Tapping in or simply synthesis?

I can't tell you how many times since Jax has been born that he does or says something that throws us for a loop.

As he gets older, his thoughts and sayings tend to be more well-developed and thought-out theories on various things:

• why the plants grow the way they do
• whether that tiny gecko on the carpet in the middle of the hallway is simply hurt or scared
• why that tiny gecko is in our house
  
  

Everything has a reason for being or doing and Jax often knows, or thinks he knows, the answer. Often times he's right. A lot of times he's not. Sometimes, he is just plain cute.

Take, for example, this little gem from his birthday morning:

(Looking at his feet)-"Mom, I can look at my feet and tell that I'm 4 today. They look 4."

To me, this seemed a fairly normal, innocuous preschooler musing. Quite adorable, for sure.

But, when 5 minutes later, I was hearing his musings over reincarnation, I was, understandably, picking pieces of grey matter out of my hair:

(With the most serious face I have seen on this little jokester in a while): "Mom, when people die, their spirit leaves their body and joins up with all the other spirits-the people and the animals-and it becomes the force. If people come back alive with their spirit, it's with different bones that are growed together."

My first thought: "What? Did he just say that?"

My second thought: "We read too much Star Wars."

My third thought: "Did he really just say that? Wow. Can there BE too much Star Wars? I love this kid. Dang. I gotta post this on Facebook!" (haha!)

In all seriousness though, when I hear these types of comments or have these types of conversations with him, it's hard for me to fathom where he is going to be later on his journey. If he is already contemplating life and having mini epiphanies at the ripe old age of 4...man. He's got so much to teach us!

And yes, I share these Jaxisms and quotes from him as a partial brag. It's true. I do want some praise from the masses on the interwebs telling me that my kid is awesome. But honestly, in a lot of ways, I really just want feedback. I want to know how to foster this sense of...whatever it is so that he doesn't lose it. I want to know how far is too far to push him? What is he really capable of? Am I just biased, or is he really that amazing?

Who am I kidding? Of course he's amazing. He's my kid. But, you know what I mean...how do I help him be him without expecting too much?

Jaxism...

Upon having my Lego knight knocked off my horse, I claimed I was second winner. Jax said HE was second winner. I said he was first winner and I was second. He said he was both. So...what does that make me?

A Jedi Master or Simply a Wise Youngling?

"Kids say the darndest things", don't they? I see this old adage played out daily in our house. We often write down what Jax says, his little 'Jaxisms' and I've noticed that there are a few different categories of these -isms. 

For your reading pleasure:

1. "oh-my-gosh-you-just-said-that-I-am-so-embarrassed" 
2. "awwwww-that's-so-insanely-sweet"
3. "you-are-so-gross"
4. "wow-you-understood-that"
5. "I-don't-know-how-to-respond-to-that"

Sometimes their honesty and lack of awareness of social norms is surprising and quite humorous. Here is a perfect example of category #1:

Jax: Seeing a larger lady walk by and pointing, "Mom, she is fat. Why is she fat?"

Me: "Well, Jaxon, all people are different. It's not about what she looks like, it's about who she is." 

[Well, what was I supposed to say to that?]

Jax: "Well, who is she?"

Me: "I don't know."

Geez. Let's see. What might he have learned from that exchange?...'She must not be important then if it's about who she is and we don't know her.' Way to go me! [d'oh!]

...And, #2:

Jax: "Mom, you are my favorite mommy. I just love you. You are special to me. You're the only mommy we have."

Me: melting heart

#3:

Jax: "We should put some poop on it. That would be funny....I'm just kidding! That would be disgusting! Ewww!"

Me: "Ummm, yeah. That's gross. Let's not do that."

And sometimes, they completely understand everything you've been trying to teach them and they have internalized it so well, they've come up with their own versions of those lessons. Category #4:

Jax, over the course of a morning snuggle: 

"If you don't listen to your parents, they will get frustrated."

"If you listen to your parents, they won't get upset."

"If you punch your parents they will put you in time out."

[That last one really got me!]

Me: "Why are we even talking about this?"

Jax: "We are just having a conversation, Mom."

...And, #5:

Other times, it's surprising how well they grasp their own feelings...even if it is after the fact.

Me, as I'm putting Jax to bed after a difficult dinner and bath: "Jax, I need you to do a better job of listening and being helpful."

