Sorry, but a long one.....

I am going to forsake part three of my Quirks for now and come back to it. I am too tired and frustrated with my son right now, and this post is about him anyway.

Tonight in church was a trial. While trying to pray, he told me to sit up because he wanted to snuggle. I ignored him initially, but knew he wouldn't give up. I realized I had two choices: to get up and snuggle him and try to pray, or to take him downstairs because my refusal would increase his volume - necessitating the trip downstairs - and therefore get no prayer time in at all. I chose to sit up. He then got on my knee, off my knee, on my knee, off my knee, you get the picture. When he finally seemed settled off my knee, I again knelt down and tried to pray. This resulted in the "pest" routine. This is when he has to touch me in some way, and tonight it was by very slightly pinching my earlobe.

For those of you who have not read The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, I'll quickly explain that in his experience, people usually have at least one domineering love language. These are either quality time, acts of service, words of affirmation, gifts, or physical touch. He explains in great detail the signs of each with the purpose that if you can learn to love your spouse, children, or loved one by their love language, they will be the most content, and in particular with children, their behaviour will improve. Now, I knew almost from the moment Seth entered our world that his love language was physical touch. It has not changed. Besides being a snuggler, hugger and kisser, he is also a total pest in that he always has to be touching in some way. Which is the way he was in church tonight.

I find that at almost four years of age, he is harder to handle in church than he was at age two. People always told me to watch out for the "terrible twos", but at that age he was very good in church and listened a whole better than he does now. It seemed almost from the time he turned three, it's all been downhill, and he has become a regular BOOGER. If that word offends someone, sorry, but it's one of my favorite words for him when I'm frustrated (even if it doesn't make sense).

Seth is a mama's boy. I've been teased quite a bit about that. However, I think any boy whose main love language is physical touch will be a mama's boy simply because moms tend to show the physical affection more than dad's do. Obviously most of the time I love this. Sometimes I do not, especially when it manifests itself by his being a pest.

I remember going through a frustrating time with him around age one (another time we were trying to get him to sleep in his crib through the night). He wanted only me constantly and I felt I could not escape for even a short time. One particular night, Dave had no mercy on me because, after all, it was my fault that he was this way. He was more than willing to help but could do nothing when Seth pushed him away, crying for me. In my frustration, after he finally fell asleep, I wrote a poem. It took me approximately 45 minutes to write it. I have never sat down and written something that just seemed to "pour" out of me. I hardly had to stop and think. When I was done, I felt like I had exorcised, for lack of a better word, the frustration. Here is the poem. Sorry, it's long.

I MADE HIM THIS WAY

Last night I heard for about the 25th time

I needed to do something with this boy of mine

After all, I'm the reason that he just will not sleep;

With the half dozen times he wakes up at night

Not laying in his crib without a big fight

Only rarely closing his eyes without a peep.

So I'll deal with it, I made him this way.

And also the times he screams himself hoarse

Because no one but me can comfort him, of course

Keeping everyone in the house awake at night;

When dad goes in to settle him down

The cries accelerate, waking everyone around

So that half of our cul-de-sac can "hear" our plight.

So I'll deal with it, I made him this way.

And Lord help us all when he wakes in the night

For you know that to him his crib is not right

Which in turn makes me bring him into bed with us;

And he tosses and turns and crawls in the bed

Until I'm sure he's going to fall off on his head

And once again the whole house will hear his fuss.

So I'll deal with it, I made him this way.

Or the times I try to get away for a while

When I leave he gives me a great big smile

But I know he's only okay for an hour or two;

I then get that call, "Can you come home right away?"

"This boy continues to push me away

After all, this is something only you can do."

So I'll deal with it, I made him this way.

So I reply, "Let me explain how things got this way

It could take a while, be patient", I say

But it began when he was only two or three month's old;

He had this cute way of snuggling up to me

And smiling as adorable as can be

Filling me with a love that cannot be told.

There were times when I'd nurse him in the night

When he'd smile that impish smile of delight

Which in turn would make me pull him up close;

We'd rub noses and cheeks, even eyelashes, too

Just about anything that could be rubbed we'd do

Until he'd close his eyes and finally off he'd dose.

So now in that half hour before he goes to bed

A ritual's been formed after he's been fed

That includes all of the above and so much more;

He looks me in the eye and touches my cheek

Sometimes we even play hide and "peek"

So that he's almost asleep before I sneak out the door.

Which explains why at this time in his life

Only mommy is the one who can make things right

But how can I regret nurturing my boy like a king?

Some people say this could make him a sissy

Who likes to give hugs and be kissy, kissy

But let me tell you what I think the future will bring.

I see a brother who's learned that affection's alright

Who'll love his sister and become her knight

He'll fight off her foes and lead the enemy away;

He'll shield her from hurts and fight some of her battles

Put up with her rants and fits and tattles -

I know, because my own brother was this way.

And perhaps even times when he comes home for the day

From whatever adventure has kept him away

And brings a buddy for his dear mom to meet;

He'll give her a hug as quick as you please

Regardless if his dear pal will tease

Maybe he'll even quickly peck my cheek.

And of course he'll go through that terrible stage

When parents aren't cool and girls are the rage

And I'll have to take time to sneak into his room at night;

I'll coax him to tell me about the latest chick

And he'll ask me how in the world he'll pick

And I'll sneak out knowing everything's going to be alright.

I see a husband not afraid to kiss his wife

Or cuddle, or hug, or hold her tight

He won't be afraid for all the kids to see;

He'll give her love pats and tweak her cheek

And even when those little darlings peek

He'll show them the way a husband's supposed to be.

He'll cuddle his babies when they cry at night

And try his best to make everything right

He'll wrestle and play and pull them on his knee;

They'll see that he loves them because it'll show

Everyone who sees him can't help but know

He's trying to be the best daddy that he can be.

And when he finally comes to see his old ma

He'll give her a hug, and one also for pa

He'll make time to hear her even if she yaps all night;

He'll listen to her stories and let her reminisce

And when he returns home he'll even give her a kiss

That just made mom's day so much more bright.

So I guess I'll just deal with it - I made him this way.

My purpose for this post? The same as this poem. By the time I've finished it, my frustration is gone. Once again, I'm content, and I wouldn't trade anything about my children for anything in the world.

Good night.