm, jumping off hay bales and riding with Papa on the four-wheeler.  When it was time to go, only a promise of a visit from the Easter bunny could drag you away, and even then, you really wanted to bring Nana and Papa with us.

You’re getting more independent, too.  You’re always proud of yourself when you get dressed on your own, and though you prefer to have help with bathroom tasks, you can do it by yourself when you must.  I think mostly you’re just very fond of routine, and even when you’re capable of doing something, you like your dad or me to help you if that’s how we’ve always done it.  I can sympathize.  I have trouble with change sometimes too, but it’s also important to learn flexibility.  You’re getting better at that, and I know you’ll continue to grow.

Your favorite new(ish) game is “Tobin Talk,” in which you demand that your dad or I talk in a squeaky voice and dictate Tobin’s presumed thoughts.  You do seem to want to play Tobin Talk at the most inopportune times, like when we’re in the parking ramp, trying to get the stroller collapsed and smashed into the trunk of the car, and someone wants our parking spot, and he’s screaming his head off.  It drives your dad and me crazy, because those are not the moments we feel like putting on a fake voice and describing the situation; we just want to get it finished and move out.

I think it’s a way for you to make sense of the world, though.  By asking us to do Tobin Talk, it forces us to slow down and talk over what’s happening.  It’s also sometimes a good way to get you to open up.  If “Tobin” asks, you’ll explain the rationale behind a rule.  It’s nice to know you get it, even though you don’t always want to follow the rules that apply to you.  Sharing is a challenge, both with your brother and other kids.  It’s probably no coincidence that this trait is emerging just as Tobin is getting grabbier.  You’ve gotten territorial about toys you never cared about before Tobin showed interest in them.

That said, I am happy that I can once again report that you’re always kind and gentle with Tobin.  You may yank a toy away from him, but you’d never hurt him or yell at him.  He smiles and laughs when you sing and dance for him.  You’re great for providing a few minutes of entertainment while I try to accomplish a household task or two.  When I thought about having a second child, I was worried about how much more work it would be than just having you.  It’s true, it’s more work, and I have less time and energy than I used to.  But one thing I didn’t anticipate was the value-add of a fascinating older sibling.  Tobin could just stare and stare at you, and you’re a good sport about it most of the time.

I had to stop this post midway, because we had such a rough day yesterday that I just didn’t have the energy or the kindness of spirit to write anything tender.  I know it’s rough on you too.  You’re learning so much and growing so fast, and you get stressed out like everyone else.  Today you’re my sweet little guy again, and it’s easy to regain my perspective.  On days like this, I want you stay 51 months old forever.  On days like yesterday, well…I’m glad I have your father.

We’ll make it.  I love you, my little skinny-butt boy.

Mommy

 

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