Why Parenting a Young Child At My Age Is Not a Good Idea

As you all know, my daughter and her six-year-old son, Elijah, live with me. If you don’t know, then you don’t read many of my blogs and you should be. With my daughter’s new work schedule, I am taking an even more active role in Elijah’s day-to-day care. Getting him ready for bed. Getting him ready for school and all that entails. Driving him to before care. Taking care of him on the weekends. It’s a huge adjustment and I’ve realized now why God in his infinite wisdom decided to cut off childbearing for women at a certain age.

Number one is lack of patience. As you get older you are supposed to gain it but when dealing with a child, especially this one, I’ve learned that I have less than I had when my own kids were his age. Probably because he is a boy and another part because he is a little more…or a lot more…to handle than they were. Into EVERYTHING. Curious about EVERYTHING. Wanting EVERYTHING. I’m exhausted beyond belief at the end of the day.

Of course there is a lack of energy. Because see paragraph above.

Number three would be lack of free time. I’m used to picking up and going wherever, whenever. Now I have to make sure Elijah is wearing clean clothes, doesn’t have snot or something equally gross on his face and goes pee before we get out the door. Oh, and everywhere we go, he has to be wearing something weird. A ninja mask. A sword or two tucked into the back of his shirt. A turtle shell with a strange hat or shoes. And God forbid if he should happen to leave something behind. That is EPIC. When we arrive at wherever, whenever, I have to get him out of the car. Now with normal kids, this isn’t a problem. You open the back door, unbuckle the child and get to where you want to be. With him, you have to argue about why swords/guns/toys have to stay in the car. “Because weapons are not allowed in public places.” or “They’ll think you stole that power ranger if you take it in the store”. Or “BECAUSE I SAID SO!!!!!” Which is usually how it ends up.

Next would be a lack of ideas. Because Elijah is so gosh darn precocious, it takes a lot of activities to keep him occupied and out of trouble. He’s always bored (insert annoying, whiny voice here). And when he’s bored, he gets into a lot of trouble. You can read previous blogs to see the numerous ways he gets himself in hot water. So I need to come up with good ideas to stimulate his already overactive brain. Especially with the cold winter we just had and the so-far rainy spring. As a for instance, this past weekend, it was raining. What to do, what to do? One of the ideas was travel. Not outside. In his bedroom. We sat on his bed, pulled the blankets over our faces, “blasted off” (there was a lot of boy spit involved in this) and landed in another location. We went to a farm, the Amazon Rain Forest and to the moon, among other equally fabulous places. Then we described what we were “seeing.” Fun. And imaginative, if I do say so myself. Well done, Yaya.

 Then we played hide and seek. With a conversation that went like this:

Elijah: “I’m hiding, Yaya. You need to find me.”

Me: “Ok.” Not moving from my spot lying on the floor. Due to aforementioned lack of energy.

Elijah: “Are you looking for me?”

Me: “Yup.” Still not moving.

Elijah: “Um, you actually have to get up to look for me.”

Me: “Mmmhmm. Looking.”

Elijah: Gets up and tells me with a loud laugh…”I was under my covers the whole time!!!”

Me: “I know. I saw you hide there. If you want to really hide, you can’t let the other person see where you go.”

Elijah: “Oh.”

Fortunately, I am blessed with the talent to do two things at once, like nap and play games simultaneously.

My other activity ideas include going to Toy’s R Us, which he thinks is so cool. It’s like going to visit a friend who has pretty much every single toy in the world. One weekend we spent at the local swamp doing a tour, which was the “absolute coolest.” Snakes and junk. Next weekend is the annual visit to the zoo. I’m really beginning to hate the zoo but it keeps him amused so who’s to argue. At this point, I’ll do anything legal. Because you can only watch so much television.

Ah, then there is a lack of sleep. The boy NEVER sleeps through the night. In fact, when he does, I give him a treat. Or a dollar. Hey, I’m not above bribing the child so I can get some rest. But he either has to pee (must have the smallest bladder in the history of six-year-olds), has a bad dream or is cold. Or he just had a thought that I needed to hear immediately. I mean like right now. At 3:00 a.m.

Lastly, there is a lack of blog time. But then again, with him, I have an unlimited amount of things to blog about so I guess there is a payoff. When I get the time. I have a lot of sticky notes with ideas written down. Maybe someday…

So that’s why I quit having babies after I hit twenty-five. I’m sure my daughters are relieved. But not as much as I am. Because this is harder than you think.

So Now He's Six

I wrote a while back about Elijah’s obsessions throughout his short life and we have more of them as he grows. He has always been an interesting little guy, making us proud at every opportunity. Grabbing knowledge like it was food for his soul. I think he is a geek, if one so young can be called such. What other six-year-old walks around counting everything or spelling his sight words at the top of his voice? Telling his Pap Pap about the adventures of the Anaconda or describing the size of a tooth from the Megaladon (which, incidentally, is the largest whale to ever swim the oceans)? Well, he turned six years old this month and he is still showing the same intensity in everything he does and, while he is still wanting to visit his fire and police stations, his focus has changed to other things.

