Stephen and Noah Starr
One of the things I enjoy most is watching my children play. By the way, did I happen to mention my apartment usually gets destroyed within the first half hour? Legos everywhere. DVDs, blocks, books flying through the air. Clothes pulled from draws. Sheets and pillows being pulled from their beds...
The boys have taken to making a tent by pulling Noah's spread across the top of Stephen's bed to drape it over the crib sides so they can hide. Creating their version of the batcave, they sometimes spend a couple of hours entertaining themselves by sharing and fighting over toys. Noah usually climbs in and out to supply them with snack-age, gathering a selection of toys before turning on the T.V. so they can also peek through the folds to check out their favorite shows between parallel and interactive play. I like to knock on the door to get their attention which usually results in them popping their heads up to see who has entered their bedroom before breaking into hysterical giggles, ducking down to hide again in their self made sanctuary. On occasion, daring you to come close and find them for a tickle session.
As the days, weeks and months go by I start to realize that the little people have taken over my home. Nothing is sacred. Especially to the two year old who thinks everything is a toy. I've tried closing the bathroom door, but Stephen has mastered the art of breaking and entering. Just when you think it is safe to turn on your computer and take a moment to blog, answer some emails, or otherwise check in with the world, here he comes streaking by, trailing streams of toilet paper in his wake... I won't even mention what he does to my laundrey bags. The more mess he makes, the more fun he has, the more tired I become. The terrible twos are truly terrible, yet fascinating and sometimes funny as hell.
My boys have excellent instincts and seem to appear to know when they have gone too far. Everytime I open my mouth to "time them out" or fuss, with comedic timing Stephen starts clapping his hands, jumping up and down while declaring in a bright optomistic voice, "Good Job!" He always runs forward, then gives me a kiss, a smack and headbutt, looking very pleased that I have participated in the secret head/handshake and survived the painful terms of endearment...
With shining eyes and the grin of innocence, he bounces off to find his next adventure, crashing something else against the floor/door/wall. He is quite the bundle of energy, my little man. Why walk when you can run? Why run when you can jump, roll, swim and crawl across the floor? Why do any of it when you can "W-Sit" and bounce your butt through the door? Chasing little people is exhausting, but must be done. When you catch them and initiate a time-out, they go off to their respective corners and give you that silent stare as if asking you, "What's WRONG with you? Who's crib is it anyway? Isn't this MY house-- am I not allowed to play?"
I'm still trying to figure out how to not feel guilty for trying to enforce a few "tiny people rules." Kids are so much fun and they really make you think about what you have to do in response to their actions, whether for reward or punishment. Even when I'm mad, and I do periodically get really upset with them, a part of me has to admire their tenacity to sticking to their guns when they want to do something, no matter how reasonable or outrageous. I enjoy the process because they are so alive with business they actually can make me feel slothful. My kids know how to keep us on our toes.
What I enjoy even more is when after destroying my house while in Autism/PDD-NOS mode, they take a break to curl up together and cuddle. Sometimes they settle on the couch, the futon or Noah's bed to tangle up together and rest. If Stephen is already in the crib Noah climbs in to hold his hand and comfort him while they both try to find a spot to go to sleep. When I see them like this, I don't mind cleaning up the mess, even though I know when they wake up and I put Stephen back on the floor my home is going to look like a bomb went off in it and appear as if I can't ever get anything done...
Still, I thank God for my little pookies...
They are so much fun, and I don't think my house has looked the same since my 4 year old moved in. The new one is just adding more stuff over the last few months, but so well worth it.
Hi Christine -- aren't they a hoot? They are fun indeed...
I was just talking to an older gentleman(66 yearsold) in my office and made the comment tthat my kids are so much fun (11 year old boy and 8 year old girl) he just couldn;t believe that we are so close and I literally cannot wait to see them after school each and every day so we can play! (after homework of course)
Hello John -- that's excellent! My favorite part of picking Noah up from school is that special look of greeting I get the first time he spots me waiting with the other parents. He always seems to be so pleased to see me and can't wait to get to the car so he can demand his favorite CD or ask if we can get french fries and go to the park.
It is great that you are so close and that you allow them the "mess". They are building relationships that will last a lifetime (even when at points they think they can't stand each other -Oh it will happen, believe me.) Enjoy and keep the lines of trust and communication open and you will enjoy your children through all the stages.
Good morning Paddy -- thank you for taking the time to comment on my blog. Watching them build their relationships is so much fun. They each have a favorite friend and are both growing so close I'm glad to take a step back to watch it all unfold while they are bouncing off the walls, swopping clothes and trading food, etc. I find myself looking forward to when they grow older. I can only imagine what's in store... ;)