Father and Son
Teddy (in a high-pitched whine): Maaaaaaaaamaaaa!
Peter (in a low-pitched grumble): Can't you get him to stop?
Kate: He has trouble waking up in the morning.
Peter (grumbling): Make him stop.
Kate: He gets it from his Daddy.
Peter does not see the humor in this exchange.
amused, yet annoyed
Dh and I were out the other day and witnessed this kid who was running circles around his mother, I mean Would Not Stop Running Circles, it was totally overwhelming and we rolled our eyes and laughed heartily as a childless couple, until I realized, "Holy Crap! That's Dh, Jr." Conversely, while sitting around the dining table of a friend's house with their 7 month old infant sitting in his highchair chewing on a teething ring thingy, his father noted how nice it was to finally have the child be okay to just chill for a minute. My shoulders slumped over, my spirit deflated a bit, as I accepted, "Our child will never we able to just chill for a minute." And dh doesn't see the humor in this either.
|Date:||January 3rd, 2007 08:07 pm (UTC)|| |
but would you want your kid to chill?
Because what would that mean? S/he had no energy! No spirit! No enthusiasm! Who wants that kind of kid?
OK, I do. Every night between 8 pm and 6 am.
But the rest of the time? I don't want some boring automaton! I want a child, a little person with a personality that's all his own, someone who has ideas to express and things he wants to do.
And if that means a kid who runs around in endless circles or, in Teddy's case, wants to go up and down and up and down and up and freakin' down the stairs? OK.
Re: but would you want your kid to chill?
It's funny because if we have a child that doesn't stop, it will drive us crazy, but if we have a kid that chills, we'll think something is wrong. We can't win. I think we'll alter our expectations again: one with most limbs in the right place. Okay, okay, with limbs close to the right places. Now there's a reasonable expectation I can feel good about.