the birthday demon

When Evan was three, Evan was not just three. He was Three. THREE. THREE!!! WAAAGGGGHHH! THREE! THREE, DAMMIT!!!

It was a switch, switched.

For a year or so, we wrestled with our mouths. Every hour was measured in days. At the end of it we'd lie there and we'd sigh and then sigh again and then unbutton our pants in the most unsexy possible way, in the way you do when the skin of all your soul hurts so much that you're sure the unfair pressure of a button fly will explode your brain.

Nobody wants to clean up brains. There's no palmolive that can cut that grease.

Then, Evan became Four. We were not festooned in daisy chains and rainbows. We did not pedal vintage bicycles through a rainfall of Newcastle Brown Ale. But it got easier. The mouth-wrestling eased. He became reasonable-ish. We skipped into a grocery store holding hands and I was like Hey. He's back.

Ben's birthday is May 5th. But two days ago, Ben turned THREE. THREE!!! WAAAGGGGHHH! THREE! THREE, DAMMIT!!!

See how he looks into the distance at the strange gas cloud on his horizon, a mass with a ticket booth and a Vegas bulb display that reads WELCOME TO THE THREE OF YOU AND THE DOOM OF YOUR PARENTS. What's that? he chirps, ever curious. That looks weirdly empowering. I think I'll go over that way.

Here's the next photo we managed to get. Justin (in yellow) was encouraging Ben (in green) to sit down in his chair and eat his supper. He had it all in hand.

Two days ago he turned and two days of maternal barking followed. I am hoarse. I've never yelled at Ben before. He's never reached that threshold. That incomprehensible whining that, given enough hours, is just like this.

Every time I look at Ben I say I'm sorry without speaking. Every single time. I'm sorry I just sat there. I'm sorry I was so afraid. I'm sorry I couldn't look at you. I'm sorry you were too small to have a voice. There is regret and sadness and it is that superfine dust that, in the face of attempts to clean, stirs itself into a cloud before settling back down to cover everything once again.

Pairing that with exasperation, my head cracks in two. I yell at him and he looks at me and his eyeballs swell to five times their normal size and the eyeballs say this

My brother died. I almost died. I had no heartbeat and you're yelling at me.

And then he picks up the flaming bowling pins again and resumes the incomprehensible whining while I go to a corner to hold my head in my hands.

Liam is gone, just gone. The places that used to be inhabited are abandoned. They're empty warehouses.

I don't know what to say anymore. I am lucky. I am cursed. I am not normal.

So I say nothing.

+++

Ben had collapsed. I kissed him, tucked him in. Please sleep. You need it. I need it.

In the dark, Evan and I whisper-chatted about bionicles and Being Kind and chinese noodles and Why Bethany Is Allowed To Have A Nintendo PSP All Day Long And You Are Not, Which Is Pretty Much Because Bethany's Mommy Doesn't Mind If Bethany's Brain Turns Into Cottage Cheese. Then I apologized.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Ben woke up at one in the morning last night and stayed up for two hours. I spent the whole day scrubbing the house and he spent the whole day leaving puddles. He won't keep his clothes on. And he won't play with toys. He only wants to smash stuff and draw on the walls with ballpoint pen and hide my memory card and dig in the knife drawer and rip up unpaid bills and client cheques and squeeze out all the toothpaste and he almost broke the kitchen table, did you see that? And he farted on my pillow and now my bed smells like farts. I'm tired. He was tired. We were cranky. I'm sorry. You were so good. You just played with your lego."

"It's okay, mommy," he cupped my face in his hands. "I decided to not listen to your madness."

Smart kid.

Comments

[Amy]

Oh, Kate. I know.

[Audrey]

Wow and nodding and lighter after this post and a bit sad, too, but that's not your doing. On the Nintendo front (war? it might be the whole stinking war...), we were in a diner earlier this year with lots of family and were sitting next to another big family table. My son pointed to a child at that other table and evidencing my sub-par parenting chops, said something to the extent of, "HEEEEEEEEEEEEE gets to play with a Nintendo DS!" My equally mature, loudly spat response was "He's not interacting with his family and you are!" If looks could shoot 'em up, I would have gotten a high score.

[misty]

I love your honesty. I love your posts.

[mosey]

I've never understood when people talk about the Terrible Two's. Every child I know, including my own, was a never ending delight until somewhere around their 3rd birthday when all hell broke loose.

