Skip to main content

Kate and James and all the good things

This blog has had a very narrow focus--mainly issues with Jane, birth family, and social workers--and so I thought I'd take a moment to write a bit about the other two in our Three Little Musketeers trio.

First, Kate is almost three. Her birthday is next month. She is teaching me why the term "threenager" was coined. Oh my, is she ever. All my boys had more difficult threes than twos (I don't know where Terrible Twos came from) but it's about stubbornness and big-opinion-but-deficient-vocabulary scenarios. Kate, on the other hand, has as much attitude and emotional fluctuation as my actual teenagers. I mean, thank god all this attitude is in a body that only comes to my waist, and also that she has the attention span of a toddler so she genuinely forgets why she was being pissy, because, wow, that girl can bring it.

And I keep having this moment where I realize that Jane came to us just two months into her three year old year. Poor thing. If she was dealing with all this adjustment to the world that makes a normal three-yr-old difficult to be around, plus removal from birth family and adjustment to a new home with a ton more rules than she'd ever experienced before...wow, in hindsight she actually coped remarkably well.

But, back to Kate. While she's frequently miss sassy pants she is also incredibly funny. I feel like I can't stop watching her. She just moves funny. She just looks and talks funny. I don't mean weird, I mean like she could be headed to the stage as a comedian someday. She has this huge personality and is utterly confident and entertaining.

And her vocabulary! Oh my goodness that girl never stops talking. It's almost compulsive at times; nonstop narration. The other day she said this whole thing in the two minutes it took her to go potty:
"I have to go potty. Dere my potty. Dere it is. My potty has wittle part and big part and I sit on the wittle part and only mama dumps the wittle part, not me, I mall girl, I mall but den I be BIG girl, I be big girl and I go on BIG potty but not yet. Now I have mall potty and I go pee all by myself. I can do it. And when I go poo I push VERA hard, like dis, VERA VERA hard. I can do it. I big girl now."

And it went on from there. Just talking to herself--all her little thoughts about being big or small said out loud. A few months ago she was putting an /s/ sound on every word she said and now she isn't putting it at the front or the back of any word. She also says a /d/ sound for /th/. I love that she says, "vera" instead of "very". So many little quirks so she sounds little and cute and she's just chattering constantly. Highly adorable and entertaining. (Maybe because all my boys were late talkers so I'm enthralled by the dialogue of little people.)

James, meanwhile, is growing by leaps and bounds. Specifically in the area of independence. Yesterday I saw he had a bandaid on his hand and I asked who put it there and he said he did it by himself. I was shocked. I truly didn't even know that he knew where the bandaids were kept. He had a little scratch on his hand and then off he went to find a bandaid, get it unwrapped, and then put it on properly which is hard to do one handed. It's kind of amazing.

A few weeks ago he suddenly started making his own PB&J sandwiches. (I love that when he puts the top slice on he says, "there, make the house, put the roof on, like that, nice!" as if he's building with the bread.) And he went overnight from me dressing him to him being completely independent. I think the theme with James, as with my other boys, is that they can do whatever they want---once they want it. They're never gonna do something until they're motivated intrinsically. Good kids; but hard to motivate as a parent.

James has gotten really cuddly the last few weeks. I love it. He just wants to sit or lay by me. Just touching quietly. Usually I stroke his arm or back or head. I love the quiet with him. He's an incredibly peaceful little boy. My mom says it's because he's been raised in a home full of love so he can rest confidently in that. I think it's also his nature.

He's incredibly imaginative. So much of his play is him staring off into space thinking about something. Lining up his toys and studying them and then imagining his own story with them. I've always loved watching him play.

Lately he's becoming more articulate about the girls. He will now tearfully tell me that, "I jellish" (jealous) or, "I fusteereeted" (frustrated). It's good because then I can help him work through using words to solve the dispute. I'm glad he's speaking up when he's mad instead of physically lashing out. He's genuinely gentle and sweet.

So, as I look back over the year since I started this blog, we're in a whole different place. My worst fears about Jane have subsided. James and Kate are cute and doing well. Seth is amazing and I'm so proud of him--his character and intelligence and creativity and drive. He's so ready to launch to college and I'm so happy for him. Gus is--well, a teenager--but not too bad of a one. He still loves to talk to me. He still wants to be connected to us so we'll weather the hormonal storm okay, I think.

If all our kids are genuinely good kids, we must be doing something right. 2019 was a terribly hard year I didn't know if I'd survive. But, we did. It's well and truly behind us. Time to take a little breather and enjoy the good things.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Separation for Me

 One more note about yesterday. I noticed that when the girls were acting up yesterday I truly was not angry. I felt back in my old EI teacher groove where I could calmly observe and reflect to a student but never feel personally involved in the drama. It felt so nice! The equilibriam I was famous for when teaching but that I've struggled to find in my own home.  Being away was so good for me. Thinking other thoughts; being competent around other smart people. Life affirming to me as a human, not just the mother-drone trapped in a small house doing small things repeatedly all day long.  I absolutely have to have professional level conversation and interactions to maintain my sanity. Essential.

Practice

 This morning I was preparing Jane for her day. Upbeat and warm, but factual. Running through my expectations for her (be kind to others, tell the truth, don't sneak) and the consequences (removal from play with others). It's a familiar routine and she participated in it easily. But at the end her face hardened and she was angry. I asked her to name her feelings. First she attempted to deflect, said she felt sad. I asked again. This time she looked me dead in the eye and said, "talking about the bad things makes me want to do them".  Well, at least she's honest. (which, truly, is huge) I asked her tell me more. She said that me telling her she can't lie makes her want to lie just to see if she can get away with it. (The honest truth is that when she said that it made me angry, just want to lock her in her room forever. I have to fight my impulse and not show any reaction that would feed into, and distract from, the goal. But it's hard for me to walk away f

Birthday Grinch

And just like that next year I wanna be that smug, killjoy, lefty parent who sends out birthday invites that fake-polite demands attendees do not bring gifts but instead make a donation to a charity of the child's choice. When everyone knows said child doesn't care about the charity and would've loved some loot. Why? Two garbage bags of plastic film, cardboard, twisty-tie wrappings I had to cut and wrestle from around every gift.  TWO! bags of packaging and plastic crap toys that Jane never saw but went straight into the trash. For example, the exact same kind of doll shoes that Jane stuck up her nose months ago. We're not risking a repeat of that, thank you. (Kept the doll, just ditched the shoes.) Also, plastic necklaces with real metal clasps that her tiny hands can't do and I'm not gonna do up and undo every two seconds, thank you. (Not to mention the choking hazard to the 2 yr old when her big sister decides to dress her up with them and inevitably s