the middle kid

I could write and speak endlessly about my middle son, he was by far the most difficult one as an infant and isn't exactly easy these days either.  But I am not going to do that. (today)

Instead, I will write about how he was such a loving toddler, he loved to snuggle with me, to lay with me and give me kisses.  That even now, when daddy has a night at the fire dept, he will ask if he can sleep with me.  That at 5.5, really, almost 6, he gives me so many kisses at bedtime that he leaves my cheek wet and still asks for more.  That he still picks flowers from the yard, from the neighbors yard, or even sneaks one from Lowes and gives them to me with a big smile.  He will ask for paper to color instead of his coloring books, and draw me a picture with flowers to hang up... he could care less about drawing flowers, he'd rather draw cars and such.  But he says "flowers make you happy mommy!" and that's what he draws.  On the weekends when we don't have to rush off to school, he will happily lay on me and watch cartoons and be annoyed when I ask him to get up so I can refill my coffee.  That his sole complaint about kindergarten is that it's "such a big day" and he misses me.  He keeps telling me he needs a "smaller day" because being away from me for such a "big day" makes him sad.

He and I butt heads quite often, and I am realizing more and more that I am a big part of the problem.  Instead of laughing at his "twert-ness" I find myself frustrated with his antics.  I am expecting him to behave like "other kids" or even his older brother, and that's not fair.  It's not fair to him, as he is not like other kids, he's his own self. 

While I am not sure that I will ever be that mom who embraces random screaming or flooded bathrooms or hysterical laughter at inappropriate times, I need to love him more.  Somebody recently pointed out to me that when his younger brother was born, he was not quite 2.  I came home from the hospital with a newborn 7 days before his 2nd birthday, and I can still remember sitting on the couch watching him walk toward me... I missed him desperately while I was in the hospital!  But in any case, what was said to me was this... that at 2 years old, he just wasn't ready to share me yet.  He wasn't ready to stop being the baby.  If you've had a newborn, regardless of how they got to be a part of your family, you know how utterly time consuming they are, and your field of vision starts to tunnel to just the baby.  And for a barely 2 year old who was for sure a "mommy's boy" it was really just too much.

So here we are, he's started kindergarten, and we're navigating this new world with him, as he learns more independence, and how to read, and all the other fun stuffs that will happen this year.  And I'm going to make a better effort to love him more thru it all, to set aside time for just he and I, to give back all those sloppy kisses, and wait a bit longer before refilling my coffee so he doesn't have to get up.  I look forward to curling up on the couch with him, helping him learn to read and hearing his stories about what happened during his "big day" at school. 

I look forward to loving him how I should have been all along, and with any luck, he will still let me. 

Is this the wrong?

Our youngest has yet to master getting his clothes on correctly, as well as his shoes.  Every morning he runs naked into our room, holding his tiny underwear up to me, usually sideways or backwards and asks, "mommy is this the wrong?"  And every day I respond "tag in the back, son.  Tag in the back."  Sometimes at this point he will resume getting dressed, but more often lately he will repeat himself, asking again, "but is this the wrong?"

Same deal with shoes... we're still in flip flop season here, and you'd think he could feel "the wrong" having them on the wrong feet, but either he doesn't, or he doesn't care.  So many days I send them all to go pee and get shoes on so we can go out, and we go thru a round of "is this the wrong?" before we leave.  Then we get into the car, and for reasons unknown, he will remove his shoes, resulting in yet another "is this the wrong" before getting out of the car.

I have, and my other half as well, shown him the tags or the labels or whatever in clothing, and we chant "tag in the back" daily.  It seems to work about 60% of the time.

I am not sure if I should just find this endearing due to the fact that he's 3.5 and perhaps too young to be getting dressed independently, or if I should resume my thoughts of banging my head into the wall after hearing that question at least 15 times a day.