I fancy myself an observer. I like to think I have a constant eye on the world – gathering information, storing it, distilling it, finding the patterns. And I especially love to watch people. I find people to be the most baffling, interesting things in the world. And, frankly, the most baffling and interesting of all are the little people - kids. I love observing their views on life, their foibles and their triumphs.
I have made an unofficial pastime, like many parents I'm sure, of observing my own kids. Last night the adults in my house spent a lot of time discussing the life of my oldest. He is one of the most annoyingly brilliant people I've ever met, and probably one of the few people in my life that I just can't figure out. He is an enigma in many ways because his moods and attitudes are so mercurial.
Recently, I have noticed him struggling through a realization that can truly be earth shattering - a realization that even some adults have yet to grasp - the world does not revolve around him. Wait, what?
As an only child, I think that the first borns and the onlys of the world may struggle a little harder with this reality. There was so much of our lives that the family dynamic really did revolve around us. We were the only ones commanding attention, right?
But, really, beyond the generalities, I have noticed so many changes in Urban since he started his new school. For the past year, he was home either with me or a nanny. He really drove much of the action. He had a major say it what happened and when. And, with his behaviors, he could steer the day along any path he chose. Hard as we would try to redirect and stay the course, he was in charge. Do you know how hard that is to admit?
But what's equally hard is maintaining a calm, collected demeanor when faced with a screaming, grunting 4yo who you KNOW is openly defying your wishes - wishes that are mutually beneficial - like going to the park! He would (and does still at home) push and push and push until you fold and say, "fine we're not doing X, but now you are spending time in time out" or in your room or whatever. Nope, he's not doing anything fun, he's not "winning" like an adult would see it, but he is. He is not having to do whatever it was he didn't want to do, or worse, now he's doing it - but on his terms not yours. Now you're late. Or the whole neighborhood is outside looking at you because he was shrieking. Or whatever.
But now he's at school. Now it isn't on his terms at all. He's better behaved at this school than ever. He listens. He's focused. He tries really hard. He loves numbers, math and is even starting to enjoy writing and reading. He is making friends. (He has always made friends, but these friends are different.)
In his past schools, he was a leader in his class. If there was a yearbook for preschool, he would have been voted "most likely to start a cult". Whatever Urban did, everyone did. If Urban left the room, he announced his departure and return to a rapt audience. Everyone cared. His friends were active, imaginative and predominantly male.
Now, his friends are quiet, mostly girls, and sweet. I come to pick him up and see him, not running around shouting, "I'm SPIDERMAN and you're BATMAN!", but sitting to the side watching the other boys roughhouse and chase each other around. When he leaves the room, he still announces his departure, but no one really cares. There are a lot of looks of, "So?"
I watch him, and I wonder what this is doing to his sense of self. He understands so much. He processes so much. And he is blessed/cursed with equal parts of my personality and his father's. Where I (as referenced in a previous post) was weird and didn't care because I just didn't know any better, Brett was weird and cared. He knew that he was an outsider in his elementary years, and I didn't. Urban has the same trail-blazing, against the grain tendencies I do mixed with this very acute social awareness of his father. He is different, and he knows it. He and I have long discussions about social norms. He's trying to work it all out.
And I am sitting and watching him absorb the fact that his world is shifting, and he's not the center anymore. Not at school. And not at home. Because, now there's this pesky little thing called Beringer running around. And Beringer has his own ideas and his own personality and his own needs. And many times none of them align with Urban's. And many times the attention... the most valuable commodity in Urban's life is pulled away and directed toward someone else. And what is he to do?
We often describe Urban as 2 people. There is 2-year-old Urban – an overwhelmed little boy who doesn't know how to communicate his needs and falls into fits of screaming and crying and non-verbal grunting, running, hiding, pushing... Then there is 7-year-old Urban who is articulate, kind, helpful, imaginative and focused. We never see 4-year-old, age-appropriate Urban. And although you are talking to 7yo Urban now, in 2 seconds you could have a kicking, screaming 2yo Urban, and you don't know why. One minute you're talking about cakes and parties, the next you are trying to stop him from angrily ramming his head into the floor.
We have been in family therapy for a year. We have amazing tools. And so often the tools escalate the situation instead of diffusing it. You can have all the tools you want in your toolbox, but you can't force him to use them. And if you do... stand back.
So what do we do? What do we do...
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