Stubborns

Declan has a teensy stubborn streak. I use "teensy" loosely; I really mean "astronomical" or perhaps "ginormous". I adore that kid perhaps in spite of, perhaps because of, the fact that he is the incarnation of every mother's I-hope-you-have-a-kid-just-like-you-someday curse that can only come about in the frustrating moments where not one damn thing they've said has gotten through our thick skulls.

This is my Dex.

He looks like me, only more boy. His eyelashes make women envious, and his eyes themselves – they're this gorgeous dark hazel mixture of colors. He has a cleft in his chin that makes my heart melt, and a smile that has brightened up some of my darkest days.

Beyond the looks, he harbors quite the personality. He's generally a pleasure to have around. His laugh is contagious, and he has this wide-eyed look on his face that makes it seem like he is just thrilled to be alive and in your presence. Declan is excited about life, and he somehow manages to push this on to me, and I think the rest of our household.

And then there's the flip side. He has what I call a light-switch personality. He will flip on you in a second. Don't get comfortable in his laughter and cuddles because before you know it, he'll turn right around and be the grumpiest grumpass you ever saw. And don't fret when he's in the depths of those grumps because if you find the right button, he'll instantly light up and forget about whatever it was that had him down.

Sometimes I feel like I'm looking at a picture of myself when I see him. I know I've seen photographs of me around his age, with the same defiantly crossed arms and through-the-eyelashes scowl that he gives when he's just not getting his way. He'll push that bottom lip out farther than you think it can go. Amy's started telling him that if he pouts, a bird will poop on his lip. This doesn't give him any reason to pull the lip back in, he'll just cover it up with his hand and continue to pout the Declan pout, communicating his immense displeasure with the moment (see below).



This curmudgeon-like phase has little verbal exchange beyond punctuated "No!" and "I don't want to!" grumblings. However, it is jam-packed with grunts and angry fists that punch at his side or leg to drive home the point that he is not pleased.

I adore him, and I've learned a big lesson when it comes to dealing with him: don't push, don't pull, just tell him where you want him to go and wait. I remember being a kid and feeling the stubborn inside me. I remember sometimes wanting the choice, rather than being told what to choose. There have been many times recently that I've told him something like, "I want you to make good choices, and it would be a good choice to do xyz" and then turned back to whatever it is I was doing. Very quickly, I've found him happily off doing whatever it was that I was attempting to coerce him into only moments before.

He most assuredly wants to make us all happy, he just wants everything to be his idea. And I'm ok with that, because I want him to be happy, too.