Showing posts with label nephew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nephew. Show all posts

Monday, July 11, 2011

I Say No, No, No

I was lucky enough to spend some time with my favorite little person this weekend. (That makes it sound like I have a preferred adult who is height-challenged, like the Wizard of Oz munchkins, and we hang out. Sorry. Poorly phrased.) The Nephew has recently turned two, and although we've all heard horror stories about "The TERRIBLE TWOS," I don't think he's in the least bit terrible. What he is is opinionated.

The Nephew knows what he likes and what he doesn't. If he likes something, he wants that. Now. And he's not to be dissuaded from it unless he finds something else he likes better. If he doesn't like something, he's equally passionate about that. How he lets you know he doesn't like whatever the thing is?

"NO."

"NO," I don't want to read the book about Buzz Lightyear, I want to read the book about Lightning McQueen.

"NO," I don't want my juice at this moment.

"NO," I don't want to play on the swing, I want to go down the slide.

Sometimes he elaborates; you also get a "No no no," a "No don't DO that," and, my favorite, "Don't sing that song," directed at me (the kid knows I can't sing. Already! So intelligent! I suppose it could be that he didn't like the song, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't the case. Who doesn't like "The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers"?)

I am in awe of his conviction. I absolutely adore it. If that sounds sarcastic, you're taking it wrong. I think it's amazing. I know, as we age, we can no longer just scream "NO!" when something occurs that we don't want, agree with, or like. I know, as the adults in his life, his parents, my parents, and his extended family, of which I am a part, are in charge of discouraging this behavior. Soon, it will no longer be accepted, as he will no longer be an adorable toddler but a school-age child, expected to get along with others. As adults, even as children, we have things to worry about: people's feelings, our jobs, people's opinions of us, and acting like a well-behaved member of society, where screaming "NO!" will get you at least, strange looks in public, and, at most, committed.

There are situations, however, where I vow, following his example, to start using The Nephew's vehement NO.

NO, I will not feel guilty about the things I am excited about. I am a proud geek; I no longer have to hide this fact. I will not pretend I watched American Idol last night; instead, if you ask, I will tell you I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD for the fifteenth time. I will not be embarrassed and make a sad face and say, "I know, I'm so crazy!" when you tell me "but EVERYONE likes Extreme Makeover: Home Edition!" and look at me like I'm deficient for not watching it. I will not hide the title of the book I'm reading and tell you it's "some silly fantasy novel;" I'll tell you, instead, that I'm reading A Game of Thrones, and proudly. I will let my geek flag fly and I will stop my self-deprecatory behavior when it pertains to my interests. If I can be myself online I can let that bleed into my real life.

NO, I will not act like I know nothing about politics because I don't want to get involved in a debate. We may disagree, but my opinions are just as valid as yours. And, additionally, NO, I will not accept it when, instead of having a rational discussion, you start screaming or telling me that I, or my opinions, or my point of view, are stupid. I, and they, are not, no more than you, or yours, are. We are adults and can have a rational, adult discussion without raised voices or namecalling.

NO, I will not feel guilty about blocking people from my various social networking sites whose contributions I find harassing, derogatory, rude, unnecessarily vulgar, or overly avid to the point of borderline stalkishness. I will not spend days worrying what they will think, say or do if I block them; I will just block them, because life is too short to voluntarily invite emotional vampires into one's life.

NO, I will not allow work to get to me, mentally, to the point where I am weeping in the bathroom and letting what happens to me during office hours color the rest of my day. Most people don't like their jobs; I just tend to take my dislike more personally than most. I will act like an adult, grow a pair, and use my words.

NO, I will not say yes when I really mean no. Not for big things, anyway. Small things can't be avoided, but there's nothing worse than looking back on something you've gotten yourself into because you didn't say no in the first place when you knew you should have.

NO, I do not like it when you choose to make eye contact with my chest, rather than my eyes. I don't find it flattering and I don't find it sexy. If you can't be bothered to make eye contact, then I can't be bothered to continue this conversation, take you seriously, or give my full attention to whatever it is you are attempting to tell me to do. Demeaning me by regarding me as a body part rather than an intelligent, capable woman is not acceptable.

NO, I will no longer overextend myself to the point of getting 4 hours of sleep a night. I deserve better than this. I am no longer a teenager who can do this on a regular basis. I will stop accepting tasks that require me to stay up long past the time I should be asleep; if that means I can't participate in activities I find enjoyable, then those activities will have to go on without me.

