I love this kid.
I should have known from the minute I found out I was pregnant with him -- actually, maybe I should have known by how difficult it was to even GET that (+). He was a strong willed sperm amongst a million (not a high number) of other sperm that mostly consisted of slow moving, double-headed invalids. (if you ever went through infertility of any sort, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't well...I'm sorry -- or well, I'm not, well hell...you know what I mean.) He was determined. And then there was a pregnancy wrought with worry and fear. Doctors and specialists fearing one thing after another -- first his heart, then the Downs markers, then the fluid levels. We were tested and monitored til we were blue in the face (and in the spirit.) Yet on 3/10/2003, a most perfect, most beautiful, most blue eyed beauty entered my life and forever changed my world as I knew it. I was madly in love.
I still am.
He was a great baby and made it easy for me to appear like I had it all together in the most wonderful June Cleaver kind of way. He was adaptable and sweet. He was happy being busy -- silent in a crowd -- most peaceful when the music was loud and dogs were barking. He was WIDE AWAKE and angry during the quiet times (no sleeping for him). He was just living the only way that made him comfortable.
And he still does.
Only now? It's not nearly as appealing or cute. In fact, many times it's down right difficult. I like to call him my "spirited one." He is Cole. He is fantastically individual and personable. He has his own attitude and doesn't like to back down. He is stubborn and brilliant (and maddening). He transitions well -- no behavior problems at school (in fact, the opposite) and house hopping (as a glorious divorce will grant your children) seems effortless for him. However, when he comes home to me, he is clingy and adorable. He sits on top of me, kisses me, tells me he loves me a million times -- and gets jealous of anyone in my space. This goes for his brother, my husband, our dogs, you name it.
The last year has been increasingly "spirited" on the home front -- especially, at Sunshine's, apparently. From the stories I hear, to the excuses his Dad makes - it's safe to say that he is grossly misunderstood and treated to feel like his "spirit" should be dulled. It saddens me and hurts my heart. See, Cole is a lot like I was as a child. I never sat still. I was all over the place with this energy in my body that soared through my veins. It got me in trouble too. So I'm a bit softer on him than I really should probably be. I understand that corporal punishment is not the way to treat this "spirit" in fact it makes the "spirit" fight back. Cole is NOT like his brother -- who a stern voice and "mom" look makes him cry and retreat. Cole attacks the attacker. Without getting into psycho-analytic babble, Cole needs positive reinforcement. In two households that were raised on "spare the rod, spoil the child" mentality, he's basically screwed.
That said -- I am working with him. I am getting him to understand the benefits of good behavior. We talk a lot -- just me and him. I would like to believe that he feels safe with me. I'm a balance I believe he desperately needs and an understanding ear. I tell him that I was JUST LIKE HIM and try to make him see NOW how much easier life could be if he could channel his energy into something positive. I tell him repeatedly how beautiful his spirit is and how lucky we are to have him. I try to build him up.
Yesterday, I was at work. Cole was "spirited" as all get out, from what Justin and Dane told me. When he was asked to go pick up dog poop, Cole revolted in some crazy anarchy 9 year old way. Justin sent him to his room....and he stayed in there for a couple hours (on his own really, but still). When he asked to come out, Justin took away video games for the day. All of them. Computer. Wii. DS. Apparently, the "spirit" came out again....which wound up in total TWO WEEKS of no video games. I was 30 miles away and I could almost hear his "spirit." (And, let's face it... TWO WEEKS punishes ME too....) I was a bit afraid of what I was facing when I was going to get home.
That said....I called to check in a little while later. My husband was mopping the floor (more on that later *grin*). My eldest was playing on the computer. My baby?...Quietly writing a story.
!!!?????
When I got home, Cole was SO EXCITED to show me his story. Sure, he only wrote one chapter (a page and a half)...but it was ANIMATED and BEAUTIFUL. He has props and acted it out as he read. He was PROUD and HAPPY. And, literally folks, I cried. I had the greatest happiest tears in my eyes...that my husband is strong enough to challenge his spirit without breaking him (or backing down)....that his SPIRIT was DANCING. You could see the wheels turning as he told me about ideas for the next chapter. He was WRITING! He was creating a story and expressing himself in his beautiful words.
He is JUST like his Mom.
And my spirit is PROUD!
