Showing posts with label Eli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eli. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

The Pleasure of their Company


A conversation with my friend Stacy today reminded me what awesome little boys I have. I have to admit that I had [not very good] reasons for being a little bit annoyed with them today, so I needed a reminder that these two little boys aren't an interruption in the course of my day-- I'm lucky enough that they get to be my day if I'll only let them.


For instance, Caleb is mostly an even-tempered, well-mannered kid. Whenever one of my friends watches him, she'll return him to me with a "Caleb was great, as usual" comment. Many of our friends who are childless, looking forward to being parents someday, say, "If I have a boy, I hope he's just like Caleb." (That's not to say he doesn't have his moments, like when he hit one of his good friends with a solid Melissa and Doug puzzle box in her chest, or when he throws a rousing, screaming tantrum, for instance.) Overall, though, he's eager to please.

That's not to say that he's bland, though. He's interesting and curious and communicative. He can also be quite opinionated. He has an aptitude for puzzles, which he gets from Patrick. At three, he's pretty familiar with the alphabet and he's good with numbers. Physically, he tends to be cautious, so his motor skills are about average for now. He enjoys a good art project (especially involving paint and/or stickers) and he likes to help me cook. He's quite tech-y in his interests lately and especially enjoys video games, computers, and movies. He's always enjoyed a good story, so he loves books. Today, I read him several chapters of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane during Eli's nap. He's always enjoyed getting messy and dirty, which is right up my alley. He recently loves to race-- he's into the competitive aspect of it, but not too much; he's still content to win "too" (meaning second).

He's not a constant cuddler, but he's affectionate, gives hugs easily, and says, "I love you" out of the blue regularly. He's quick to say, "Thank you for this yummy dinner" (which I think he might have picked up from my dad's training last summer). And every once in awhile, he'll start rubbing my back when we're sitting next to each other. He's really an incredible kid, and I hope he'll always know how lucky we feel to have him in our family.


Eli is also a delight. I recently described him to several different people and their laughter reinforced my belief that he's a little person with a lot of character. First off, he so adorable! I mean, as my friend Stacy and I were discussing today, he's really at that perfect, cute, enjoyable age. But he's also just oh-so-especially-cute with his adorable dimpled smile that is so dang infectious.

He's recently become a blanket kid-- not the velcro kind, just the buddy kind (he doesn't need it constantly, but he likes to have it around). He's a climber. If we'd let him, he'd hang out above ground-level most of the day. He loves books (board books that aren't too long) and he regularly shows up to shove them in my hands and climbs in my lap to be read to. He's an insistent communicator. He mostly learns signs and words as they suit him and won't be pressured into learning them just because I want him to. He loves my scrapbooks (which suits my vanity beautifully--smart kid), and he is devastated into a tantrum whenever I put them away. He especially loves pictures of us with our tongues sticking out (of which there are a great deal of Patrick especially).

He is also opinionated. He loathes brushing his teeth and whenever the toothbrush isn't in his mouth, he's insisting he's "ahhh daa!" and saying "no no!" He learned to tickle early (Patrick loves to tickle) and will tickle himself saying, "liddle, liddle, liddle."

He loves Caleb and he falls apart emotionally whenever Caleb gets out of the car to go to Joy School. He also loves to aggravate Caleb already. A frequent sight at our house is Caleb wailing, "I was playing with that! Eli took the toys I'm playing with!" and Eli booking it out of the room grasping said toy tightly in his hand with a big grin on his face, sometimes with laughter spilling out of him wickedly.

Eli is also a bit dramatic. Give him a food he doesn't want--even if he ate it ravenously yesterday--and he'll turn away as far as the high chair will allow crying, "No! No!" with a disgusted look on his face like you've tried to feed him some sort of inedible glop.

He is also affectionate. He willingly gives hugs and will sometimes cuddle contentedly for quite awhile. He is picky about people. He adores many of our good friends who he sees regularly. He will go right up to these women and climb into their lap or ask to be picked up with an "aat! aat!" (which means up). Sometimes there isn't exactly rhyme or reason to it. When my in-laws were here, he immediately gravitated to my father-in-law, who is marvelous, don't get me wrong, but is also a big gruff, tough looking man, and wouldn't give my mother-in-law (who is warm and eager and willing to play) the time of day at the beginning of their visit. Eli's mischief and drama often bring us to laughter, and his hugs add warmth to our home. We're also lucky to have him in our lives.

