Little T.Puzzle’s blood test confirmed that he is no longer allergic to eggs!
A happy day!
Just in Case
I haven’t taken little T.Puzzle on many outings lately. It’s mostly been due to illness but if I’m going to be completely honest, it’s also because he is so tantrum-prone that my nerves can’t take it. Granted, Full Speed gave me the same sort of issues at this age, but I was younger and my tolerance was higher for behavioral catastrophes (and there were many). Anyway, I have been feeling guilty that little T.Puzzle is missing out. I used to take Full Speed on several structured activities and lately all T.Puzzle has done is observe my laundry skills (which are mad fierce) up close and keep me company while I run to Target (not very educational I suppose unless carrying my purse helps him understand gender roles).
In this new year I am making a commitment to take him on more outings. Today it was storytime at Barnes and Noble. I know I had a 50/50 shot of it actually being enjoyable. He did okay during the story itself and only tried to casually tackle me a couple times. He quickly lost interest in it (he did enjoy the song portion) and darted to the dreaded, community Thomas the Train table as soon as physically possible. He was insistent that his train stay in contact with the railroad at all points and attempted to circle the table again and again. He was running over babies, tossing toddlers and stomping on granny toes to maintain this goal. After about 15 minutes of constant correction by me, I decided it was time to leave. My friend suggested getting a Thomas book to distract him, and it did, but once he realized we were leaving the table for good, a tantrum ensued. Surprisingly, it only reached a level four. Additionally, he did the wet noodle formation in the store in protest. He kept this going out to the parking lot as well. That’s getting pretty tough because he is almost as big as me. I barely powered through and managed to plunk him in the carseat tears and all. By the time we were home, he was calm and even said he was sorry. He is making progress. I think I better up my weight training regiment just in case.
So, I Did
Mad Dog is away for the week for a training and he left the boys “in charge” (this pretense drives me absolutely bananas by the way). Full Speed takes this very seriously. Before he left for school he gave me a run-down of his expectations for me:
1. Make sure no strangers come into the house while he is at school.
2. Keep the door to his room closed so it stays ‘safe’.
3. Make sure no harm befalls our television.
4. Keep little T.Puzzle away from all his stuff. (I told him this would be my easiest task because T.Puzzle would be at school just like him; he was visibly relieved).
When he returned home he had a moment of unexpected empathy for me. “Mom, how was your day today?” he asked. I was so happy that he was actually interested in what I did. Most people aren’t that concerned about what a stay-at-home-Mom does with her day. I started to tell him and then I realized he wasn’t really asking about my day. He was asking if his expectations as head of the house had been fulfilled.
I told him that no one came in the house, his door stayed shut, the television was in one piece AND T.Puzzle didn’t touch anything.
“Good job, Mom. Now, give me a high-five.”
So, I did.
Full Speed Attacks
We had my friends over for the Superbowl. The boys were certain they were coming only to see them. Full Speed asked obsessively throughout the day when they would arrive. When the doorbell finally rang at 5:00, both boys cheered and ran to the door. Before he knew it, my friend’s husband was designated as Full Speed’s new wrestling partner. While he was sitting watching the game, Full Speed would back up a few feet, run full-tilt at him and hurl his little body. My friend’s hubby, who thankfully was up for all of this, would catch him with one arm and hold him up high over his head. Full Speed thought this was the best time ever.
While all this nonsense was going on, my friend and I were critiquing the fashions from the Grammy’s (can you sense how deeply invested we were in the Superbowl’s outcome?), and of course we had to mention Lady Gaga’s outrageous get-up. So the next time Full Speed launches himself in the air, my friend’s husband doesn’t quite fully catch him and he falls towards the ground. It appears as if he is going to scream some sort of curse word (I had my fingers crossed that it would be mild like ‘shoot’ or ‘ouch’) as he is sailing through the air. Instead of using a bad word he screams out “LA-DEE GAAAA_ GAAAAH!” and lands in a heap of giggles.
Next time you stub your toe or the like, try it out. It works like a charm, even if you aren’t wearing platform heels and a barbed-wire hat.
Reflection
Against my better judgment and my own free will (Mad Dog is very persuasive), we took the boys to Box Seats after lunch. It actually wasn’t as overwhelming as usual. The place was pretty dead and almost serenely quiet. The boys had unlimited access to the newly installed NASCAR racing games, and Mad Dog and I shared cocktails and some actual conversation.
Then, I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye on one of Box Seats’ 137 television screens was a horrendous sight. And, then another and so on and so forth. The show was called ‘Bite Me with Dr. Mike’. It’s on the Travel Channel and flashes of dung beetles, some type of internal organ and other visual displays of grossness kept parading across the screen. I totally get that this is a show men may prefer, but it did little to convince me that Box Seats is a place that I want to regularly hang out. Now, maybe if they played ‘Sex and the City’ reruns and had weekly cosmopolitan specials, I could change my mind.
After 15 car races we were finally able to make our escape. The boys were being fairly well-behaved so we thought they could handle getting their hair cut. Of course, they did not sit still for one minute while we waited for their turn. They stood on chairs a couple times, attempted a wrestling smack-down and had a Power Ranger war. However, they responded well when reprimanded and when it was their turn for a trim, they were almost angelically (and mysteriously) well-mannered. Little T.Puzzle especially surprised me. He climbed up to the barber’s chair like a pro and yanked his glasses (they aren’t really made for yanking but oh well) off his face even before he was told.
I felt almost human. This is how I imagine my life could be. I could be in public and realistically know my kids won’t be perfect, but will be manageable. I even had a lengthy and lovely chat with another Mom of two boys that were a few years older than mine. She had much empathy about the physical and mental demands of raising young, active boys. She didn’t seem too scarred by her experience and that gave me hope. I always believe the strangers we interact with in the world are here to teach us something. They reflect back to us the things that sometimes we are unable to see within ourselves. Maybe I’ll make it through after all.