Cutest Monster EVER.
Daddy is out of town so we are making do as best we can, just the three of us. Which is nice because I have the boys all to myself but also hard because EVERYONE misses Big Loud Thing. (That’s a Doctor Who joke, right there. If you get it, well, good for you and if you don’t, well… it’s probably not that funny anyway.) So today, we had plans to go to the spray park. At noon. And I started trying to get this family ready to leave at 7 am, because that’s how things go when you have a four year old. People think it’s hard to get out of the house with a new baby. That’s bull. The baby has to bow to my will. He can’t move. He can’t talk. He just lays there and looks cute. He hardly even cries. In fact, I honestly think he just checks to make sure Big Milk Thing is around and then goes along for the ride. (That’s the rest of the Doctor Who joke. Non-geeks can just move along.)
Now, honestly, this should have been no sweat, because after spending an entire day refusing to nap anywhere but in Raba’s arms, Keeghan was back to loving his crib today. (In case you’re out of the loop… Yesterday at 11:22: “so far today every time I try to put Keeghan in his crib for a nap he works himself up and cries. Then, when I hold him, if I don’t tuck his legs up under him JUST LIKE Raba does, more tears. Dimples when I get it right. And the grandparent spoiling has officially begun at age 6 weeks and 4 days.”) So we had a good hour of Mommy + Ian time to get ready for a fun afternoon. But the fact that Ian had been carrying on an oppositional, “No yes no yes no yes no yes” argument WITH HIMSELF so far that morning should have clued me in. We spent TWO HOURS on getting dressed. In reality this means he spent a lot of time naked and wandering the house. We’re trying to work on the goal of efficient, self driven dressing in the mornings around here because well… Mommy’s hands are full and her ability to sit in your room handing you clothing one item at a time is probably going to be impinged upon by epic diaper blowouts once Daddy returns to work next week.
Mr. Hyde
Which is when Ian ran out of his room naked and panicky shouting, “THEY’RE CLOSING. THEY’RE CLOSING. THEY’RE CLOSING THE SPRAY PARK. MOMMY, HELP ME GET READY.” He wasn’t playing. He was seriously afraid that he was going to miss it because he wasn’t dressed. Which for some reason did not prompt him to just… put on his clothes. We pushed through this somehow… I honestly don’t remember. It’s either the new mom brain or I’ve just had a psychotic break. Anyway, we went to the spray park, which turned out not to be as challenging as I thought, because I was able to park the baby in the shade at a strategic location where I could see Ian almost the entire time we were there and he’d come check in every few minutes. Which is an awesome example of why I LOVE HAVING A FOUR YEAR OLD. He’s old enough to be independent and that is SO COOL. We call this behavior “Dr. Jekyll.”
However, while at the park, he also screamed at several little kids, punched a woman, pestered anyone foolish enough to speak to him, and generally raised Cain. Hello, Mr. Hyde. Why do you even stop by? Your manners are terrible. You whine. You fixate. You rage. To wit: When we got home from the spray park, Ian wanted burgers. I said, “no sweat! We’ll cook up some burgers!” At which point Ian announced, “But you cannot have cheese on yours, Mommy. Cheese is only for me.” Hm. The problem here is that you never know when one of these proclamations is going to arc over from “funny things kids say” to “accede to my demands or I’ll kill all the hostages.” So I COULD have been looking forward to an evening of dragging Ian, kicking and screaming (which unfortunately is not a metaphor when you are dealing with Mr. Hyde) to his room, over and over, all because I enjoy my burgers, WHICH I MYSELF AM PREPARING, with cheese. But it didn’t happen. Hello, Dr. Jekyll. I’m glad you arrived while the burgers were cooking. Everyone loves you. You are charming, sweet, polite, and funny. Also, you give awesome hugs. And you have a GREAT smile.
Dr. Jekyll, with friend Gregory, as Zoo Animals, which is more appropriate than you know.
Some days are all Dr. Jekyll and a few, thankfully rare, ones are almost all Mr. Hyde. But there are also days when it’s like living with a fast cycle bipolar disorder patient- he switches from Jekyll to Hyde repeatedly, rapidly, and WITH NO WARNING. I feel like I’m one of those lumberjacks riding a log rolling down the river, moving as fast as I can not to be tipped off into the river where I’ll be hit on the head with my own log, drown, and die. And this is when my Grandma Gray would have said: “If you aren’t lucky enough to have a family, then these things never happen to you.”
Grandma, you were SO RIGHT.