Jax: "But sometimes, when I'm 3, it's just too hard for me to do that. Sometimes when I wake up, and I have to help it makes me so tired and I get frustrated. It is hard to do that and I get frustrated."

I can see this last piece is directly from all the help I have been needing from pretty much everyone around me recently. I really like to be able to do things on my own, the way I like to do them. Unfortunately, with a broken foot and limited mobility, it takes me longer to do anything and I need help with things I previously didn't need help with. Clearly, my need for help is a little more than a 3 year old can handle. Or at least a little more than he is ready to give.

Duly noted.

So I ask you...Youngling? Padawan? or Jedi?

How to Wear Star Hores Shoes...

It has to start somewhere, right?

Life...ideas...your morning.

And often, it starts in a pretty good place.
Daddy!  Mommy! I love you!

Too bad it doesn't always end up there.
But I don't wanna:
a) go to school today.
b) get dressed right now.
c) brush my teeth.

The rest of that sentence doesn't matter because the end result will be the same regardless.

Unless I change it.

And truth be told, I am a terrible changer of the end result. I often can't see past the black and white.

This is what time it is. I need you to do this so we can leave... If we don't do this, we will be late...You aren't being helpful...If we don't move faster, we will be late...These are all the things we still need to do...Please be helpful...I don't want to be late. 

In reading the words I just typed, I can see that they can build a sense of anxiety. But it's what goes on in my mind and what often comes out of my mouth as I am trying to get the two of us, el Jedi and myself, ready to leave in the mornings.

Once the "We're Late" switch has gone off, I get a sense of "Oh Shit" and start rushing around. Orders fly from my lips. I'm gathering things and piecing things together with the speed of someone who has been doing this for years upon years. And I expect anyone with me to either move out of the way, or rush along with me.

I forget that it's not as easy for someone who has only been in this world for a mere fraction of the time I have. It can't be easy being 3. Or being my son.

But it's not easy being a mom either. And a mom of a 3 year old who has his own sense of what he wants to do when he wants to do it (regardless of our day's agenda), has a tough time maintaining the calm serenity that I feel like I am supposed to have. I know, that's every kid, right?

I get so tired of dealing with the stubborn-ness and the lack of following directions that I tend to give up in the struggle. I walk away from the confrontation to go do what I need to get done and leave Jax to his own devices. Unfortunately, that doesn't achieve the desired result of getting things done. All it achieves is more whining and crying--usually from the aforementioned preschooler...but sometimes from me, too.

It is definitely not a great way to start off your morning. Especially when it began so nicely.
The thing that sucks is that it feels like these behaviors are worse when it's just Jax and me. He seems to do better for his daddy. And that hurts. I feel like I deserve the same amount of "respect" from my son as he gives his daddy. It's just different between boys and their moms. And sometimes it's not always a good sort of different.

I guess the positive is that I am learning, albeit slowly, to see where the little divergences in our path lie. The places where I can change the outcome to a more positive one. It's not easy for me to see it, but I'm getting better at it.

Case in point?
Jax: Mommy...if I be helpful this morning, can I wear my Star Hores shoes to school?
Me: Ok. But you have to be super helpful. Really, really helpful. So we will put our shoes on last to make sure you remember I need you to be helpful. Ok?
Jax: Sure! I get to wear my Star Hores shoes!

After a few almost standoffs and shutdowns, the power of the "Star Hores" shoes prevailed. I got my help (That's a LOT of helping, Mom.) and he got to wear his shoes.

Like I said. I'm learning.

A Study in Logic and Denial

Jax is officially a 3-yr old preschool child. A “big kid”. No longer a cuddly baby. Or cute toddler. He is 3. Years. Old.

He has opinions and he shares them…vehemently sometimes.

He is loud. I swear I think he’s the loudest kid in his school. Purposely.

He roars. You should check out his T-Rex impersonation.

He picks his boogers.

And sometimes, yes…he eats them.

He is a preschooler on fire. Vibrant and full of life.

And unfortunately, at this moment, a bit of a follower.

I think of Jax as being a leader. The one others will flock to because he lets you know of his existence the moment you meet him.  And I’m sure in some way part of the reason I think of him in this manner is because I WANT him to be a leader. But, I guess even would-be-leaders have to follow others at some points in time. 