I hear you (oh, so well) about your own reaction to the madness. I feel like sometimes I am the 3 year old and my daughter, like Ben, is the grownup. After a day of good-mommy following about three of BADmommy, she hugged me at bedtime and said "You were good to me today."

* heart breaks all over the place *

[elizabeth]

I have two boys who went through what we liked to call The Fucking Threes.

[mel]

"I decided to not listen to your madness."

I need to hear that from people big and small in my life. What a smart and wise kid you've got there.

[whoorl]

We only have three more months of THREE. THREE!!! WAAAGGGGHHH! THREE! THREE, DAMMIT!!!

(I am really looking forward to four.)

[tanya]

First I cried and then I laughed because your pillow smells like farts. Love you, Kate.

[MakeDo]

Wait, it gets WORSE than 28 months? Oh no, no! (maybe my kid is an emotional genius and ahead of the curve...ha ha sob)

[Jen/LA]

I am with MakeDo, tell me it ain't so Kate!!!!!!!! Mine is two...TWO...TT WW OO!!!!!! He is driving me nuts and he looks so cute in the process while I feel like the melting witch from Oz. My first hit three and, same thing as yours, but I can't face or comprehend the idea that anything could be worse than this 2!

I remember a post a very long time ago about Evan and his "three" and we were five and I think I privately gloated that we weren't three anymore. Obviously I must have...

thanks for this, I needed it and NO guilt for the yelling, think of what you really feel like doing and praise yourself for your saintly restraint!

[Christine Sweet]

I know girl.

Wait. No I don't. I only know part of it. I only know the two's and three's and the spontaneous yelling that isn't remotely merited. I know the I'm sorry's and the guilt. I know. Here's where my heart both hurts and recognizes that I may never understand this: That after you yelled, what made you feel the worst is that his brother died and he almost died and he had no heartbeat. And yeah that changed you. Forever. But it didn't metamorphose you into patient perfection... or other forms of perfection for that matter. You already know this. I just always hate to see undue guilt. You don't need that extra layer of burden.

The other morning, when I should've been up already my near 4 year old (her Birthday is May 2, super close!) was begging and pleading for me to get out of bed and I forged ahead in a state of grumpy impatience. I snapped, yelled, reproved. Then when I finally woke up, I turned over to see her smiling face and she said, "Mommy, don't you have something to say to me?" Yes baby. I'm sorry that I yelled at you in anger. Will you forgive me? She so easily forgave.

Yours will too.

Love and hugs to you Kate.

[thordora]

I just want an explanation for the no pants thing myself. I can't figure it out. Maybe Ben and Ros can run off and be the nekid pirates and mug people for their pants and cigars.

This read like an exhaled breath, and was sweet and heavy with love. It was beautiful.

Let loose your madness dear Kate. Sorry I was so dense on twitter. I should have realized the time of a year.

[Hannah]

So, Isaac at two was fine. Isaac at three was fine. Isaac at four was OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT THE HELL KID JESUS AAARRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!

And now that he's just about to turn five and seems to be settling down, James is two and the whining and the "no wanna [insert something awesome here]" has just about made my head explode on several dozen non-consecutive occasions.

He is still keeping on his pants, though. :)

[Emily]

My little Joshua is the result of years of wishing and a lucky run of in-vitro. And then. And then, and then...I spent two years being woken up by this, my biggest wish come true, at least every two hours. It wasn't until the sleep-dep torture had finally stopped - and a mighty HALLELUJAH with a voodoo hip jiggle to boot for that amazing occurance (thankyouGodthankyouGodthankyouthankyouthankyou) - that I stopped feeling guilty for my middle-of-the-night ANGER, that was so big and congealed, I could have cut it into slices and subsisted on it for months. Fuck that. I could have nourished a family of *four* on my special brand of hopelessness.

In the aftermath, I realized that what had happened was my normal reaction to my actually real, non-perfect child. That he was just a baby who almost made me insane with lack of sleep, just like the baby of the couple down the street, who did the same. The difference was only our varying preables. The difference was my need to be 100% happy/squeekywell-adjusted for my living, breathing fulfillment to prayer, named Joshua. But Joshua can't help my preamble. He's just a kid. He needs me to react to him in a normal way, since, as far as I can tell, 100% happy/squeeky/well-adjusted is both a baldfaced lie and also not healthy for anyone involved.

Short answer: Oh yeah. I hear this one loud and clear.

Also: Evan is the bomb. That kid says things that I want to tape on my refrigerator.

