How am I supposed to know?

A few weeks ago, Jude was up almost every hour during a night screaming.  I'd go in, try to comfort him, ask him what was wrong.  He doesn't have a ton of words, but generally he can get his point across.  When I'd ask what was wrong, each time there was a different answer: TOES HURT!! Tummy owie!! EAR!  (the toes thing is a Jude specialty usually indicating some general discomfort)  At some point I gave him a little tylenol, and weathered the storm, but getting more and more tired, frustrated, and angry with each awakening.  At one point I'm sure I even yelled at him, "what is wrong with you?!?!"

The next morning after fighting over breakfast, getting Milo to school, Mike came home, and I had to leave for a meeting.  I told him about the night, suggested that if he didn't get any better that we get him in to see our family doc and check his ears.  Sure enough, he had blown out his ear drum, and we started antibiotics.

This week on a walk, Jude started out happy and chatty, riding happily in the stroller.  As the walk went along, he started whining a little bit.  I asked him what was wrong, he whined some more, said his shoes were owie.  Okay Jude, I'll loosen them.  Still whining, not crying like in pain, just whining.  What's wrong?  More whining.  I turned on some music on my phone trying to distract him and me.  More whining, louder and more insistent as I tried to ignore him.  What's wrong Jude?  More whining.  I finally took his shoes off and threw them in the basket under the stroller.  He erupted, thrashing and screaming.  I got down on his level and tried to reason with him: if your shoes are owie, you can ride without them, we'll check them out when we get home.  No reasoning with him, screaming, hitting, kicking.

As I walked the last 10 minutes of our walk thru the neighborhoods, I thankfully only passed one person who gave me a condescending look like, "what is wrong with you? your poor child needs something from you and you are neglecting him"  We finally got home, Jude still screaming.  I put him on the deck, put away the stroller, and walked into the house.  I held the door for the wailing minion, and he followed me in, still screaming.  I made sure there wasn't anything scary out, filled his water bottle and left it within his reach, and I went and took a shower.  He calmed down while I was in the shower and finally stopped.  Mike came home shortly, and Jude was all cute and smiles.  Rascal.

How am I supposed to know when there's something I can do/should do, and when he's simply being irrational.  There's no indicator lights or concrete warning signs.  And now that time-outs are being yanked from my parenting tool belt, I'm left with a feeling of powerlessness and parental guilt.  Yippee.

Brotherly manipulation...

Both my boys are smart, and this isn't just a proud momma talking, but Milo's starting to understand the strength of his knowledge.  He recognizes what Jude likes and prefers and is completely using that for his own benefit.

Case in point:  Milo's favorite show right now is Octonauts on Disney, a cute show that teaches about marine animals and features a crew including a dog, cat, penguin, and others, lead by Captain Barnacles, a polar bear, thus the appeal.  Jude's favorite things include kitties, candy, cars, etc.  In the morning, especially if I'm moving a little slow or need a little time to myself, I do turn on the baby crack, ur I mean the TV.  I usually try to let them discuss and agree upon what to watch.  Milo asked, "Jude, want to watch the kitty?" "Yeah! Sure!" says Jude.  "Okay, Mommy, Jude wants to watch Octonauts!"

Hmmmm….

Quirky tales of the Dude...

Some hilarious moments in the life of Jude this summer.  Tale one opens on Fayetteville Street in Downtown Raleigh on the 4th of July.  The city does an amazing festival with live music, fair food, performers, craft tents, bouncies, train ride, and lots and lots of red, white, and blue.

While meandering the fair a little earlier in the day with Nana and Booka, we happened upon an orchestra playing on the lawn of the capital, stayed and listened for a bit, then headed back up the street to meet up with Daddy and Milo.  Just off the lawn was one of those performers painted and dressed like a statue, standing next to a placard in the lawn, and he was working it.

He had a suitcase in front of him with a sign that said something to the affect of, put a dollar in and maybe he'll move, maybe he won't.  We gave Jude a dollar and sent him to put it in the suitcase.  He walked right up, placed the offering, and walked away.  When nothing happened, he walked back toward his dollar, the man moved, and the poor kid jumped out of his skin, screaming louder and higher than I've ever hear him!  He leapt into my arms, hugging me tight, peaking around my neck, eying his nemesis.  The statue-man may have been just as startled, and he appeared to feel badly.  He reached behind him and pulled an over-sized $100,000 bill and handed it to Jude.  Without releasing me, Jude eyed the man, and reached for the treasure.

Needless to say, Nana, Booka, and I laughed and giggled and cuddled my poor, traumatized child until we met up with Mike and relayed the adventure.  Milo instantly swiped Jude's "money," and Jude stayed in my arms for a good long while.

Tale 2 happened while we were at the beach with the Rohls, staying in a hotel suite larger than any of the apartments I've lived in.  Our family shared a room with 2 beds, Jude was in a little nest we built on the floor at the end of Milo's bed, big brother was in one bed, and Mike and I in the other.  At one point, I'm fairly certain that Milo fell out of his bed and onto his head.  He started this half-awake crying/moaning thing.  I pushed Mike out of bed to go soothe his son.

Mike did his best, even snuggling in bed with the mostly incoherent Milo.  Milo just kept crying out for me, and though we were pretty sure that he was mostly asleep, we placated and placed him in our bed, between me and the wall.

At this point, Mike was taking over Milo's bed, and tossing Milo his various sleeping buddies.  He said something like, here come the blankies, at which point Jude wordlessly popped up from his nest on the floor, ran around the side of the bed, snapped up Milo's beloved duckie blanket, ran back to his nest, snuggled in, and we didn't hear a peep out of him until the morning.  Mike and I tried to contain our laughter as the boys slept on!

Theological discussions with a 4-year-old...

While driving in the car today, this is the conversation that occurred between Milo and me while Jude was taking a little baby-reboot.  I'll try and relay it as verbatim as possible:

Milo: Is Jesus in everyone's tummy?
Me: No, you have to ask Jesus into your heart.
Milo: Is God in my tummy?
Me: Have you asked Him to come into your heart?
Milo: Yes.
Me: Then yes, He's in your heart.
Milo: Why do you have to ask Him?
Me: Because He doesn't want to tell you what to do.  He wants you decide if you want Him to come into your heart.
Milo: Will He always be in my heart?
Me: Yup.  He'll never leave you.  Once you ask Him to be with you, He'll always be there.  Like at night when you have scary dreams, and we talk about how you can ask Jesus to be with you and calm your heart so you're not scared.  God wants to talk to you all the time, about whatever you want.  You can talk to God about when you're mad or excited, happy about something or scared.  Yesterday I told Jesus how thankful I was that He gave me two sweet boys who are such great brothers.
Milo: How is God in my heart?
Me: {I'm imaging his brain working out the idea of a tiny man running around in the 4-chambers of his beating heart} God is not always a guy.  Jesus was a man when He came to earth, but now He's just God.  It's kinda tricky to explain, buddy…  God's more like a spirit.  God's kinda like the wind, you can feel Him, but you can't always see Him.  Like when I blow on you, you can feel my breath, but you can't see it, right?
Milo: Yeah…
Me: So God's kinda like that.  You can feel Him, but you can't see Him like a regular person.  I know this is tricky, it's still really tricky for me, that's why I go to church so I can try and figure this stuff out too.  Does that kinda make sense?
Milo: I think so.

{Maybe not, but I'm praying I'm not totally messing with him and Jesus.}