I got my first call from Jax’s teacher a few weeks ago. The call started with, “We can’t always protect our children.” How’s that for an opening statement? My heart was beating wildly, my mind flying through all the possible horrors that could have befallen my monkey. She then proceeded to let me know of 3-year-old-style deviant behavior Jax was currently pursuing. Name-calling. Talking. Pushing. Not the life-threatening horrors I was picturing [Thank goodness!], but not exactly good either.

The first two sounded like my monkey. I got it. I understood. But the pushing? That didn’t sound like him at all. Surely that’s not my kid [I thought it, but didn’t say it.]. All this coupled with the fact that another child—older, charismatic—was influencing (negatively, mind you) my monkey. Part of me was relieved that it wasn’t internally produced—this deviance. And part of me was upset that he had chosen to follow someone else...to the dark side. And no, there are no cookies there. I don’t care what the common rabble think. At least not any good ones.

After a “stern talking to”, and an apology note “written”, off to school we went. Good, positive choices were made that day and a few more immediately following. But then came the disruptions and the name calling again. At this point, I’m thinking why is this happening now? And what are we going to do about it? You don’t want to make such a big deal about something that may not be a big deal in the long run. But you also want to let them know that certain things are unacceptable. It is our job as parents to ensure that we are raising responsible, kind people. They are the ones inheriting the world from us after all.

And then, I find out he missed both of his recesses on one of these “deviant days”. The first for reported name-calling and the second for disrupting circle time. I agree with consequences but he didn’t even know what the consequences were for when I talked to him. And that defeats the whole purpose of the consequence. I also feel like missing TWO opportunities for outside play in one day for things that are not exactly the “worst” is kind of excessive. Is there not any middle ground? Is there not the possibility of separating my monkey from the silver-tongued offender? He can’t make the right choice when faced with something that seems more fun and intriguing at the moment. It’s simply not fair. He needs some help in that area. He’s only 3.

And what makes it hard is that I’m seeing it from the viewpoint of not only a parent, but also the teacher. I understand the difficulties that can arise from too much disruption in the classroom. Geez, I deal with it on a daily basis from my middle school students. One kid gets off-track and it starts a chain reaction. If you can’t block it before it goes too far, the whole class is in uproarious laughter and talking in ridiculously loud voices and there you are standing at the front of the room, pissed off with your hands on your hips…and nothing nice to say. Not a good place to be when it’s only the 2^nd class of the day.

And I definitely understand the difficulty of working with a stubborn pre-school child.  Especially a cute red head like Jax. He’s mine. I get it. But…he’s MINE.  I don’t want him getting into trouble and being a troublemaker.

I want him cute.

And sweet.

And perfect.

I know. It’s logically impossible. No one’s perfect. You live and learn. Making mistakes. Crossing boundaries. Breaking hearts. It’s the experiences we have that make us who we are and make us better able to handle the different situations and people we will encounter throughout our lives.

It’s just that I don’t want him to be one of THOSE kids.

I don’t want to get the constant calls home about his disruptions or about how he isn’t trying hard enough and not living up to his potential. I don’t want to hear about Jax doing some of the things that I see and hear about kids doing. Kids who seek to constantly push the line. I know he’s going to do it. We all do. I just want him to rebel with a modicum of sensibility. And I guess…to be honest, I just don’t want to be disappointed in him.

I know, I know.

Logically impossible. 

Mommy!!!

I’m glad I am not raising an apathetic, vegetable of a kid. Nope. My Jax is assertive about what he wants and isn’t afraid to entertain you. He is independent and very vocal. These are great qualities overall, but they are traits that can lead to confrontation when what HE wants isn’t what I want to give him.

Take for instance, naptime on the weekends. I want him to take a nap.  In fact, I often need him to take a nap. And despite what he would lead us to believe, he needs one too. His body needs the rest. But over the last few weeks he has been a lot more stubborn about the need to take a nap. He has fought it more and more. While it’s true that in so many ways Jax often seems ahead of the curve, I can’t believe that he is so far ahead of the curve that he is no longer in need of a nap. He’s not even 3 yet. I refuse to believe that.

Truth be told, he has been doing this to an extent since he gave up his morning nap and switched to 1 nap a day. Ideally this one nap would be a “longer” one (I know some kids who take 3+ hour-naps), but on weekends, we are lucky to get an hour out of the little monkey, much less 2. It’s like he is so worried he is going to miss out on something, so he fights it. And while I understand not wanting to miss something, it is very frustrating to be the one dealing with the repercussions of a no-nap-taking-toddler…especially one who has proven himself to be assertive, independent, and quite vocal. Take this “fight” and add an exhausted Mommy or Daddy and you have a recipe for disaster.

