I think I may have mentioned in the past that George can be a bad, bad, bad little boy. He ignores direct commands and often smiles in response to scolding. He gets into EVERYTHING and has recently targeted anything that Eleanor considers “special to her.”
I can’t even tell you how many times I had to look for a little plastic raccoon from her Disney Princess game today (Side note: Will someone please let me know which princess had a raccoon familiar? Maybe Snow White during her sojourn in the woods?) George kept grabbing it and running away. I thought Eleanor might have a nervous breakdown the third time it happened. And I thought I might have a nervous breakdown if I overheard just one more occurrence of evil giggling in response to her wails of despair.
Last Sunday when I picked up my three from the kids’ gym at the YMCA, I was informed by a woman on duty that George was cute, but he was “a handful.” Oh really – ya’ think? Exactly why am I going to the gym on a Sunday? Because they offer two hours of FREE CHILDCARE for my devil spawn son.
Okay, okay – he’s not that bad. But he really is exhausting. I don’t have to get into the screaming (it’s been well covered here I think), the intensity that could shatter glass through vibration alone, or the irrational need to finish every sentence no matter what catastrophe just occurred (“George – stop screaming – you can tell me about your Spiderman bandaid AFTER I put out the grease fire.”) And the naughtiness that started developing last year has now come to full fruition. He’s officially a bad, bad, bad little boy. Even if he is cute.
And unlike his older brother, he is an instant acolyte to any older boy who crosses his path. Luckily, we have a lot of good kids on our block. But I’m sorry – four year olds are not supposed to roam the neighborhood at will. Especially not on a scooter.
The scooter obsession (and yes – it really is an obsession, as part and parcel of the intensity that I often think will cause him to burst into flames right before my eyes) started last year when he was three. We got them all scooters in the Spring. And while Oliver and Eleanor liked them well enough, George made it his mission to ride a scooter as well as the seven year olds streaking past our door on their way down the hill. And he actually did it. He was dedicated. He practiced and practiced and by the end of the month could speed down our hill and make the hairpin turn to continue to the end of the cul de sac. It was pretty impressive.
It was also annoying. While his obsessive streak helped him do something that we would never have thought possible, it also guaranteed a constant stream of requests, pleas, demands to “go play scootering.” But it appears that this is just the way George (literally) rolls. It’s in or out, all or nothing, do or die.
Of course it’s now freezing outside so we’re not using the scooters much anymore. So all addictive behaviors are now focused on indoor play. For a while it was painting, which while preferable to me, added even more paper to the already out of control pile of his “workings.” Then there were the Uno cards (which he calls “Oh No” cards) that he insisted on strewing all over the floors of every room. And most recently we’ve had had to contend with colored pencils that he drags everywhere. I finally convinced him to carry them in a bag after describing gruesome scenarios involving falling, tender flesh and sharp objects. But seriously – colored pencils? He’s so weird…
The only thing that will ever trump his predilection for hoarding random objects of interest is his new passion for games. And I don’t mean Candy Land (although he’s driven me nuts with other board games in the past). It started with Chris’ iPhone. My husband doesn’t always have much foresight when it comes to entertaining his children. Letting George play a game on his phone may have seemed like an easy way to stop the screaming, but it also unleashed a whole new brand of crazy. He would never have done such a thing if he thought he’d be spending entire weekends hiding from a mini-tyrant who won’t stop asking, “Daddy – can I play games on your phone? Daddy – can I play games on your phone? Daddy – can I play games on your phone? Daddy – can I…” George is relentless.
We own a Wii that I got for Chris as an anniversary gift a couple of years ago. But it quickly disappeared to a high shelf after George jammed it with pennies and it had to be sent out for repairs. It was then only taken down when the children were in bed for the night, and I don’t think I had ever even tried to turn it on. Recently though, the son of a friend has become rather obsessed (in a George kind of way) with Wii games. I decided to learn how to set it up so that I could provide entertainment for him when he was visiting. And of course, the other kids loved it and wanted to play too.
