Not one of the eleven kids has the same, or even slightly the same, personality. Granted, they look a lot alike. Okay, some of them look alike. But, they are each different! I'm telling you....they really and truly are different. Looking back in time, I can see it now so much more clearly than when there was one big pile of kids fisting and cuffing each other in order to survive.. Whoever tries to tell you that if you raise your kids to say their prayers at night, have good table manners, and say please and thank you it will stick with them is nuts! I'm telling you with all of my being...each of my kids was born to be "his own person", and all the amount of trying to change that was not ever going to work.
For instance....can I start with Mike? Mike was the second born, and the first boy. He was an average 8 and 1/2 pound baby at birth, and he had all of his fingers and toes. But, that's the only part that was average about him. That boy was a child genius who had the ability to make his mother crack before he turned two.
One of the very first memories I have of knowing for certain that Mike was going to be a difficult child is of him with his Fisher Price lawn mower at a park in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. Mike was a cute little kid of 18 months....dark hair, dark eyes, built big and sturdy, and he had a funny little lisp when he talked. He also had the willpower and unthwarted determination of a bulldozer trying to push Mt. Everest into the ocean single handed.
It was a family reunion and Mike became the entertainment that day. He began "mowing" the park with his push toy, but in the course of his mowing a tree got in the way. Most kids would either bump into the tree, fall down, cry for a few seconds, and then go around the tree. Not Mike! No way! He took that plastic mower and began ramming it into the tree -- slowly at first, and then he built up speed. He'd back up, and push! Back up and shove! Back up and slam! At first we were all lightly entertained until we realized that this was not just kid's play. This was serious business for Mike! His face got so red that I thought he would burst a blood vessel. That kid had willpower! Stamina! Determination! FIGHT! There was nothing going to stand in his way, especially not this tree!
I remember my father-in-law being totally amazed as he watched Mike continue to push and shove that mower into the tree. He said, and I quote, "I've never seen anything like this in all of my life! That boy isn't stopping until he moves that tree!"
After what seemed like an hour, Mike got so angry because he couldn't push down the tree that he picked up the mower and banged it into the tree so hard that it cracked! The mower -- not the tree. Only then did Mike slow down. He stooped down, looked over the mower, and then looked at all of us watching him with gaped mouths.
Did he cry over his broken toy? Are you kidding me? He turned to the side, spotted the crystal blue lake, and off he went to seek out another bigger, better adventure!
As for me.....I don't know how I felt. A little proud maybe. Who knows? Maybe one day my son would be a lumberjack! And, a doggoned good one at that! Little did I know what all this lumberjack kid would do when he discovered hatchets and hand saws and drills. My days of mommyhood innocence would soon be coming to a screeching halt. And, to this day, when I walk in the woods behind the house, I still find traces of Mike's handiwork left behind!
I think I'm gonna get some Tylenol. All of these funny remembrances are beginning to give me a slight headache!
Love,
Crazy Granny
No comments:
Post a Comment