Nov
6
November 6, 2006
Riley seems to have entered a new and charming stage of toddlerdom that involves lots and lots of whining. Whining, crabbing, and spiraling rapidly downward into complete and utter meltdowns when he can’t get his way.
Example: he has this toy car thing he walks behind and pushes. Lately, as he’s pushing it around the living room, if he comes up against an immovable object he stands there turning bright red and making this horrible noise that sounds as though a woodchuck – or, I don’t know, a beaver? – is being violently crammed into a sausage machine, producing some kind of…beaver…sausage…anyway, it’s a fucking obnoxious sound is my point, and then he usually bursts into frustrated sobs, staggers around blindly in his unending sorrow, and likely as not he then hits his head on something because tantrums = clumsy and hoo boy, that’s when he REALLY gets going.
Other things that seem to really, really piss him off: diaper changes, clothing changes, changes in number of oxygen molecules per square inch (some things we have to guess at), food that displeases him (don’t go thinking that just because waffles worked in the morning, they’re going to work later in the day because NEIN!), being put down, being picked up, having one of us walk out of the room, having the remote pried out of his grip, naps, bedtime, and the election process.
I thought dealing with a small baby was trying, patience-wise. Oh, those were the salad days compared to the Horrible, Terrible, No Good Very Bad Toddler he can be now. I never thought I’d tell my 14 month old to shut the hell up, but uhh….I’ve said it more than once lately, usually hissed (lovingly) over my shoulder while my fingers grip the steering wheel hard enough for my metacarpals to burst out of my skin and I stare at a sea of red lights that won’t get OUT OF MY WAY don’t they know I have a CRANKY-ASS TODDLER who is jacking his whine up to ELEVEN for the love of CHRIST my head is going to explode just like in SCANNERS.
I read an article recently about a mother whose 18-month-old ended up using a braid of hair from a wig as his “lovey” (the thing they drag around everywhere, like Linus and his blanket) after a long, stressful car trip where she laid her head in his lap to comfort him and he got all attached to her hair.
Okay, if I put my head in Riley’s lap while he was in one of his Moods, I might not get it back. I’d definitely have to sacrifice any eyeball or something. When he’s tantruming neither JB nor I can comfort him with affection, that is absolutely not what he wants. If you give him a toy he’ll throw it. If you offer him food he’ll smack it away. If you pick him up you better use your go-go-Gadget arms because he’ll squirm and shove and go all boneless-chicken-limp to get down where he can more properly collapse in a heap and scream.
That article made me kind of sad, because I wish he could take comfort from me like that when he’s upset. I wish he felt like Mama makes it all better, instead of viewing me as yet another tortuous annoyance that must be shoved aside because OMG GET OUT OF MY FACE MOM.
Isn’t he a little young to be rejecting me? I expected this in his teen years but come ON. And if this is what we’re dealing with at 14 months, just what do those Terrible Twos have in store? Jesus.
I don’t want to make it sound like it’s all just one neverending parenting nightmare right now, so let me also say that he is getting more and more fun, more delightful. He reads books with us and says “duck” and laughs with joy when we roll his truck back and forth with him. Last night I gave him a Quaker Oats container and he was over the moon, walking around banging on it and putting plastic keys inside it and shaking it and just basically going batshit with happiness. He is insanely curious and makes these soft whispering “teh teh teh” noises when he finds something new to explore. He still calls shoes “ba ba” but will bring them to me when I ask him to, a mini butler jolting his way towards me on stiff zombie legs.
But oh, I can’t lie, it’s also hard, hard, hard. I’ve never known someone who can infuriate me so and yet who holds my heart in their tiny starfish hand.
Nov
5
A conversation held while driving through the rain on the way to Starbucks today:
Riley, from the backseat: *weird noise*
Me: “What’s up with that.”
JB: “He sounds like those beavers.”
Me: “Beavers? What beavers?”
JB: “You know, beavers.”
Me: “Oh, right. Yeah, he does sort of sound like a beaver. Quiet back there, you beaver.”
(Pause)
Me: (idly) “We should get some beavers. Like to keep as pets.”
JB: “Pssh. You get some beavers, here’s what happens. First you’re all, ooh, I have beavers, no one has beavers, I’m totally cool. Then you get home from work and it’s like, fuckin beavers. Your fence is gone.”
Me: “Haa. Your walls are chewed to hell.”
JB: “Your house is gnawed to a stump and everyone has waffle prints on their faces.”
Me: “…waffle?”
JB: “From their tails. Beavers get pissed, they start whacking shit with their tails. They’re all, NO DEAL. Whack!”
Me: “Beaver, deal or no deal?”
JB: “NO DEAL. WHACK!”
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