The other day at pick-up time, Naveen’s preschool teacher asked me if he’d ratted her out yet. When I looked confused she explained that on a few occasions during disciplinary moments, he’d looked saucily into her eyes and said “You (are) mean Jennathea. I’m gonna tell my mommy on you!”
We had a good laugh and I made sure she knew that I fully expected her to correct him in whatever way they espoused at the daycare and also that he did nothing but rave about how much he loved her to all of us at home.
I have to tell you though, as worrisome as it might seem that my two year old has little to no respect for authority, I was secretly delighted that he’d stood up to her when he felt he’d been wronged.
Maybe it had something to do with spending most of my childhood afraid of the grown-ups around me.
And Thursday after work when I was finally in comfy pants, a glass of wine in hand, I flat-out refused to play with Deaglan. I told him I’d had a long day and needed to sit and enjoy my drink. I suggested he either watch TV or play with his brother.
I felt no guilt whatsoever.
Before you go patting me on the back don’t forget that my almost five year old still sleeps in our bed and my preschooler almost always has his hands in my shirt, the aftermath of nursing him until his second birthday. Last week when we had some neighbors over for a Christmas drink, when the wine had loosened us all up a bit, one of the ladies asked in the kindest way possible if Naveen was pinching my chest.
“Yes,” I shrugged. “After I stopped nursing Deaglan, he took to putting one of his hands into my armpit for comfort. In fact he still does it sometimes. This guy,” I pulled Naveen’s hand out of my blouse for the hundredth time, “seems to prefer my bosom.” We all laughed.
What can you do?
Yesterday Shaune transformed our kitchen into a photo studio to get some shots for our Christmas card. As the photographer's assistant it was my job to get these two knuckleheads to stand still.
To stand against the back-drop.
To stand together.
I hate being the photographer's assistant!
I started out with some idle threats. "If you guys don't stand still and smile, there will be no dessert after dinner!" Their non-cooperation told me that promising something so far into the future (it was only noon) was doing me no good.
They perked up a bit.
The smiles weren't what I wanted so I used the one trick I knew would work like a charm. I hated to encourage it but I was desperate. "Naveen," I sniffed the air, "did Deaglan toot?"
And just like that I got all these beautiful smiles.
Of course Naveen felt the need to demonstrate the tooting.
And Deaglan ruined at least a hundred great shots with this creepy little smile.
Sweet reindeer sweaters courtesy of Aunt Laura last Christmas.