the simple things

It is truly amazing to watch a small child play and try and figure things out.  John has headed back to school for his last class of the day (he has a few hours in between classes), leaving Johnny and me to hang out.  Really, Johnny should be napping right now (he is tired and mommy really needs a break), but instead he has decided to do some rearranging for me.  By "rearranging" I mean he has decided to take each and every book off of our book case (off the shelves he can reach) one by one, walk over to me very carefully and then hand me the book with a huge pacifier grin on his face.  If any of you have ever been to our house or ever helped us move, you understand the horrifying volume of books that we own.  I could have said no, I could have saved myself from all of the work of putting the books back on the shelf (especially since I still have a little bit of a cold in my sinuses and it makes my head pound to do too much moving around)...but if you could see how happy it made him to hand me a book & hear "thank you, bubby, you are such a big help", you would've too.

He is a boy, and boys get into everything...for him, this is some amazing fun to take the books off the shelf one by one and hand them to me.  Being as old as I am (the ripe old age off twenty-two), my mind has been corrupted and influenced in ways that make it difficult for me at times to understand what it is like to take pleasure from the simple things.  The good thing about being a parent though is that there are times when you watch your child trying to learn something new and you can step back and just exist in that very moment...and only that moment.  Sometimes, if you detach yourself just enough to let the rest of the world fall away, you can find yourself smiling over a pile of books slowly building in your lap, or your son's  little heartbeat against your chest as they nap, or even the first smell of autumn that reminds you of leaves & cider & school & cuddling with a good book.

From one perspective, this day seemed to be slow & unproductive, but from another perspective I was involved in creating memories for my son...maybe someday my son will smell autumn or see a stack of books and have warm memories of me with him (I can only hope)...Today my son taught me something too; helped to shift my perspective.  He helped me to step back and enjoy the simple things.  I am creating memories for him & he is creating memories for me, and sometimes it astonishes me just how much impact one little person could have on my life.

I wish I could see the world from his eyes; so innocent and so much hope & trust & awe.  Why do we lose so much of that as we grow older?  It seems like you spend your childhood trying to grow up as fast as you can so you can "know everything", and then you spend your adulthood trying to undo the jaded outlook & try and envying those still young enough to have the most optimistic worldview.  I guess that is why being a parent is so wonderful...you get to keep your knowledge and your memories, but your child keeps you grounded and reminds you to relax every now and then & to stop and appreciate the simple things in life.  Who knew we need them as much as they need us?  God, apparently.  He created the perfect bond in the world: love.  And this bond is usually the most naked and real to us in the simple moments & the little things we do for each other, like spending the afternoon smiling & watching your toddler hand you books with a proud smile on his face.

*Now if only I can make getting him to nap as peaceful* ;)

Edited note: It is 6.32 right now and the few hours that have passed since the delightful & contemplative post that is directly above this edited note have been horrid.  Johnny got really grumpy and tired and it took the little energy I had (due to illness) just to get him to fall asleep.  Less than an hour later he wakes up screaming & thrashing.  The next 45 minutes was an all-out brawl between me and the Terrible Two.  I call him the "Terrible Two" because in these moments he is NOT the sweet little Johnny that I like to claim as my son.  This brawl involved a hulk-strength toddler hitting me in the face repeatedly, wrestling with, screaming blood-curdling screams (I'm sure the neighbors think I am abusing him, since some of these screaming tantrums are daily), and eventually mommy breaking down into uncontrollable sobs...yes, you heard me: I cried.

The last 15 minutes consisted of Johnny screaming and crying and thrashing and hitting (I couldn't let him go because he kept trying to hit his head against walls and throw himself backwards off the bed)--all while I'm sobbing & yelling "no" & desperately pleading & praying that he will just stop crying long enough for John to get home from school.  Eventually the screaming & thrashing did subside (at which time I was utterly exhausted) and the Terrible Two drifted off into sleep...somehow becoming his sweet little Johnny self again).

Fast forward until about 10 minutes ago when my son woke up from his nap.  His daddy went and got him and was greeted with huge smiles (totally unfair).  Once Johnny was out in the living room, my son then proceeded to hit himself in the head, look @ me, make a sound like me sobbing/yelling, and then laugh.  Yes, LAUGH.  Like deep belly laughs & hysterics.  He didn't just do this once...no, he proceeded to repeat this over and over again for ten minutes.  John seems not to want to believe that his "sweet precious Johnny" could do this or that he is reenacting our fight, but it seems too much of a coincidence that he would hit his head, look @ ME, then laugh hysterically.

What kind of monster came from my womb??  Where did my sweet little boy who always loved mommy & gave her kisses go???  It is going to be a LONG road out of the terrible twos.  And I sincerely hope that the saying "the terrible twos, trying threes, and freaking fours" has no substance or truth to it @ all.  I hope this ends soon.  Very soon.  My sanity cannot take much more.  I am teetering on the edge of curling into the fetal position in the corner and pulling my hair out the next time he decides to throw a tantrum over nothing.  *Sigh*  Seeing as how this is a daily occurrence & time outs don't seem to work since he has mastered the "toddler back" (aka "limp noodle", "boneless", "spineless") and I can't actually get him to sit in a corner, I don't think this stage is going to end soon enough.  Wish me luck everyone, and don't be surprised if very soon I am writing to you all from within the walls of a mental institution.  Lucky for Johnny I love him so darn much. Grrr.