But no one ever loves anything as much as George loves things. And he LOVES the Wii. He doesn’t really know how to do everything all on his own, but for his age and minimal exposure to technology, he’s learning fast. There have been a few times that he’s navigated through menus I didn’t know existed. I did say that he was dedicated…
So George has a new addiction. And “Daddy – can I play games on your phone,” has been replaced by, “Can I play WEED? Let’s play WEED. I want to play WEED!” Yeah – no matter how many times I correct him, he insists on calling the Wii, “the Weed.” Which makes for many “just move along quickly and don’t make eye contact with anyone” moments when Eleanor selects public places to announce “George REALLY likes Weed.“
I expect that George will always be driving me crazy with something…but I do admire his enthusiasm and general stick-to-it-iveness. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. It makes me think that almost anything is possible if you really want it enough. If you’re willing to put your whole self into attaining a goal. If you have the confidence to really believe that you can make things happen. This is a quality that I should try to cultivate in myself.
So as much as I may want to lock him in his room or spank him or just sit on him to keep him from wreaking any further havoc on the world at large, I just can’t help but be a little dazzled by my incandescent blaze of a boy. He’s a handful – yes. And he may even be the death of me. But after all all of the empty threats, reasoning, yelling, excessive punishments, begging…I usually just end up grabbing him and covering his impish smile with as many kisses as he’ll endure. Because as bad as he can be – he really is DAMN cute.
He SURE is! I LOVE his attitude – as you know, I totally relate! Fabulously fun post to read Kate. I laughed out loud! I hope you write more whenever the mood strikes you!
I think I was a bit like George as a child. Super enthusiastic (verging on obsessive) over certain things and a fast learner. Unfortunately the enthusiasm does wane as we get older. I'm also seeing a little of what you've mentioned here in my younger son, Oliver, who has that all-or-nothing personality. They're definitely a handful, but so much fun as you said. Now if only I could figure out how to stop the screaming…
i love this post! you had me laughing so hard. those of us who have kids that age know all too well what you are referring to.
and yes. as much as we want to freak out, we have to love they're enthusiasm…and their giggles. (the devil spawn comment? said that one too…lol)
anyway. you crack me up :)
ps. now i am scared as hell for carter to open up the desired christmas present…a wii :(
Hee hee. The weed thing reminds me of when my older son was a little boy and had a video of heavy construction machinery that he insisted on calling "the dirty movie."
Did pocahontas have a raccoon?
OMG – I LOVE George! He is EXACTLY like my Sheridan … They are going to be great friends next year!
I bet he knows he's cute too, huh? That's my problem with Quinn. He's obnoxious as hell, but adorable and he knows it.
I think the two of them would get along.
All or nothing. I think sometimes they can be the toughest kids, but I have this belief that they're the kind of people that really carve out their path in the world and know who they are. I also think that knowing who you are is a hella good and goes a long way in just making it in our world. Of course, I don't really know what I'm talking about but I am holding on to this belief as though my life depends on it. My Annie, at the age of four, two, three, five was one of the most stubborn, independent kids I have ever come across. I have to say though she has mellowed some…she's 7 now…and is really turning into a fine little person. Alright, this comment is getting a little lengthy. It's my attempt at hope for you. :)
Great, great post!
Oh my goodness. I'm sick and my throat hurts. Oh the laughing made it worse, but it was so hilarious!!
Had a brother that couldn't pronounce his Ls. So his medicine tasted like "Women"! and Carlise is cracking us up when she proclaims she has a "beaver". Apparently she means fever, but I can't help but chuckle.
And Yes, THANK GOODNESS they are cute buggers. It certainly saves them over here. =]
He sounds JUST like my almost 3 three year old son, my baby boy, my youngest. He's more than a handful, my goodness. I love him to death, though. Even though he WILL be the death of me! He's active beyond control, he always wants his own way, he's very demanding, it's just… very insane! But… soooo cute. Sigh.
He is a cutie. Thanks for making me laugh, Kate. You really should publish a book! xo
I found you from Around the Island. I love your site. I’m going to poke around a little bit, but don’t worry I’ll put everything back where I found it!!
George and my guy should get together sometime.
I love this post.
I've been saying a lot lately that mine keeps getting in trouble for things that will be positives once she learns to control them, her stubborn streak, obsessiveness, silliness, independent nature, etc. I just have to remember that and count backwards from ten. They're damn lucky they're cute.