L and I knew we wanted children—she wanted five, and […]
L and I knew we wanted children—she wanted five, and I was good with two. We settled on three. This past week has once again proven that kids are both awesome and insane. Sometimes at the same time, sometimes on separate occasions.
Take G. This kid shrieks like no ones business, for unspecified reasons (partly because he can’t yet speak), regardless of where we are.
Sure, he’s only 19 months old, but he’s about as indecisive as it gets … and he lets us, and everyone else within earshot, know it. He’ll be mid-bite of breakfast or dinner and let out a screech upon deciding he doesn’t want the food he’s just had numerous bites of. What the heck happened between that last bite and this one that triggered such disdain!? He’ll grab whatever is near and throw it, or walk to the wall to lean his head against it and cry. It’s a temper tantrum, basically. We’ll try diverting his attention in an attempt to distract him—with roughly a 50 percent success rate—and if it works, he’s giggling uncontrollably literally three seconds later, almost making me forget the ear-piercing sounds that preceded the laughter. ALMOST.
N is a pretty jovial kid, except when he gets embarrassed … then he becomes ornery and rude. But I get it—no one likes being embarrassed.
After school the other day, he was running around with a few other kids (G was also “running” with them) and out of nowhere, without skipping a beat, said, “Daddy, I peed in my pants.” He’s 4-and-a-half, but once in a long while he’ll do this. I guess it’s the child version of FOMO.
We get inside, and he tells me, “Dad, I gotta poop.” Luckily, we keep spare clothes in his backpack, and there are wipes in the bathrooms. We walked into the bathroom (which consisted of the coolest little toilets, sinks and water fountains I’ve ever seen), and he immediately turned to me and said, “Dad, please don’t tell anyone I peed.” So, not to break his trust, I kept it quiet as he pooped. To signify his completion of the deed, he walked around saying, “I pooped. I just pooped.” So he had no shame in his No. 2 game but was mortified that he peed himself. Fair enough, though I had to remind him not to boast about bowel movements.
During the time N spent in the bathroom, G (who’s a little celebrity within N’s preschool environs) was walking around, alternately pointing skyward uttering noises resembling ‘up’ and waving at everyone who happened to look his way.
So, like the title suggests, kids are both awesome and insane. They’ll screech; they’ll pee their pants … but then they’ll laugh their infectious little laugh and proudly brag about the poop they just took. And I wouldn’t trade either for anything in the world.