[Emily]

p.s. @ makedo and Jen/LA... my kid was a temper-tantrum throwing rat bastard at two, and so far, his third year has been a peach with vanilla cream. I don't think it is always three that is the O.M.G. FUGGINSITINYOURCHAIRANDSTOPDESTROYINGMYMUZZAHFRACKINGWALLS, KID -age. The only thing you can be fairly sure of is that almost all kids will *have* those seasons in their development.
p.p.s. the only reason I can manage to sound so honey-farting sanguine is that my kid is not, at present, actually *in* one of those stages. That'll pass, I'm sure. Wish me luck!

[Maria]

We're just turning the corner from three to four and it isn't getting any better. But the moments between the brain-gnawing UGH times are more entertaining and thoughtful. There's certainly that.

This is beautiful, as always.

I love your madness.

[sweetsalty kate]

Emily, you put that in the most incredible words, I slowed

way

down

to read it. Thank you, and to everyone. Sanity. xo

[schmutzie]

That gave me my first good laugh of the day :)

[agirlandaboy]

Just as having a reason doesn't necessarily equal having an excuse, having a son who died--and one who almost died but is here, wonderfully here--doesn't mean you were magically endowed with the powers of an ever-loving, ever-patient saint/mother, nor does it suggest you should have been. In some ways, then, might it be good for everyone that you are mothering the way you mother naturally (even if that means with curse words and exasperated sighs and "I'm sorry"s) because it means you are not simply mothering Ben *because* of his fragile beginnings but *in spite of" them? Does that make sense? Short version: you are being the mother you are, the mother you know how to be, and that is more than enough.

[Angella]

I'll listen to your madness any day, friend. Because it is beautifully honest.

[afteriris]

I have a THREE. THREE!!! WAAAGGGGHHH! THREE! year old, and I can tell you that Newcastle Brown Ale will feature heavily in my coping strategy until she turns 4 this September.

[MDTaz]

It's madness that somehow, somewhere, somebody thinks (oops, us?) that we're just supposed to do it all, be it all, take it all with a smile.

And today an email from my friend who was traumatized by some innocently-intentioned craziness from her 28-year old son and I though, oh shit, this never ends, does it?

But this bubbles to the surfac:, something to do with guilt, guilt carried for something that is not necessarily tethered to us but we grab on anyway. I'm thinking we should let it go.

[TwoBusy]

The dread and terror and heartbreak of then were real, will always be real. But they will not always be now — and if the now is defined by creature discomforts and rambling periods of extended dance remix madness punctuated by brief moments of clarity (Evan's comment just blew. me. away.)... well, I don't know that there's much to do other than put your head down and push forward, take the blows as they come, and know that in time this now will become a then, and you'll look back on it and say, "Ben, it's a wonder we didn't feel you to the wolves."

[Johanna]

Great post, Kate. But, I am on the other side of parenting (13 year old and 18 year old) and have learned that there is another switch at about age 13 and it isn't pretty. I would give ANYTHING to go back to the age of three, even for a day. My teens are crankier than ever, and way less cute than they were at three. Plus, the problems that arise are no longer solved with a time-out. The madness never ends, it just evolves into something else. Your boys are absolutely beautiful, btw. Want to trade kids for a day or two. We can do a little social experiment - who is more difficult to parent: toddlers or teens (my vote is for the teens)
Johanna (:

[Alison]

Yikes.

(What else can I say?! Aside from my interactions with kids (including yours) on the fly, I have no frame of reference.) So, just.. yikes.

Smiling.

[Amy]

I fully understand the intensity that is THREE!!!! And I'm getting a glimpse of the insanity that is FOUR!!!! as we gear up for the Great Birthday Celebration in two weeks.

Johanna, I teach 8th grade and there isn't a whole lot of difference between a 3 year old and a 13 year old. I say the same things to both. I have the same interactions with my students that I have with my daughter!

[m]

A1 turned four at the end of March and he didn't have the terrible twos or the f*cking threes, but it looks like he's heading into the FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE HELP US ALL fours. And this is timing quite nicely with A2's terrible twos. It's awesome. Shoot me now.

I like what Emily said above. So smart and true.

[mamie]

if you are telling me that this three bit goes on for the whole fucking year i am going to lose my shit. the last four days since they turned three have wracked me with total guilt because i already am losing it, how in the world will i survive 361 more days of this (its not a leap year, i checked) ?

what's that? i can? you are living proof. and what's that....mr ben is acting like a three year old after all of those years just posing for your pictures and looking like the most wonderful thing ever created? i feel better knowing that we both are going through it.

i better win one of these random generated number things....i think it would make it all right in my world. and oh. my. god. did evan really say that? he really did, huh? the kid is brilliant.