NO, I will no longer second-guess my emotions. I feel the way I feel. People, and myself, telling me "you're being silly" or "that's not the way it happened" is belittling me, my experience, and what I'm going through. If something has upset me, there is a reason for it. Don't tell me it's because I'm "overemotional," "tired," or "melodramatic." I may be all three of those things, but there's a deeper problem as well.

NO, I will no longer look in the mirror and see nothing but my flaws. I will see them (let's be honest, I don't know anyone who's confident enough to look in a mirror and not see any flaws at all), but I will also see a strong, capable, intelligent, one-of-a-kind woman looking back at me, and I will be proud of her and all she's been through that has gotten her to where she is today.

Eventually, The Nephew will get over his "NO"'s, and things will be quieter for us all. I, for one, will miss them, a little. They're brave, those no's. They know what they want. They don't give a shit what anyone else thinks. They deserve celebration.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

No! Myself! Up! Now! Juice!

My nephew is almost two. I don't get to see him as much as I'd like, as he lives upstate, but every time I do I learn more interesting things about children. My knowledge of them is limited to babysitting many, many years ago, so it's a little fuzzy, but here are some things I have learned about two-year-olds from hanging with the kiddo:

1. Two-year-olds are LOUD. Like, pitches and tones only caught by sensitive dog-ears loud.

2. Two-year-olds are opinionated about everything - both things that matter ("No! APPLE juice! Not ORANGE juice!") and things that don't ("I am NOT A MOUNTAIN GOAT!") (OK, yes, I am aware that technically he is a child and not a goat. Only, he was head-butting things, and climbing up everything in sight. Hence the comparison.)

3. Two-year-olds think the world revolves around them. Which, ok, it kind of does, when you're that age. You can't really get anywhere, do anything, make any decisions, etc. yourself - someone is always doing something for you. So it's a fair assumption that the world is there for your pleasure. Everything belongs to the kiddo. "My (insert item here - cell phone, water bottle, car keys, book)!" Even when his hands are full of all of the other things that are his. And he won't drop anything that's his. It becomes a toddler's Sophie's choice - what to take? What to leave? The matchbox car or the toy cell phone? Which? WHICH ONE?

4. Two-year-olds think someone will always be there to catch them. This is kind of a continuation of #3. We went to the playground (which - tangentially - is a horrorshow. There are a million places a child can be injured there. Was this as dangerous when I was young? How was I allowed to play there? Sharp things! Metal things! Things that move when you step on them - which only scared me, not the toddler, because I have a fear of the ground moving under my feet due to a childhood suspension bridge incident!) and there was a ladder. He almost stepped off into space, I think assuming that either his mother or myself would be there to help him with it. That kind of blind faith is both heart-swellingly touching and gut-numbingly chilling. (OK, stop freaking out. He didn't step off, his mother was right behind him and asked him nicely to stop, he did, I stood on the other side of the ladder, and I showed him how to climb down it while gripping his little waist for dear life. But - very dangerous planning, playground. That ladder was my height, and I am 5'8. He is a wee fella! That's like 4 stories to him!)

5. Two-year-olds are more dramatic than theater people. It is awe-inspiring, really. The tiniest imagined slight, or fall, and the level of hysterics is Academy Award-worthy. Also, the waterworks can be shut off at a moment's notice. I think, instead of taking theater classes, we could all benefit by watching toddlers at play. That is dedication to one's craft. I AM ANGRY I AM CRYING NOW I AM PLAYING AGAIN. AND SCENE.

6. Two-year-olds are capable of conversations that are not as one-sided as you might think. Example: "Cars can fly?" "No, kiddo, I don't think so." "Yes!" "No, not yet. Only on The Jetsons." "Why?" "Because we were promised things in the future that have not yet come to fruition, I guess. It only gets worse from here. You have to learn to live with disappointment." "I have car fly?" "Maybe someday. Maybe someday." "I have car fly!" "Oh, yes, look there, your toy car has wings and I misread this entire conversation. Why does your toy car have wings oh ok nevermind now we're going to throw candles on the floor. Cool."

7. Two-year-olds have the attention span of a gnat with ADD who just ate an entire box of Froot Loops.

8. Two-year-olds - at least this one, I haven't met another one who can, at least - have the amazing superpower of turning this bitter, jaded, sarcastic bitch into a smushy puddle of goo. You cannot, no matter how hard you try, be in a bad mood around this child. It is an impossibility.

So I guess what you can take away from this is: unless the two-year-old is yours, or beloved by you, it is probably an age you want to avoid, as it is loud and messy. Me, I'll take it. I get to see the kiddo again in 6 days. I'm already gearing up for more conversations. I think we'll tackle the meaning of life this time around.