With the boys in daycare full time, I now regularly have time for myself, after over 2.5 years. TWO!AND!A HALF!YEARS! Just in time, because as Léo waddles and toddles unsteadily, and as Max’s regular speed is ‘overdrive’, they’re like a race car on an oil slick. There are many accidents, bruises on the head, subsequent crying, calming down and cuddles. Max is not a bad kid, so I don’t like to have to calm him down, rather squash his energy. He needs to release it. Whereas Léo now seems to accept daycare - this is his first experience with the ‘collective’ - daycare is the place for Max. He must agree, because daily, at 5:30pm, he tells me that he’s not “ready to leave yet. Can you come in and play?” I get Léo early so that we can have our few hours of “Mama + Léo” time - personal time that he hasn’t had with me, previously. Max and I had lots of time together, fortunately, for his first 18 months. It seems that I’m constantly making up for last time with these two, and will begin to do so with the husband, this weekend!
Max is a blooming field of curiousity in the wind, with a thousand questions on how things work, why people feel the way they do, what am I doing? what are you doing? and why, why, why? A handful of times, I’ve had to shut down a barrage of ‘whys’ with an authorative, “Because I’m your mother.” That absolutely did not feel like a ‘win’ for me, even though it stopped the interrogation.
As he grows, gets wittier, sassier and more rebellious, I find that I need to improve my game also, as a mother. I read something that resonated with me; a reminder to think of the “end result” with each of my actions. For example, if you hold them too much, what is the possible end result? Against the advice of my family, I held Max constantly, as he was my only ‘job’ for a very long time, and he’s growing into a wonderfully adaptable, confident, easy going little boy. The end result, if these are correlated, is fantastic. With this example, I learned that unless safety is concerned, there’s advice to be considered, but novody is really ‘right’ but me, in raising my boys.
I do strive to be close to them. To be a source of their comfort. Their ’safe’ zone. I want all of this to be the end result. Whereas I normally lose my temper when Max..ohhhh…pushes Leo down or takes Leo’s doudou and runs off cackling like a mad man, leaving Leo crying and toddling after it - I’m trying to remember that he wants time with me, too, wants the attention, and that my angry approach is divisive; both for them, and for Max and me. In Max’s mind, it was always Mama and Max. When we’re alone - while Leo takes his naps, or during our coffee dates in the mornings - he is absolutely calm, perfectly happy to sit on my lap with a book, a puzzle or our blocks, or just to be held, “like a baby,” as he sometimes requests. I wrap him up tight as he snuggles down in my arms as we were when he truly was a tiny baby, and we enjoy the moment. And then he asks, “Am I a little baby now?” If that isn’t pure honesty…. None of the running in circles and screaming or looking for something (body) to knock down.
My husband gently reminded me yesterday, that Max needs me, too. It makes me think, sometimes, that as mature as he’s always been for such a young thing, that he was forced to be a big brother far before he was ready to give up his role as ‘baby.’ It makes me think of a time at a friend’s house, when Max was about 18 months old or so, when she asked us naively, “If you tell him not to touch the food on the coffee table, he won’t touch it, right?” She’s since had her own child, and I’m certain, knows better, but these are the reactions to his personality that he illicits.
I learning, though, that I can’t be a complacent mom. While I’m probably not horrible, I’m learning that I need to grow with my boys to meet their needs. He was up to his usual antics of harassing Leo, yesterday evening, when I asked him to go sit on his bed in the bedroom until I came. If we can’t play nicely together, then we need some space, I told him. I came to him 5 minutes later, and crawled into the cave (the lower bunk) and snuggled in next to him. Here, I decided to try my hand at some ‘emotion coaching’ though I wasn’t certain that he was ready to be on the receiving end; to ‘respond.’ Again, as I am every time I underestimate Max’s sense of awareness, I was mistaken.
“Do you know why you’re in here?” (First mistake. I should’ve just told him why he was there.) The in between was a blur and it didn’t follow the emotion coaching concept to the T, but the end result, 2 minutes later, was excellent.
“…… Is it that you don’t like it when I hold Leo?”
He answers, “Yes.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I want you to hold me, too.” And he crawls on top of me, and rests his face in my neck.
“Of course I’ll hold you. I’ll remember that you need me too. I forget sometimes because you’re such a big boy. But you need to use yours words to tell ME that you want to be held, and not hurt others.”
Later, in the living room where I’m again holding Leo on the sofa, sitting next to the husband, Max grabs his blankets and asks, “Can you hold me, too?” And there, we all snuggled in close.
Because Max has always been pretty mellow, an early speaker thus he didn’t have to cry or whine much for what he needed, etc. and with his old soul eyes, he’s always seemed to be more of a little boy to me, than a baby. More often than not, I forget that he’s still small and needs his Mama. How humbling it was, and what a lesson for me, that he just came out and told me what he needed from me, when I gave him the opportunity.
Hopefully, we’re on our way to understanding the other’s needs. That Max still needs me. That he understands that Leo needs me. That I need to divide my time and affections more equally, as my big boy really sometimes wants his turn to be small, too.
