Oh, this boy. This boy takes us right up to the edge of sanity and tries to delicately tip us over that edge, into the abyss.
The incessant repeating of movie and TV dialogue started a few weeks ago. It is a persistent, relentless hum in the background.
Connor: (speaking in a low tone) “YOU are a child’s PLAYthing.” (Toy Story)
Me: “Please stop repeating, honey.”
Connor: “Okay.”
30 seconds later…
Connor: “The pet shop, where is it? Where is the pet shop? No, I said, where is the pet shop?” (from Upside Down Show)
Me: “Sweetheart, you’re driving mommy crazy, please stop repeating.”
Connor: “Okay.”
This scenario is repeated over and over, throughout the day. He just can’t seem to stop himself. But it’s more than that. There is also the incessant arguing and debating. We went out to lunch today, because there was a power outage in the neighborhood. Since Connor has been getting up very early, and not sleeping well, we told him he would need to lay down and rest when we got home.
Connor: “But I don’t feel like I need to rest.”
Me: “But I feel like you do, and you are going to have some quiet time, and there will be no arguing.”
Connor: “Okay.”
30 seconds later…
Connor: “It sure is bright today. I think it’s too bright to lay down and rest.”
Me: “We’re not talking about this anymore.”
Connor: “Okay.”
30 seconds later…
Connor: “I sure hope the power is back on. If the power’s not on, I don’t think I can lay down for a rest.”
Me: “We’re not talking about this anymore.”
Connor: “Okay.”
And on, and on, and on it went. I’m not making this stuff up, either. At the end of kindergarten, they have an awards ceremony where the kids get a certificate for best attendance, most helpful, yadda yadda. Connor got a certificate too. Want to see it???
Our little politician.
Yep, “negotiator” is a nice way of saying “most persistent, most stubborn, most argumentative little jackal that ever graced our hallways.”
This boy, this never-ending stream of repetitive questions, demands, arguments and dialogue is so very much like me, it’s maddening. I used to have a bumper sticker on my car when I was 17 that said “Question Authority.” Damn it, I think I’ve doomed myself.
And after a long day, when I feel like I’m just about ready to strangle him, or take off with a friend on a desperate, edge-of-sanity, Thelma and Louise road trip, it all changes.
He was sent to the bathroom to get his clothes off and turn on the bath water to get his bath ready. I heard the singing, but paid no attention, because we live with a constant background of Connor noise. I went in to check on his progress. There he was, naked, filling the tub with water, and picking out bathtub toys and plopping them into the water. He was singing:
“It’s gonna be the perfect life,
This time, we’re gonna jump up high,
I’m gonna give all my secrets away.“
I stood in the doorway, enjoying the moment, and the improvised lyrics to One Republic’s ‘Secrets’. He turned around, with a startled and embarrassed smile.
Connor: “What?”
Me: “You’re adorable.”
Connor: “It’s a love song, it’s for you.”
This boy. I will never, ever give up fighting for this boy.
.