How about garbage trucks? His whole fifth year was learning about the garbage trucks. Our trash collector comes anywhere from 5:00 to 7:00 a.m. on Monday’s and Friday’s. No matter how early, there’s a boy in the window watching. And then telling us about it in a loud shriek. Early in the morning. Before coffee.

He’s borrowed every DVD in the library that has a garbage truck in it. We now know how they are built. We know where they are built. We’ve learned about front loaders and rear loaders and their functions. But his personal favorite is the automated side loader. Yes, he has a favorite refuse collector. For those of you who may not have ever seen one, it has a robotic arm that swoops up your trash can, empties it into the truck and deposits it gracefully back on the sidewalk, thereby eliminating the need for the additional trash man riding the back in between stops. I actually had to follow one of those smelly things home once so he could observe the process. What we do in the name of love.

Hello, music. Of course, his love of music goes way back. Since his introduction to the Imagination Movers…if you don’t know who they are, you best be scrolling through my blogs to learn… at about eight months of age, music has been in his life. And we are a music loving family. But of course Elijah being Elijah, he has to take it one step further. He eats pizza and makes up a song about what pizza is or what’s on it. He sees something on TV and right away he’s singing about it. Commercial jingles. Movie soundtracks. He’s on it. This is in addition to knowing every word to every song the Movers have ever released.

            

           

But the latest real obsession is Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He was Donatella for Halloween. Our Christmas included two, yes two, Shell Raiser vehicles, stickers, ninja dudes, masks, swords, jammies and a sweatshirt…you name it, he got it. His Christmas money was spent on a large sized Rafael and a helicopter thing with buckets for ooze. His sixth birthday? TMNT sheets, comforter, throw, tattoos, Michelangelo and birthday cake…along with the appropriate decorations, napkins and plates. He spent his birthday money on a shell. That he refused to take off once he got to the cashier (she had to scan it while it was on his back). Wherever we go, he wears a mask, and now his shell, and carries a sword. We attract a lot of attention.

                                                     

Along that line, he has a mild, if anything Elijah does can be considered mild, romance with the Power Rangers. Who, incidentally, fight the ninjas. He has every color, with weapons included. Our battles of the rangers and the ninjas rage long and loud.

I wonder, as always, how long the latest “thing” will last. How long I will be transporting a ninja turtle to Target or the mall. How long will he scan the insert that comes with each turtle looking for next winner? How long will I be waging war as a power ranger against the mighty ninja turtle dudes? It doesn’t matter. As long as Elijah is along for the ride…or driving the shell raiser…I’m willing to play along. He has such style and energy, you can’t help but love it. And him.

Butter Me Up

A couple of months ago, I was reintroduced to my other “grandson”. He’s sweet, pretty well mannered (as opposed to my other guy) and he’s six years old. His name is Butters. Strange name for a little boy? Look at his picture and you’ll see that it’s not. Actually it is but don’t tell his momma I said that…

                                          

Having a grandcat is pretty much like having a human grandchild. With a few exceptions. I never had to change his diaper…only his litter box. I don’t know which is worse. I never have to feed him. Just dump it in a bowl and he’s good to go. Same with his water. He never cries himself to sleep or has to be told to stay in bed. He doesn’t talk back…well, not really. Ok, he does but all I have to do is hiss at him and he backs off.

Like a human child, I can buy him things. Kitty treats are always welcome. And he loves to play so I can buy him toys, although his favorite thing to play with is a hair tie. Or two. Which he will steal from you if you aren’t careful. Or a plastic bag (he’s not allowed to have those, of course). His favorite actual toy is his little red lobster, which he throws in the air and rubs his cheeks on. Sometimes he just hangs with the lobster…I think he forgets it’s there.

       

As with my human grandchild, Butters expects certain things. Mainly, he wants his evening Yaya time. Every night after Elijah is in bed, it is my time with him. We play with the hair ties, his mousy or…the lobster. And like my time with Elijah, I rarely come away unscathed. I don’t get football injuries or black eyes from wayward elbows. I get scratches and bites. He doesn’t mean to, really he doesn’t. He just gets overly excited.

Butters tends to be a bed hog. As I type this, he is laying in the middle of the bed. Sprawled out leaving little room for me except on the edge. When I mention that he leaves little room, I need to tell you that my guy weighs almost twenty pounds. Yes, he is a large baby.

                                 

He also has a bad attitude at times. No temper tantrums but you do know when he’s not happy with you. Because you get the butt…along with a disgruntled look now and then with tail twitches.

                                  

All in all, I’m quite happy with this addition to my household. It’s not all fun and games with Elijah thinking he’s a toy but I’ve missed having a kitty in my house and occasionally sleeping beside me. Most of all, I have to admit, I’m really happy that Butters brought his mom home to me.