Unfortunately, the stubborn resolve about naps has bled over into bedtime at night. And that is definitely NOT a good thing. Not good for Jax. And not good for the sanity of the parents of said toddler. Here’s a taste of how bedtime went just a couple of days ago:

Bath? Check.

Books? Read.

Snuggles? Snugged.

Toddler? Tucked in and kissed.

Me? Taking a deep breath, and a little “me time” before I get things ready for the morning. Minutes later, I hear the Jax’s door open and the padding of toddler feet as he peeks into the office at me. “Mommy, I need go potty.” Off we go to the restroom. Clean hands, toddler tucked in and kissed, “Night-Night. Sweet dreams,” I say. Back to the office I go to continue my much-needed “me time”.

Again, minutes later, I hear the Jax’s door. Here he comes into the office. “Mommy, I need go potty.” Off we go to the restroom. Again. This time I tell him he shouldn’t need to go again (this being the 4^th time since bath…). “Ok, Mommy,” Jax says. Clean hands, toddler tucked in and kissed, “Night-Night. Sweet dreams,” I say. Back to the office I go to continue my “me time”—that I haven’t really even gotten to start, mind you. But do I get to start it? No. No, I don’t. I can’t even count how many times Jax got out of bed, ostensibly to “potty”. Sometimes he asked for water. Sometimes he asked for snuggles. Sometimes he asked for food. But he kept leaving his room. A great part of this ordeal was filled with crying and screaming from my little guy. I was beyond frustrated.

I tried a variety of things, but none of them seemed to work.

I ignored him. He would just stand at the office door crying at me.

I told him to go potty and tuck himself back into bed.

I guided him back to his room without eye contact or words, with him screaming and crying the entire time.

A few times I physically picked him up and put him in the bed.

But, nothing seemed to work.

Like I said…I was beyond frustrated. Jax ended up crying himself to sleep, which hasn’t happened in a long time. I ended up drinking a beer….and debated putting a lock on Jax’s door.

After much thought, reading, and discussions with Daddy and a friend at work, I decided something would need to be done. As much as a lock sounded like a potentially good thing, it also sounded like a potentially bad thing. And you can’t put a shock collar or your little one to keep them from crossing the boundaries of their rooms…I mean, you can’t, can you? No, of course you can’t.

So, we decided to have Jax help create some rules for sleep time. And he helped decide on a reward for following those rules. I’m not sure how it is all going to turn out in the end. Night 1 was a success. It could just be a fluke. I don’t know. But we’re gonna give it a go and see what happens.

I guess that’s what this whole parenting thing is all about, huh? 

Addicted

Mornings. You either love them or you hate them. I don't enjoy waking up early. Never have…except on Christmas morning or my birthday when I was younger. And I still do not relish the idea of getting up early. But the possibility of “hating” it hinges on the whims of another.

Another, who is…short in stature, and often short in patience as well. Another, whose mood can change at the drop of a hat…the flick of a switch…or the utterance of a phrase as simple as, “No. Today is a school day. We can’t watch Sesame Street and snuggle.”

It’s true. Jaxon is addicted.

To snuggling.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was simply a matter of a few minutes taken out of our morning to snuggle and say I love you, now let’s get dressed. Or, if it was just a few minutes to explain why today is a weekday, NOT a weekend. And that no, we can’t get all snuggly, but yes we will on Saturday. Here’s a big hug, now let’s get ready. 

But, of course, that’s not how it usually goes. Instead, what we get is one of two possible options: 1) almost meltdown or 2) complete meltdown. Neither of these options results in a happy, ready-to-face-the-morning-and-middle-schoolers Mommy.

Take Thursday morning—a perfect example of the complete meltdown, Jaxon-style.

Jax: (crying, whiney, waking up) I waaaaant Mommmmeeeeeeee!

Me: (walking in, sitting in the chair, waking up) Good morning Jaxon. How are you?

Jax: (scrambling out of bed to give me a “snuggle hug”, still whiney) I good. I love you, Mommy. We not going to school today?

Me: I love you too, sweetie. No. We’re going to school today. Today is a school day. It’s Thursday.

