My sweet baby boy has entered a “challenging” phase of development. This is clinical speak for “he gettin’ on my nerves”. Gone is my soft smiley purveyor of cuddles; here in his place is this… guy(?) bearing the beginnings of gangly, who says that he hates my food (my food’s not that bad!), that I’m stinky (patently untrue), and implores me to “go away!” (dagger to my heart) when I try to sneak in my quota of cuddles or take him out on dinner dates.
C’mon man, what gives?! Don’t you realize I housed you for 10 months, broke my body open for you, completely changed my insides and outsides for you, and would follow you to the ends of the earth if you let me?
Nah, he don’t care.
What he cares about is that Mommy has been giving Big Sis more time and attention these days. For what it’s worth, Madame Broken Arm currently requires a lot. I bathe her, dress her, take her to appointments, and yes, I have been extra sweet with her because a mom’s heart is soft and weak when their babies are needy. When he’s screaming, “I hate you, Mommy!”, what he really means is, “How could you leave me, Mommy?! I need you too!”
Well-played, little man. I’m proud that his survival systems are strong and intact - kids are built to maintain proximity to their primary caregivers through whatever means possible. Back in our caveman days, babies were nothing more than plump, vulnerable snacks for the predators who roamed the plains. Thank goodness these delicious morsels evolved attachment systems to keep close to their stronger, wiser caregivers and stay alive. Baby Boy definitely captures my attention when he screams he hates me, thus ensuring that a sabertoothed tiger won’t snatch him up.
Despite knowing this, of course my feelings get hurt when he tells me that I smell like a shoe. It's a bittersweet experience for parents as our babies grow and change, even though it's exactly as it should be. Changes and goodbyes always cut us at the knees, even when they're in the direction of growth. Parenting a child is just a stretched-out goodbye, from the moment they stretch the skin of your belly, to the way they gradually stretch away from you to build lives on their own terms.
I realized I've been going at it all wrong with little guy. I've been bemoaning the fact that he's kicking away from me, all while I'm seeking closeness and cuddles on my terms and time. But what about when he wants me to watch him play Minecraft? Or when he's trying to show me something but I'm zoned out and distracted? Or when he wants to tell me the name of every single kid in his class, and which teacher they had last year, and can you believe that the kids from HIS class last year have the SMALLEST number in his current class?!
All relationships are reciprocal, even (especially?) with kids. We get the connections we build, cultivate, and nurture. Why would I expect him to come to me for a hug and a kiss when I've dismissed that which is important to him?
Yesterday, after a prolonged tantrum full of many tears and proclamations of rage, I got him to eat dinner with me. I wiped his snot and in between ragged sobs, he asked me to carry him into the restaurant. As we waited for our food, I settled him into my lap and asked him to show me how Minecraft works. He softened his body against me and happily consented. Something that seems so inconsequential and unimportant to me is his world.
Today while making lunch, he leaned over his stool and pecked a little kiss on my cheek. It lacks the old exuberance of arms tossed around my neck, but I'll take it. I'm with you however you'll have me, little man.