Small things

2:21 PM -- Mike here

All is quiet in the other room, except for an occasional "quiet!" command coming from the floor where Linda is lying, and a chorus of "somewhere over the rainbow" interrupted by her coughs. Naptime may just not be happenin' today, as we have to leave at 3:30 to meet up with the Louca family at the Ferris wheel today.

Bacha and Tucker seem to have a pretty competitive relationship these days, for the most part. Oh sure, Tucker spontaneously says "I love Bacha," and has been seen to protect her from everyone including Linda and me, but overall they both spend a lot of energy keeping an eye on the other to make sure that they get their fair share of whatever the other is getting. And God forbid somebody tries to take something of the other's -- however a 3-year-old defines ownership, that is. I can now officially add "referee" to my list of qualifications.

Today, Tucker had a long time-out when he broke the "never hurt Mama" rule. Something she said upset him, and he purposely scratched her. I came to Linda's rescue on my shining white horse and sat Tucker down in the time-our chair, giving him one simple key to regain his freedom -- to answer the question: "what's the rule about hitting Mama?"

His answer was "no" for what must have gone on for 30 minutes, as I patiently and quietly sat in the chair across from him and read "Life of Pi." I happened to be reading a passage where the main character's father was teaching him a difficult lesson, so it gave me strength. Besides, we happened to have lots of time, and I was enjoying my book. After a while, I made it easier and easier for him -- telling him what the rule was, for instance (the rule is "don't hurt Mama"), and asking him what it was. I wanted to hear him say it. It finally got to the point where he clearly got the message, but just wouldn't knuckle under and say the words to me. So I let him get up on the condition that he apologized to Linda and told HER the rule. That worked.

Then we went shopping, and the first thing Tucker said to me as we left the building was "Papa, I love you."

Anyway, I fear that having what are essentially twins is going to be a long power struggle between them -- not to mention us. Balancing their individuality and their identity as a pair is going to be interesting. They each need things of their own, and they're just necessarily going to have to learn to share. They're going to have to learn when to "work it out" on their own -- without killing each other -- and when to ask for mediation/arbitration (without being a tattle-tale). If it comes to a knock-down, drag-out fight between them, I'm not sure who'd come out the winner, or at what cost to the loser. Tucker is sweeter, but as brutal as any 4-year-old can be (he turns 4 on the 28th). Bacha is tough and headstrong, but just plain smaller. One of these days there will be a no-holds-barred fight before we get a chance to jump in, and Linda and I will be left to pick up the pieces.

They had a verbal argument at the dinner table today about who-knows-what. Bacha shouted a stream of gibberish at Tucker, and he shouted his version of the same gibberish back at her. This went on for a while, 'till it ended up with a classic ping-pong of "nyet! no! nyet! no!...", finally being resolved by Bacha's emphatic "DA!" as she resumed eating. I guess she told him! Linda and I just watched.

We had planned to go to a children's performance today, but apparently the actors left. <shrug> Happens, I guess.

I crave small, mundane, "normal" things... A large tumbler with half a dozen large ice cube, full to the top with 24 ounces of diet Pepsi... Light switches that are largely out of the reach of a 3-year-old, and INSIDE the bathroom (!)... A peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made the way I like it... NPR... Crickets...

For father's day tomorrow, we're going to meet friends at a nearby "childrens' restaurant." They have such things here, and I'm interested to see what it means.