[gonzomama]

i cannot describe the relief i feel at reading all this. we are only half way to 4 and i am counting down the days.
and then we have the spitfire 18m old girl who thinks she's the same age as her brother. she's going to be sooo much fun at 3 i'm sure!!

[Melissa]

Someone once told me that if you haven't killed them in the TWO'S, you are certainly going to in the THREE'S!. My 3 year old has 5 months to go and it is starting to be a day to day proposition whether he makes it to 4!!!! (Of course he is currently asleep on the couch looking angelic and now I feel like the devil for even saying that!) Lovely post as usual.

[Catherine W]

'My brother died. I almost died. I had no heartbeat and you're yelling at me.'

Substitute sister for brother and I have this thought every time I say the big, bad NO. Even when I'm telling her not to touch the burning hot oven. Superfine dust is the perfect description. I think it will still probably get stirred up and re settle until she's 30 herself. And then some.

Emily, you're so right. She can't help the preamble. She's just a kid. Perhaps I should tape that to my refrigerator. Or the oven.

[starrlife]

Such a kind little boy! SO go and be kind to yourself hey! I too hate it when I let the top of my head blow off, some days it's like fingernails on a chalkboard in stark contrast to the smooth connection we usually have. Anticipation of teens- yikes!

[Karen]

Three is almost over here. September 3rd, 2010 I wholly anticipate will be a day of reckoning for the 1,459 days before that I either made myself proud or felt like a complete failure as a parent. I'm busying myself with penance, scanning these last few years of my life wondering just HOW time has managed to slip away from me so very fast and looking for signs that I've been on the right track all along and not completely blowing it. This motherhood thing is a tough gig and ~three~ is so very hard. It has made me pine for four and wistfully wax nostalgic for two, one and for counting life in months, weeks and moments that all began with the birth of this bundle of life that I created and yearned for. Never did I ever anticipate wanting time to speed up and slow down all at the same time. For as much as I want to say goodbye to three, I want to hold on to her littleness a fragment longer. Before I know it, she’ll be grown and won’t need me anymore. Not the way she needs me now anyway. I know that then, when I’m old, I will miss now. I will miss three.

[tash]

Funny, I was going to say "Enjoy this, because 4 is the new 2" but maybe not north of the border? Or something?

The NICU does not mean you don't get to vent after a hell day where you can't even rest your head without your aura being disturbed by farts. Even you get to frustrated and fed up and crawl in a hole and have a beer, just like normal mums. Really, you do. Go easy on you. Happy birthdays all around, and I hope for everyone's sake there was cake involved. xo

[wn]

OMG three is going to be worse than two isn't it.....no really.....the shreds of sanity that I have managed to keep....well covered under a haze of Moosehead....will dissipate just like the clean walls I used to have or the ability to sleep past 6:20am.

wow....three is going to be so much harder, thank you for this WOW realization....at least I know from the internet that you'll all be sympathetic.....you BETTER remember this come next year...

To Ben, you make your mother crazy, but she loves you oh so much....even if the madness takes over from time to time.

To Kate, I think I love you just a bit more when you are post-madness....because I see bits of myself that I can never fully articulate (whereas you can)...and you make me realize that it's ok that my life makes me stammer, grunt and hold my own head in my hands at some points during the day.

[magpie]

I have nothing to add. But I loved this post - for its ups and downs and horror and sweetness.

[Janis]

I'm sorry about the farty bed and puddles, and yes, I am laughing at all you have to go through.

Except I have salmon burger crumbs trailing from kitchen to bedroom, marker drawings on my very own face, broken glasses and so on...

Big ((hugs)) to you. much love.

[MereMortal]

Just sighing.
SIGH.
You speak to me, thank you, words of Kate.
Ben and Liam have been heavy on my mind. Know that. Just know there is a bright spot of love on my heart for them.
Happy 3, Ben. Indigo is right behind you.
xo

[chel]

We've one kid just out of THREE! and another entering THREE! in a few months. Your post completely nailed our experience. THREE! came out of nowhere for us and totally turned our world upside down. Reading your post helped to validate our craziness.

Your writing is just wonderful and it's the reason that I keep coming back.

[A.]

I won't be letting my husband know what happens when my son turns 3.....otherwise, he may end up an only child forever! ;)

[schmutzie]

This weblog is being featured on Five Star Friday! http://www.schmutzie.com/fivestarfriday/2010/4/30/five-star-fridays-edition-101.html

[Mom2GCNJ]

My sweet three-and-a-half-year-old little man's favorite joke - after a second or two of concentrated silence that ends in a little thwepppptttt is...... "Haha I toot-farted on your bed!!!"

