John Says Life's Just Better at the Fair, James Says Thank God It Only Comes Once a Year, and Georgie Says What the Hay

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John Says Life's Just Better at the Fair, James Says Thank God It Only Comes Once a Year, and Georgie Says What the Hay

Date Created: Nov 13, 2006, 09:14 PM

Would you believe I actually did you a service by taking so long to write. John has been such an incredible pain that I have had nothing but negativity to report. And yet, tonight he sat on the potty and took a bath with NO fussing! And we all sat on James-O's bed while Will read Curious George and we all said our prayers and everyone brushed their teeth and went to bed without a single complaint! They even helped pick up toys!!! John has been such a wreck this last week I couldn't have imagined a night like tonight. I guess God knows how much I can stand.

This is the John issue. As long as everything in the world is exactly as John wants it, he is one of the funniest, sweetest, affectionate, playful, helpful, pleasant people on earth. But everything like John wants it includes such things as a world where socks aren't "pointy" (if you know what this means PLEASE let me know), shoes are not required at all, there are no tags on shirts or PJ's, all sweatshirts have hoods, all waffles are cut in half with no syrup, all crayons are whole and sharpened, all food is unsticky and not too hot or too cold, all music is not too loud or too soft, all PJ's have dinosaurs or footballs, all books are on his bed while he is sleeping on it, a light is always on, extra shirts and pants are clean and accessible for any and unlimited wardrobe changes, the Gamecocks always win, and he is not required to wake-up, eat, get in the car or do anything else unless and when he wants to. It's that simple.

Last night in the car he screamed for 20 minutes straight on the way to my grandparents'. As hard as it is--and I'm not always able--I ignored him. When he got no response to screaming he suddenly lashed out at Will who wasn't even there. "Daddy is BAD! Daddy is BAD!" George has no tolerance for John or James' bad behavior and resents the conspicuous nature of their outbursts because it brings more attention to all three of them and George is not able to do as many sneaky things like steal James' plastic pirates, push James, make patterns on the rug by making his sippy cup drip, or sneak out the front door. Last night he'd had enough of John's antics. "Daddy is a good man, John," he said in a firm voice from his car seat. "Daddy is a good man."

The absolute worst situation has been the shoes. It's getting cold now and John simply cannot wear his flip-flops or crocs. He can't wear those to school anyway because the teachers want the students to wear socks and shoes that playground sand can't get into. Getting the boys dressed, fed, and into the car every morning for school is not easy--as you can imagine. Getting their teeth brushed and faces washed is not as pleasant as the mulberry bush song would have you believe. So imagine my frustration when after dressing John I turn around and his socks and shoes are strewn around the room. And school starts in 10 minutes. Or when he walks in the room in linen pants he got out of someone's drawer. And they're on backward. And no shirt. And he says he's ready for school. It's all I can muster not to lock him in the house and leave him behind. What I've been doing is not saying anything. Just putting the other two in the car and eventually he comes out. I never want to say, "I'm leaving. Bye bye." Because I've seen other mothers do this in stores to make their children get a move-on and the look of fear on a young child's face when she thinks her mother is going to leave her is heart-breaking. So I try to just ignore him and eventually he comes around. This morning after I found the socks and shoes abandoned again, I held him in my lap so hard as I forced his socks and shoes on. He kicked and screamed as I buckled him into his car seat. As soon as we pulled out of the driveway, he stopped screaming and even sang songs and pointed out front-end loaders and dump trucks on the way to school. By the time we got there, he still had his socks and shoes on! It was a miracle! All day I started to ponder the possibility that maybe he was moving out of this terrible please-say-it's-a phase. And then Will's mom told me the teacher at school told her that John had had a fit at school concerning the tag in his shirt. So the teacher cut it out. Then he decided he didn't want to wear the shirt at all. Luckily he had a change of clothes in his bag. So the teacher changed his shirt. But he really didn't like that shirt, so the teacher had to change him back into the original one. He wasn't home five minutes before that shirt was off and he'd found his race car shirt. Last night when I went to check on him before I went to bed, he was asleep on the floor right on the other side of his door. All he had on was a diaper. His pajamas were balled up in the trash can.

Maybe it was the trip to the fair that spoiled real life for John. He LOVED it. The only time he wasn't grinning like mad was when we said no he couldn't ride the zipper or no he couldn't get on the rainbow or no he couldn't ride the gravitron. Our friends Todd and Jessica went with us and to say we couldn't have done it without them just doesn't explain it. Even with one more adult than children I felt a little overwhelmed, out of control, and over my head. Todd and Jessica more than picked up the slack. Anyway, we had such a wonderful time. The boys were so true to their personalities. John was game for anything and was royally bummed when he saw the measuring sticks that determined if you were tall enough for a ride. In his mind he is as tall and brave as Todd. And he wanted to hang with Todd. The only way he could stand it when Todd and Jessica went on this ride that went upside down was by eating half a big box of popcorn and drinking a large-size Coke.