We couldn't imagine life without either one of our sweet, funny, bright little gentlemen in our lives. Thanks, Stacy and Jared, for reminding me to take notice.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Time Just Slips Away

Every once in awhile, I come to the end of the day, look back on it and realize that my little children are growing up. I know, they're only three and one, but still cumulatively that's so many days, so many hours, so many moments piled on top of each other that are past now. Not only the time, but their old selves also slip away. Eli was once a newborn, then an infant (rolling and sitting up), then a baby (pulling himself up and crawling), and now he's a toddler. Caleb was once a newborn, then an infant, then a baby, then a toddler, and now he's an early preschooler. One of my favorite times of the day is when I go in after they've gone to sleep to make sure they're covered. Though their brains may be working, for just a second they are as frozen in time and development as two healthy growing boys ever are.

Caleb
Actually, our night had some moments that were definitely NOT tender. Caleb fought with me over brushing his teeth and flossing. I don't know how to make this a pleasant activity, but it's an especially necessary nightly activity at our house because Caleb has a (so far not serious) heart condition-- a bicuspid aortic valve-- that is in more danger if he gets an infection, so his cardiologist has been telling us for the last two years that we need to get him good dental care. After literally wrestling with him to brush his teeth tonight (most of the time he's more cooperative), I couldn't help railing, "Who in the world thinks it's a good idea to floss a three-year-olds teeth!!" In any case, harsh words were spoken. Caleb was so wiggly and kept talking and pointing at me and I was so frustrated that I held him down to brush his teeth. Then I tried to floss and, with tears coming out of his angry face, he declared, "I don't want you to. You're being . . . mean!" And I responded angrily that it was because he was being difficult. It wound up that he went to bed without getting his teeth flossed, praying, getting scripture story, or reading scriptures (the last two being his favorite part of our bedtime routine).

Then Patrick read scriptures to me and Eli while I sat fuming and frustrated, both at myself and at Caleb. In the course of this whole discussion, I remembered a blog post I had read by a friend of mine, an elementary school music teacher, on the beauty of the words, "I forgive you." After I put Eli in his crib in the boys' room, I sat by Caleb's bed.

"How do you feel?" I asked Caleb.
"Sad," he sobbed.
"Do you think Mommy was bad?"
"Yes."
"What did I do that was bad?"
"I don't know."
"Remember how you said I was mean. Was I being mean?"
"Yes."
"I was mean, Caleb. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean. Can you forgive me?"
"Yes."
"Do you think you were bad?"
"I can't remember."
"Were you being wiggly and crazy and making it hard for me to brush your teeth?"
"Yes. Do you forgive me?"
"Yes, I forgive you, Caleb."

And we gave each other a hug. At our house, we are trying to learn about the Holy Ghost and what it feels like.

"When we were fighting, I couldn't feel the Holy Ghost, Caleb. It went away, and I felt so bad inside. I feel so much better now."

And it was true! What a difference it made to make peace and forgive each other! But the fact that my little boy, my very first baby, had this conversation with me and could tell me how he felt and could understand, to some degree, what it means to apologize and forgive, it just reminded me that he's not a baby anymore, which is both wonderful and fantastic and exciting, but is also a little mystifying and maybe in a certain sense even a little sad that he's grown so much.

Eli
There wasn't any drama with Eli today. He had his moments of begging and grunting and whining, but overall there wasn't any real contention.

What astounded me with Eli had to do with when I was making dinner. Eli had been munching on pretzels, and I decided he'd better stop so he would have room for dinner. He still kept hanging out in our (TINY) kitchen and going "eh! eh!" begging and whining. Now, in the past, I've deterred him by handing him something and saying, "Go take this to Daddy." So I knew that he had a basic understanding of following instructions. Today, I was in the midst of setting the table and had the fridge open. He made a grab for the {fako} bacon bits and I was serving a salad, so I said, "Oh good! Go put those on the table, Eli." To my surprise, he did it and came back for more! He then proceeded to load the table with croutons, forks, a cup, and a water bottle (all in the exact same location on the table). Even my current baby is becoming a capable, intelligent, functioning little person. It astounds me and amazes me.

Me
Come to think of it, I have often thought and heard other people express how God must look on us as babies with so little comprehension. If there's an equivalency there, then it gives me some comfort that every once in awhile he must think, "Wow! Look at you! You're doing great! You're growing and understanding and learning. Keep up the good work, little one." I hope that this year will be a year when he will feel that way about me. I hope that this year I will grow a little wiser, a little stronger, and a little more compassionate. Here's to hoping!