The walls - crayon is my guy's medium of choice - the bills - his art - his sister's art - frantic demands to be dressed the MINUTE he awakes, followed by random flights of nakedness throughout the day - the fish tank.....covered in stickers and full of slime since I haven't gotten around to cleaning out the most recent can of fish food emptied into it......the stealthy trips to the sandbox without me.....the toothpaste....and THAT NOISE......from the moment he wakes - "where is my car? (THAT NOISE!!!!)" But after a bit - when the car, or a suitable substitute is found, "I love you mommy." Ahhh, yes I'll take that.

My little man's baby brother is gone too. So instead of being raised with a brother so close in age they could have passed for twins, my boy is sandwiched between two living sisters, significantly older and younger than he. I was puzzled by him when he was born - not too sure about boys, not sure the circumstances of our life could let me be the mother I wanted for him. Now I look at him and am staggered by my good fortune - despite everything I have a wailing, destructo-matic, dirt-loving, mysterious little boy to help navigate through life. He is beautiful. And yet - I still need that noise to STOP! I'm still a human mother, and my boy is three even though his brother is gone. Yes, I think I hear you Kate.

[Eileen]

Out of the Lurk I come.

Thank you for this. I have One of Those since March, and for several months building up to his third birthday I've probably cried every single day--out of frustration, guilt, anger, you name it. It's guilt most of the time, I suspect, after screaming and battling for the fifth time and it isn't even 10 a.m. Thank you for making me realize that he'll be fine, I'll be fine, and he is not some Mommy-Created-Monster due to bad parenting, but just...Three.

And on teens vs. threes....clearly I don't know, since my olderst is three, but, don't the teens at least go to school sometimes? I honestly think about this all the time, how it's supposed to get really hard again at 12/13, but then I think; they'll be gone, out of my hair, for at least six or seven hours out of the day. I can't even imagine...I've never been apart from my children for more than 4 hours, max, and that rarely. Time will tell-hope to make it there in one piece with sanity still in tact.

Thanks again for the beautiful words.

[Jen/Pinky]

The tremendous heaviness of being all-patient with my children because I've experienced picking out a gravestone for their sister is crushing. It crushes me and what comes out is anger that rains down on innocent little heads, ironically. And what springs up from that rain is a crop of guilt.

Sometimes I wonder why I think that I should be transcendent to anger, frustration, fatigue, pissiness, and poor decisions simply because I've chosen a gravestone.

Sometimes the heaviness is lifted when I realize that I gained the gift of perspective that day, not omnipotence.

Much love to you, Kate.

Jen/Pinky

[red pen mama]

This is exactly how I feel with Kate at 3 and Flora at 5. And Flora and I have our issues, but when I am "dealing with" Kate, she is the most angelic child. She is quiet; she occupies herself; she doesn't whine; while Kate and I go round after round regarding... you name it: the potty, something else to eat, eating something healthy instead of chocolate, going right instead of left, saying NO to me, saying NO to me some more, bed time — you know the drill.

And my heart just breaks to read how much MORE challenging it is with baby loss in the mix. In some ways Gabriel having come before has not triggered my guilt button when it comes to the wrestling, the disciplining, although i should yell less anyway, but sometimes it's hard to yell less. So, I send my good thoughts to you for that on top of THREE. That is so much harder.

[pnuts mama]

oh, love. some days it's just so.much.sharper than others. to the point of breaking with regret and sorrow and anger and resentment. i wish i could say that i've embraced the grace to let me have more days filled with gratitude than guilt over being my own imperfect self, but i can't.

today and in these weeks coming i'll pray that you feel eternal love and grace and peace and light in your heart...as we march on down our paths. xo.

[Kourtney]

Kate, I don't know what to say about some of this - but thank you. Because I have a girl who is three. THREE. Threeeeeeeeeeeee.... and a baby who is only 6 months, and so sweet, all on her own, and even sweeter in comparison to threeeeeeeeee. I was feeling a little bad that the threeeeeeeeeeeeeee is getting so much negative energy, and the baby was getting caught in the crossfire, so to speak.

But someday the baby will be threeeeeeeeee (I think it's inevitable), and my big girl will be caught in the crossfire. And that symmetry makes me feel a little better.

(Bracing to go back to the yogurt wars.)

K.