| Party Animals | | Date Created: May 07, 2006, 08:08 PM |
So sorry I have been such a poor blogger lately. I've been so out of it. And Georgie's been sick with a virus--runny nose, fever, and the always-welcome guest, diarrhea. But I can't use that for an excuse because he didn't get sick until Friday and I was out of it way before then. But it's a new week and I intend on tackling it with newfound fervor--or at least fervor I plan on finding before tomorrow morning when everything gets started all over again.
It wasn't too long ago I said I thought we were enjoying the gentle breezes of a good wave of behavior. For every high-pressure system on the map, there must be a low somewhere and that is where we are now. James is back to being a pain--I'm trying not to say "his usual self" because I hope that isn't the case. Nothing is his fault, he is entitled to anything he wants, and being likable is irrelevant to his wishes being met. We were in the car the other morning and Will pointed something out, a sign maybe, anyway something that was obvious but James just didn't see it. But it wasn't because he wasn't observant, perceptive, or quick enough to see it. "I cannot see it from here, Daddy!" he said with complete disdain toward Will for suggesting he look at something not in his direct line of vision (which it was anyway!). We went to a birthday party on Friday for their dear friend Iona. At birthday parties with other parents there, you especially want your child to seem charming with good manners and plenty of joy. No luck for me this time. And my ace-in-the-hole Georgie was at home sick. The only time James smiled during the whole party was when he was given a Burger King crown to put on his head and he smiled and said, "King James!" Besides that it was, very loudly, "I want cake. I want cake. I want cake." At the beginning of the party, all of the parents and children were playing games in the den and John and James refused to come in, watching expressionless from the hall while the adorable children danced and clapped and played musical chairs. John and James did win the prize for the game where you act like a statue when the music stops and whoever moves the least wins. No joke. What a proud moment. No surprise really since they'd been practicing the whole time. What was really sad about their lack of participation was that Iona's mother told me that Iona had said to her earlier that John and James were going to sing in the microphones with her on "stage" at her party. Luckily there were plenty of cute, well-behaved children to step in as understudies for the party-poopers. When James finally got his cake, he threw a temper tantrum. I still don't know what was wrong with it and I've blocked out how I "handled it." Maybe squeezing his arms so tight I made handprints and delivering threats through a clenched-jaw? Something like that probably. They did warm up a little playing outside, only John wouldn't get out of the battery-powered jeep and spent the entire time running over plants and feet and into fences and the pathways of very small children. How adorable! I felt most embarrassed in front of the mothers who only had girls. They have no idea! The only thing worse than being terrorized by a wild boy is being the mother of the wild boy and not being able to control the terror.
Birthday parties are work. I don't plan on taking even two of them by myself to one ever again.
I took away the plastic swords someone (no names--you know who you are) gave the boys for Christmas. Now John puts on his knight helmet, his shield, and wields a plastic golf club. The head on the end of it only makes it more dangerous than the sword. There's just no stopping a true knight.
I try really really hard not to wish and pray for material things, but I could so use a bigger house right now with the boys having their own bedrooms. Tonight we got them down early, only to spend the next two hours corralling them back into bed, putting this one in time-out, this one falling asleep in another time-out. It's so complicated and we're missing out on peace and they're missing out on sleep. Actually Will did most of the corralling. After 7:30 or so my ears somehow don't pick up the tone of their voices. The other thing about the rooms is that they really need a place to keep things that are theirs and theirs only. "Mize bird!" they yell. "Mize dinosaur! "Mize book!" And they truly only have a very few things that belong to one person and are not part of the communal crap. John has his vest he hangs on his bed and a few toys he has appropriated as his own without his brothers' agreement. Also any toy he has touched in a day should not be touched by another brother at any other time that day or somehow he will hear or smell or taste that it is being disturbed and he will run from wherever he is, his black knight helmet bobbing on his head, his golf club out front ready for contact, screaming incredibly incredibly incredibly loud with a red face and hot hot tears. The toys John has touched in a particular day are the particular toys James wants to play with. This makes for a very frustrated, foul-mouthed momoe.
Speaking of frustrated ( a popular topic in these pages, I know), another one of James' recent specialties is a very endearing lapse of all civility, manners, and humanity. James can name his ABC's no problem. Sing Jesus Loves Me. Recite the Lord's Prayer. But he can not string the following words together: "May I have a snack please?" He can say quite well and with feeling, "I want a snack!" or even "James get a snack!" or "Want a snack now!" If prodded, his face red and mad, he can barely sputter, "May.." or "Have a snack" or his desperate one-syllable barbaric yawp, "PWEASE!!!" If desperate enough and not yet overtaken by a complete meltdown, he can manage, "May I have a snack?" But cannot, will not, shall not, has not once been able to add "please" to it. Am I being too hard on a 2 1/2-year old? Maybe under normal circumstances, but James is not normal and he is completely deliberate. If you ever think he didn't mean to do or say something because, good lord, who would intentionally do or say that, think again. I love James. I always say this. And it's true. But I worry that he won't make friends if he doesn't try to be a little more likable and have a little more fun.
Speaking of fun, I have a very busy week ahead, but good busy with fun stuff, I think. It feels good to be writing here again, so I will try to keep it up and keep better notes about the silly stuff the boys say and do. Have an awesome week. I'm going to try to be more likable myself and maybe it will rub off on the boys! |
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