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Huck’s been a bit of a monster lately, totally fragile and breaking into full fledged tantrums when angry just like a horrible two year old or a drunken Stanley Kowalski. Who knows what he’s going through? Top secret anxiety over our upcoming week apart while he’s in Kansas and we’re in Arkansas? Stress over first grade coming to an end? Anger towards Blanche Dubois being in town? All we know is that as soon as he goes to bed at night Troy and I give each other really sympathetic facial expressions like we’ve just survived a war together. Because that is exactly what parenthood feels like these days.
Meanwhile Huck’s favorite pastime is to build a gigantic nest on his bed with every blanket we own, turn up his Vornado fan full blast, turn up his rain forest bird chirping sound machine full blast, dim his lights to the lowest possible setting and rest in the nest as an imaginary poisonous creature whose name I can’t remember how to pronounce.
Anyway, yesterday Huck had another outrageous response to being told TV time was over, which prompted many discussions about his behavior and the consequences, blah blah blah blah blah. Again Troy and I stole meaningful glances when we could, briefly revealing our war wounds to each other while delicately trying to move our violent soldier onto the next phase of the evening, which was making dinner. Approximately 12 minutes later I completely lost my mind trying to log onto TD Ameritrade’s website to check on an account. I literally felt like I was going to begin kicking, screaming, sobbing and maybe blowing things up, and when Troy asked if he could help I think I growled something like “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE EVERYONE AND LET ME BE MAD ABOUT THIS!” I have a hazy memory of the two of them tiptoeing back into the kitchen with Huck sarcastically saying a melodic “Okay …” I finally found what I was looking for and regained my normal blood pressure, hoping no one noticed the irony of it all.
I think there’s something in our water.
Oh dear. That is all too familiar. Both the way Huck is acting and then your reaction. I think Aunt Jeni needs to make a visit soon and make everything all better! I wanna visit this jungle…sounds fascinating.
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Ah, the joys and torture of growing up, of shaking off the responsibilities laid on you when you just want to hole up in your nest and just be. Shall I cue the song “I Won’t Grow Up” from “Peter Pan” or perhaps “Square One” by Coldplay? Life seems more manageable if you have a soundtrack to go with it.
Each age brings some new give and take, push and shove and it all seems to lead to more restrictions, greater responsibility, and the expectation that your ** years old so you ought to be acting like something that feels so remote. *sigh*
I remember not too long ago over hearing mum talking to Amelia about ‘now, when you’re 7 you’ll have to blah, blah, blah’ and thinking “good grief! the kid will never want to grow up if she’s got a list longer than she is tall of expectations.” No wonder we sometimes go all out in the boxing ring of mummy vs. daughter. Life is tough and it doesn’t seem to get any easier even as a parent (or two) try to help easy the growing pains.
It’s good for Huck to see the fall out of his actions. It’s good to let him see that you are human and there are moments when, as we say in my house, “done” – it’s a very clear and definite moment when you just feel it to your core that you are – done, d-o-n-e. And that’s okay, you just have to warn everyone and still try to get through to bedtime when you can go to sleep to wake up and start a new day. Or go build your own nest, but find your own materials or another war will breakout. whew!
This too shall pass and sharing it just lets you get it out AND let you see that you are not alone and that it’s probably the sprites and mischievous fairies and not the water.
Well, if Aunt Jeni’s visiting this jungle, I’ll visit, too – as long as I can hide behind her. But I’ll tell you right now I’m not going near the poisonous creature’s nest. Or the TD Ameritrade website.