George was his happy laid-back self. Go on a ride? Sure. Play a duckie game? Sure. Win a stuffed fish? Very cool. Eat popcorn? Very cool. Watch some little girls dance on a stage? Why not. Go on the ferris wheel? Ok. See animals in a barn? Right on. He had fun just being George. Just hanging out. Having a few thrills.

Oh sweet sweet sweet baby James. Ride on a dinosaur that goes .0005 miles per hour? Yes! Ride on the ferris wheel? Uh, I don't think so. James had a good time at the fair but I wouldn't say it came naturally to him. Or maybe it will just be better when he and the other two are old enough to bring their own friends and go their own ways. James can eat food and see the farm equipment and not feel pressured to ride the rides. He was such a good sport. He did great on the small rides that went really slow and his favorite was the "construction trucks" that went around and around. That was funny because it was one of the first rides they went on and when the gate opened I walked up there with them to put them in and George just took off and got into another truck all by himself. I already feel like he thinks he's too cool to be seen at the fair with his parents. Anyway, James did great. But then we had to escalate the excitement level a little for King John. So Todd and I took them on these huge bears that work sort of like the tilt-a-whirl. You sit inside them and the ride spins you in a large circle while you spin the bear itself around and around by pulling on a wheel inside the bear sort of like a sit-and-spin. The ride hadn't even started when Todd began pulling the wheel and spinning us around. James grabbed his arms out to hold onto the wheel and I swear if he were a cartoon character his head would have popped right off his skinny little neck! His whole body swayed and his eyes bugged out. I honestly thought he might have a seizure. I knew for sure he would throw up. but somehow he survived. George had fun and of course John screamed so loud in the cavernous bear I couldn't hear anything else. After the kiddie section we went on to the midway where all the adult rides and games are. But our leisurely tour was often interrupted by John dragging us toward a ride only to be devastated when he was too short. Finally we found a ride we could all go on together. It used to be my favorite ride when I was about 10. And I believe it is the exact same model I rode when I was 10. All of the rides have tons of light and are made of shiny fiberglass and play loud music. The Scrambler is made out of aluminum, has no light, and no music other than the squeaks and clanks of chains and metal. Will rode with George, John rode with Todd and Jessica, and I took James because I wanted to take care of him. I knew it wasn't going to be pretty but to his huge credit James wanted to go on the ride so badly and I didn't want him to be left out even though I sensed he would be miserable. The ride operator said, "Get in a car and if it doesn't have a seat belt, find one that does." So we did. And I held James close. The ride started up and James said, "I want to to go fast! I don't want to go slow!" I took this as a good sign that James was ready for some real action and would have fun. The speed quickly picked up and before we knew it the cars were weaving in and out in their pattern and gravity was flinging us as far against the side of the seat as we could go. "I don't want to go fast!" James cried. "I don't want to go fast." I held him to me. His heart was racing. His face pressed into my side. I held him against me by the forehead so his little head didn't started teetering around like it did on the bears. I was also holding onto him to keep him from sliding onto the floor of the car. I truly worried that James was so scared he would have a heart attack. I prayed for the ride to be over. I laughed, though, because I wanted to show James there was nothing to worry about and it was supposed to be fun. but I didn't want him to think he was silly for being scared either so then I would say, "It's okay. It's going fast. We'll stop soon." Unfortunately, the Scrambler is no longer the popular attraction it once was. And so without a line waiting, the operator kept it going and going and going. "We're stopping soon, James! Hold on! Whee!" I said. And James said over and over. "I want to stop. I want to stop." All of my mixed emotions plus the wind plus the absolute absurdity of going in circles while holding your toddler by the forehead caused tears to spring from my eyes and fly into the air. It was weird to think that people were walking slowly by not paying a bit of attention to the rusty Scrambler, eating candy apples and shooting water guns into plastic clown faces, while I could hear one son screaming in and out with sheer delight and at the same time literally praying that the son in my arms would not die from fright. Finally the ride was over. I didn't care if James got sick or not, I just wanted him to not be scarred (or scared) for life. And once we got off the Scrambler and I told God that I would not ever do anything like that to James again, James looked at me and said, "What we doin' next?"

So I have to admire James' fortitude and good humor. He even joined his brothers on the last ride which I thought looked very scary. But I will say, as he was strapped in by the 300-pound woman with a less than maternal demeanor he leaned over the bar and gave her a serious dressing-down to which she made no acknowledgment. I have no idea what he said, but his lips were pursed as he spit out a lengthy and vehement argument. His eyes were big, his eyebrows lifted, and if he'd started wagging his finger at her I would not have been surprised. But it was too late. The bar was down and the woman was hearing none of it. Before he knew what was happening, the Frog Hopper was aloft and he was along for the ride...

(John is on the far left, George is on the yellow square and James on the pink)