(Editor’s Note: The writer is on vacation this week. The following is a reprint from the archives from the May 18, 2010 edition.)
Coping with the disorder that comes with two young kids is tricky business.
I would never say being neat and tidy are characteristics of mine, but I do like a certain order in my life to retain some sort of peace of mind. That’s a serious challenge when my boys are involved.
No matter your diligence or commitment, a fact of life with children comes a certain amount of disarray and a lot of clutter.
I have reluctantly come to accept this fact, but it’s still a little frustrating at times.
An unofficial rule around my house is whenever Beckett, a 2 year old with a mischievous nature and some wild antics, takes a nap or is down for the night that the house be reorganized and returned to an acceptable condition.
It’s an exercise in futility to try to keep the house tidy while he’s awake. He’s going to wreak havoc. It’s just his nature and probably the case with most kids his age.
While we work with Beckett on getting him to play with one toy at a time and to clean up after himself, it’s largely unsuccessful at this point.
Once he’s asleep, either for the nap or for the night, we clean up after him with most of the time devoted to gathering his favorite trucks in one place. In our house, the foyer is one of his favorite play areas, and that’s where we line up his dozen of so trucks when he’s sleeping. Subsequently, that’s the first area my son attacks when he wakes up.
As much as we crave a little order, he seems to have a major aversion to it. He immediately notices anything lined up perfectly or stacked neatly and goes about correcting that in his mind.
It’s to the point his love of disorder is spreading into other domains, specifically the kitchen.
One of the pet peeves my wife and I share is an unkempt kitchen counter.
On a recent weekend morning, I had an adult meltdown over it. Fortunately, I was alone, sans Fletch and Bailey, my trusty dogs who can keep secrets. Exhaustion ruled the night before, and the result was a counter full of dirty sippie cups and baby bottles and the sink was home to some dirty dishes because we were too tired to empty the dishwasher the night before.
When I came into the kitchen the next morning to start on the kids’ breakfasts, I regret the first word out of my mouth that morning would not qualify for a ‘PG’ rating.
After getting matters to an acceptable level that morning, Beckett soon made his presence known with some shouts of “banana” from his room. Of course, I immediately realized that any sense of order and calm would soon be tossed aside once my little buddy came downstairs and began running around.
A few weeks ago, I started wondering if maybe this was a game to him.
Therefore, I started watching his reaction when we came downstairs after his nap or first thing in the morning. As I suspected, upon seeing his trucks lined up neatly and his toys placed neatly in the corner, his eyes grew wide and he immediately started squirming out of my arms.
As expected, no sooner than his feet hit the ground, he was off to pull everything out and push and toss his trucks all over the house. All the while laughing and screaming in delight, while I just shook my head and wondered why I even bothered to straighten the place up in the first place.
Something has to give here.
It’s the little things that amaze me with my kids.
Out of nowhere, Beckett has become a hugging bandit, and I am doing whatever I can to make sure this is not just a passing fascination.
When the mood is right, Beckett will give kisses and hugs on demand. That’s not to paint the picture he’s always a wonderful lover boy because you do have to be careful for the accidental Scottish kiss (also known as a head-butt) or some other unfortunate reaction.
If he’s across the room and you get down on your knees and ask for a hug, he may just run straight into you with a head of steam, or he might fake you out steps away and laugh while running away with his arms flailing and head pointed upward.
Yes, Beckett can be quite unpredictable, but there’s nothing better than a big hug and squeeze from my rough toddler. Throw in a kiss and that’s just magical.
Not to be left out is Carson, who constantly amazes me with his mellow attitude and outlook. Far from walking and talking, my 6-month-old baby just goes with the flow. I like to credit him with being perceptive and realizing his older brother is keeping his parents quite busy these days. I think that’s why he laughs so hard when I am chasing Beckett around the house trying to wrestle away the remote control.
Along with this laidback mentality, the unique thing about my youngest son is he just loves being touched anywhere and at any time.
Oddly enough, no matter the time of day or night, Carson will laugh hysterically whenever his diaper is changed. It’s partially because he’s extremely ticklish, but also just that he likes the interaction. That makes what is not always a pleasant task a little more enjoyable.
It’s these mundane developments that make every day different than the last, and that’s probably my favorite part of being a parent. There’s something new everyday to fascinate over, though sometimes it can frustrate (see the first part of this column for evidence of that).
