Motherhood and More: Seeing beyond the tantrums*

Well, I was going to spend this space talking about how my son is 5 years old and I can hardly believe it and where has the time gone, etc., etc.

But then he threw a major tantrum because I wouldn’t let him watch anymore TV so I’m just not feeling it, you know?

I’ve heard parenting becomes a little easier once your child is 5 years and 1 month old. Apparently, it’s a magic number where rainbows fill the sky and unicorns jump out of your kid’s mouth instead of the incessant attitude that normally regurgitates from that region. Your child will start listening and obeying without question because you know better than he does because you are his mother and therefore always right.

I still have a few more weeks to go on this one. We’ll see.

Of course, it’s not like things aren’t easier than when he was, say, his sister’s age. He can dress himself and brush his own teeth and turn on his own Wii video game he’s not supposed to be playing.

I don’t have to monitor how many times he goes to the bathroom and other than an unnatural fondness for peanut butter and jelly, he eats a balanced diet without supplementing with candy that he’s climbed up on the counter to reach the top of the refrigerator to steal.

Unlike his sister.

So 5 years old. I just can’t believe it.

I remember when he was new and I tried to picture what he would be like when he was on the cusp of school, on the cusp of walking even further away from me and needing me less and less. It always made me sad because here was this tiny little boy, dependent on me for everything, who would one day refuse to let me kiss him because “Kisses are gross, Mom.”

And here we are. I’ve got a little man who can already can ride his bike without training wheels, who introduces himself to everyone he meets, who just realized a couple months ago his father and I don’t go to bed right when he does and so now comes downstairs to tell us he can’t sleep. But, really, I think he’s just checking on what we’re doing.

I’ve got a little man who will strike up a conversation with a complete stranger and after 45 seconds will know their favorite Star Wars character and be in the middle of an enlightened discussion on how Anakin/Darth Vader really isn’t bad at all.

I have a little man who can put some Lego sets together all by himself by following the directions, who loves puzzles and books and drawing pictures.

I have a little man who will cry at sad parts of movies but then say, “I don’t know why my eyes are watering.”

I have a little man who cut out a paper heart and gave it to me “Just in case yours gets broken, Mom.”

I have the best little man I could ever have hoped for. Even with occasional tantrums.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on July 24, 2013.