Jax: (whiney voice gets whinier) I don’t want go to school. I want stay here. (starts crying)

Me: Well, sweetie, Mommy has to go to work today and it’s a school day for you. You like school. You have fun there.

Jax: (crying, fussing) NO! I don’t want go to school. I want stay here.

Things escalate a little here, but we decide we can make our way to the kitchen to get a smoothie (part of the morning routine). Things seem to be better. Smoothie is mixed, vitamins given. All seems forgiven.

Jax: (whiney) I want watch Sesame Street. I want snuggle you. On couch.

Me: Jax, we can’t watch Sesame Street today. Today is Thursday. We only watch Sesame Street on Saturday or Sunday. Not today.

Jax: (grumpy, whiney) But I want to.

Me: We can’t today, Jax. Today is Thursday. Tomorrow is Friday. Then comes Saturday. THEN, on Saturday, we can watch it. [Notice…I avoid mentioning the snuggle, because I don’t want to set him off again.]

Jax: (whiney, crying) I want snuggle you. [But, there it is.]

Me: Sweetie, we have to get ready now. I can give you some snuggle hugs, but we can’t snuggle on the couch. [Don’t judge me here…snuggling means at least 20 minutes that we just don’t have in the mornings. Sad, but true.]

Jax: (crying)

Me: You can snuggle Daddy in the bed while I get dressed. Ok?

Jax: (sits on the floor) NO!

Me: C’mon, Jax. It’s ok. You love to snuggle Daddy in the nice, warm bed.

Jax: NO!

Me: Ok…Well, I’m going to get ready. You can come with me and snuggle Daddy if you want. Or you can stay here. It’s your choice.

Slight escalation here, but he decides to come to the bedroom to snuggle while I get ready. Unfortunately, when we’ve already had more than one almost-meltdown, everything he tries to do becomes problematic. He suddenly “can’t” do things. He won’t even try and starts fussing and crying about every little thing. Like suddenly not being able to climb into the bed. Or, like going to the bathroom to potty.

He tells me he needs to go potty, but for whatever reason, refuses to go. I walk him in there, but now he won’t go. Ok, fine. Let him be stubborn. I go get his clothes.

Me: (walking back into the bathroom) JAX!!?? What are you doing?

Jax: hmmmff (he has just peed on the floor…purposefully)

Me: Oh, Jax…why did you do that? You know how to use the potty. Now we have to clean that up.

Jax: No! I not!

Me: Yes, you are. You made the mess, you clean it up. (I walk out before I get angrier)

     I am baffled. Now Daddy’s awake and involved, Jax is crying, and I’m grumpy. Help! I’ve created a monster. A snuggle monster, to be exact.  Is this what it comes down to these days? You can’t SNUGGLE me so the end result is peeing on the floor, crying, and yelling?? Really? Wow. Oh, happy morning!

 

A meltdown is not what you picture when you’re pregnant, feeling little baby kicks like the flutter of wings inside your belly. It’s not what you envision as you smell that “baby smell” on the top of your newborn’s head as he sleeps in your arms. And it’s not what you think of while you’re kissing your two-year-old and singing together before bed.

But it happened. Looking back on it, I think, “What could I have done differently to have had a different result?” The obvious answer seems to be to have snuggled on the couch. It shouldn’t come as surprise that snuggling on school mornings does not, in fact, work. At least, not in whole. It does seem to prevent COMPLETE meltdowns, but occasionally results in almost or partial meltdowns. This kid is a true addict.  You take away his morning snuggle time and he goes primal.

So, is it surprising that the morning ended positively? After the meltdown and subsequent floor cleaning, as Jax was getting dressed, he looked at me and said, “I listening to you now, Mommy. I making good choices now. You are happy?”

As I told him I wasn’t quite “happy” yet but I was working on it, I saw the flicker of a meltdown begin to come back into the sweet, innocent features. I prepared myself for the worst. He opened his mouth and said, “I making good choices now. You are happy, Mommy?”

These are loaded words. I realize that Jaxon is not simply asking if I am truly happy at that given moment. He is asking if HE has MADE ME happy. In the brief instant before I responded, I replayed the situation that just happened…I thought of the potential for further disruptions to my morning…and my mood. I knew what I had to do. I hugged him and said, “Yes, Jaxon. I am happy now.”