Remembering how my little boy is awesome.

I know that much of my blog has been devoted to my firstborn and his exploits, but it’s been harder to concentrate on his awesomeness recently.

His baby sister is settling into life, now that she’s past the six-week mark (almost twelve pounds now!), but she still takes up lots of time, and she is the reason we are so often shushing him, warning him, asking him to be careful, gentle, etc. etc. (Well, not quite – there are other reasons he needs to be careful, but he knows those already. The new reasons compound the old ones.)

I feel bad, because it seems like we’re constantly on his case – and I’m sure it seems that way to him, too. That would, I assume, be why he has taken to pounding on couch cushions (which we encourage as an expression of frustration), hitting Mummy or Daddy (which we discourage), and screaming “NOOOOOOO!!!” at the top of his lungs (which just gets him more shushing and usually removal from the room).

He’s not like that every moment, of course – we have lots of good times, but even then, there are so many things to do that he doesn’t get nearly as much undivided attention as I wish I could give him. In fact, “undivided” has pretty much fallen off the boat of possibilities, at least where Mummy is concerned.

Except when we’ve gone out. Yesterday and today I took him with me on short errands while A was napping and Daddy was home, and it was really fun. (Takes twice as long, of course, but whatever.) He was so good, and so cute – and when I’m out in the big world, without his relatively tiny sister along, I remember how little he still is, in the grand scheme of things.

Yesterday we went to get gifts for our midwives (discharge visit was today, *sniff*) at an eclectic international gift-type shop, and E was very well-behaved. He looked at all the stuff at his eye-level – a fascinating array of scarves, belly rings, and sculptures – and he carried his pony around and saw what it looked like atop the head of each Hindu god (Ganesh was definitely there, but I couldn’t remember whether the other guy was Shiva or Vishnu – it’s been a long time since my Hindu art and culture course). He noted which ones were happy and which were sad – and which had curly hair.

Today, we went to the drug store. Even though I had to tell him approximately seventeen times, “No, we’re not buying that,” it was still fun. Partly because he kept mistaking things for other things, and partly because he kept wanting to get presents for his sister.

leap frog leaptop green pink
“We can get this for the baby! And Daddy can have the green one.”
“Mama, can we get some markers?”
“Hey! Let’s buy these carrots!”

This last one made me kinda proud. I explained to E that these were not carrots, but he rebutted with the information that they were round and orange, just like the carrots he eats. Can’t deny he’s right.

The best part was as I was checking out – we had to wait a few extra minutes for my photos to be printed, and I realized E was hanging around by the automatic exit door. I asked if he was okay, and he said, “Yeah. I’m the operator, opening the door.” I watched him, and sure enough, he would step in front of the door to make it slide open each time someone approached. Such an enterprising chap.

The three-year-old doorman.
Don’t worry about stepping on that sensor. It’s taken care of.



10 thoughts on “Remembering how my little boy is awesome.

  1. Krista says:

    LOL. I love that you have a child who mistakes junk food for vegetables! (And it’s also pretty cool that he has some sound reasoning behind it.)

    • diblog says:

      Krista, me too. It’s in those moments that I realize how innocent he still is, and it squeezes my heart. In a good way.

  2. Beth Lopez says:

    Here’s a teacher story I think you’ll like. Your doorman reminded me. Every year, as I get to know my class, I look for something in each one that would make me love them: a special smile, a kindness, curiosity, humour – you know. One year I had a little guy that eluded me. He was annoying, a bit of a bully, just not an attractive child. In May, I took the class on a walk around the neighbourhood. We were walking across a field and then down a hill. At the bottom of the hill, a tree branch blocked our path. This student was walking near the head of the line and he was first down the hill. He pulled the branch back to clear the path for the other students. I stood and watched, worried that he might let the branch go and hit someone as they passed. But he waited patiently, holding the branch, until the last student had passed through safely. It took me until May, but I found the moment that I loved that little guy.
    And your little guy gave you yet another reason to find him irresistable.

    • diblog says:

      Beth, what a wonderful story! And what a good Quaker you are. I find looking for the Light in each kid has gotten me through many a bad day of teaching. And remembering my former music teacher’s advice: “All parents send you their best kids.”

  3. Jen says:

    I have three girls, ages 5, 4, and 1– undivided attention is very, very hard to come by around here, and I mostly think that’s okay. They’re learning a kind of connection to each other that I think is beautiful and valuable in its own way. But I do love those moments when I can take just 1 with me somewhere: to the store, around the block, on a quick errand. It’s such a lovely reminder of the tiny people they are growing into while I’m busy sweeping the kitchen floor.
    Jen recently posted..The Times, They Are A Changin’My Profile

    • diblog says:

      Jen, you’re right. I need to remember that divided attention is actually the norm! I was the third child, so I definitely got it and I don’t remember ever feeling neglected. I have great memories with my siblings and my parents too. Another blog post I read recently had a line that stuck with me – a mom spending some quality time with her son, the oldest of three, said, “Kinda makes me wish I could raise each of my children separately.” True – but not necessarily for the best, right?

  4. emerge says:

    YEAH. I don’t remember feeling deprived of anyone’s attention as a kid. Both my parents were there for me when I needed them to be, as far as I can remember. Maybe when I was homeschooling, I got some one-on-one time, when the others were at school or napping or otherwise engaged. But mostly, having time shared with siblings was totally fine. I definitely got lots of one-on-one time with my sister when we shared a room – and THAT WAS AWESOME. Even though sometimes we threw each other’s paper dolls in the trash can.

    • diblog says:

      ha ha, emerge! I think we did a LOT of bickering and vowing never to speak to one another again… but there were a lot of good times too. Especially in retrospect. 🙂

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