Thoughts on a Tuesday morning

I'm in the mood to write this morning, although I don't know exactly about what. I could write about how much I am enjoying my morning coffee with my holiday-inspired flavor of nondairy creamer (I had a coupon from the Super Target), or I could write about how much I love using coupons at the Super Target. I could write about how much I dislike having to start studying for the bar, or how annoyed I am that in reprogramming our thermostat I somehow messed it up and ended up setting to 60 degrees last night when it was a mere 12 degrees outside. Hmmm. Instead I think I will write about how much I love my children.

Noah is a beautiful, wonderful, sweet boy. Usually. The other day he was sitting on my lap in church, nuzzling my neck. I started hearing him sniff around, and I remembered I sprayed a little perfume that morning, which I don't often do. I was waiting for something sweet, like "Mommy, you smell like flowers." Instead, in not-at-all a whisper, he said, "Mom, you don't smell very good at all. You need to go home and take a shower." I tried to explain that he was smelling my perfume, which was supposed to make me smell good. "Well, it doesn't smell very good to me. Yuck." It's hard not to laugh at the utterly pure, uncensored comments of a toddler. But on the sweeter side, in the last several months, there will be times when he'll be playing contently, or watching TV or eating a snack, and this look will come across his face -- a look that says, "all is right with the world." It's a look that reveals that he feels calm and at peace. And in many of those moments, he will look at me and smile, then run over to bury his head in my hip or lap, and say, "Mommy, I love you so much." Then he'll wander off to resume whatever he was doing. My mom told me the other day that she is trying to impart on her students that the most important goal of a health-care provider is to make her patients feel safe. Well, seems to me that's the exact thing we should be aiming for as parents, too. If our kids feel safe and secure, then everything else stems from that. This demeanor of Noah's, and his proclamations of love, tell me he feels secure. So now matter how excessive his TV watching, or how meager his consumption of green vegetables, or how few the moments we may spend working on phonics together, I know I'm doing alright as a mom because my kid feels safe.

Luke makes me question that. Luke is going to kill Matt and me one day -- if not literally, I can guarantee he's going at the very least beat up into submission. These are conversations we are envisioning in our future:

Friend: "Matt and Mary, where is your car?"
Us: "Luke has it."
Friend: "But Luke is only 14."
Us: "We know, but he told us he was going to take it, and he did."

Or

Noah: "Dad, it's 3 a.m. and Luke isn't in his bed."
Matt: "I know."
Noah: "Where is he?"
Matt: "He said he was going out."
Noah: "But Dad, he's only 9."
Matt: "I know, but he said he was leaving and you know your brother."

Or

Friend: "Mary, why are you letting Luke repeatedly hit you in the head with his fist?"
Me: "Because he thinks it's funny. I used to try to stop him or discipline him in some way, but in doing so, I was only increasing his enjoyment. So letting him do it makes it end sooner."

So that's Luke. We have come to understand that the Path of Least Resistance is simply the best, and many times only, path to take with Luke. He will throw us a bone every once in a while though. He's a fantastic cuddler, and to this day, he'll rest his head on your shoulder and doze off in a way that Noah never would. And he's incredible with his manners -- he rarely needs prompting to say please or thank you. He'll look up at us with those gigantic blue eyes and say, "Peas mommy?" and I'll crumble. (Part of that is because we're just so darn happy he's finally talking.) And all of this embodies the fact that the kid is just to smart for us. He's demonstrated his problem-solving skills since he was a tiny infant, and he learned quickly that a good dose of charm will allow him to manipulate almost any situation. I've started praying every day for the strength and wisdom to mother Luke in a way that won't turn him into a psychopath, and we hope with all our might that Luke is simply being "terribly two," and that he will grow out of this. Until then, God help us all.