My son is tough, energetic, funny, and makes his presence known at all times.
I’m not sure whether to chalk up his uber-spirited behavior as of late to the fact that he is a three-year-old (which by many accounts is much more challenging than the so-called “terrible twos”), his innate energy/personality, or the tragic situation he has been thrown into. Surely it is a combination of all three. It is stretching my patience to the limits and beyond.
Lately, he has been extremely stubborn, argumentative, prone to pitching fits over just about everything, and is more fearful and emotional than I’ve ever seen him. And he is supremely loyal to me and Marley.
Man, this kid is a trip. And a major challenge.
Here are some of Avery’s recent thoughts, which amazingly enough go beyond the many ideas he has about things to do with people’s eyeballs. Really.
“I wish daddy were here to open his own presents.” (After receiving a post-holiday box of gifts from my father and his wife).
“I’m scared–only me and you and Marley is here and not daddy and I feel lonely.”
“I hate it without daddy.”
It’s taken him this long to start expressing this stuff, and I’m glad he’s finally doing so.
However, last night things got a bit more disturbing.
Avery has always hated roaches. Since he was a baby, seeing a roach has sent him shrieking until his face turns beet red. We haven’t seen a roach in this house in months. But last night Avery asked me if roaches made noises.
I answered, innocently enough, that they may make kind of scratching noises as they walk across the floor. He then asked if roaches live in brick houses. I told him that they can probably get into any house they care to enter.
Five minutes later, a blood curdling scream came out of his mouth and he started crying, his face bright red. “A roach, a roach, a roach!” I looked where he was pointing—no roach. That didn’t comfort Avery, so I picked him up and his entire body was completely tense. He kept screaming and crying, begging me to bring him to Veronica’s house (our neighbor’s daughter). I had to take him into the living room and it took a while for him to calm down.
Finally, I convinced him to come back in the kitchen. I had to bribe him with ice cream. And he’d only come in there if he could sit on the countertop as I scooped out the ice cream, which had chunks of cinnamon in it. After about a minute, Avery started screaming his roach scream again as he looked at the chunks of cinnamon in the ice cream. He thought they were roaches. He screamed for about a minute. His body tensed up again. It was far beyond any reaction to roaches he has had in the past.
After that, I had to hold his hand as he went to the bathroom and answer about a million questions about roaches. When the cat jumped onto the bed, he screamed his roach scream again.
I’m not quite sure how to deal with this. The fear also seems to be surfacing in Marley, who is more afraid of monsters than roaches.