To Raleigh, On Your Discovery of "No"

It was probably the dog's water, left down while I wasn't paying attention, then you playing in it (the one unwinnable war) while I was trying to cook dinner, frustration into "Raleigh, NO. You KNOW you're not supposed to do that. That's YUCKY." You had been smiling and happy. I wiped your hands, and you ran into the living room, and I followed. From the other side of the couch, you looked up at me and said "NO!" Your lips turned down, hard. "NO!"

Not "no," like "stop it," but "no," like "noooOOOOOOOOOOooooo!!!" as if you'd just discovered that everything dies. And that is how you say no. Like it's the most painful thing in the world, every time.

I guess it is, for you. Everything you see is amazing, and at least 1/8th of it is removed from your little hands with a "no," and you have no way to understand or cope with that. Multiple times a day, the only thing you care about in the whole entire world (whatever it happens to be at that moment) is taken away.

I just took away the shriveled piece of carrot with black around the edges that you were trying to eat: "noooOOOOOOoooooo!!!!" And yesterday, when we were all sitting at the table, and you caught sight of the bag of bird food on the windowsill. You wanted it, because (I guess) it looked like a bag of Raleigh food. I picked it up and said "This is yucky, it's bird food," and put some on your tray for you to see or play with or eat. You pointed at the bag again, and I said "That tastes yucky" again, and pointed at the bird food I'd put on your tray. "NoooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooo!!!!!!" you said. It wasn't even exactly a valid response to the situation - you HAD some right there, and no one had even said "no" to you. "That was a weird time for him to say that," I said. "'No' is more of a feeling than a word," Joe said. 10% funny, 90% exactly true.

This is difficult. You're so awesome and precious and wonderful and smart and happy and adorable and YOUR SADNESS IS AN EMERGENCY. You want that black-edged carrot? I'm sure it can't hurt you! You want to splash in the dog's disgusting saliva-water? We have antibacterial handwipes and I can mop it up! (No. Just..no. He EATS POOP. I have boundaries.) Whatever you want, I'm sure I can deal with the consequences of you having it!

But - I know, I know - that's just not how it works. I know. I can't give you everything. I can't fix everything. Everyone knows what happens to the kids whose parents give too much, fix too much.

Another But: The important thing, one of the most important things so far, I think...

That "NooooOOOOOOOoooo" feeling, that huge emotion in your tiny body - we'll be there for you when you're experiencing it. Kitchen floor, at the park, in the car, Chik-Fil-A floor, Target floor - if you're overwhelmed, we'll try our absolute hardest not to be.

[On the days I don't fail you,]

You will not be punished for "tantrums."

[When I am who I want to be for you,]

I will help with your problems instead of reacting to your behavior.

When you're screaming because I asked you to put the dinosaur back on the shelf, I won't squeeze your arm and hiss "STOP IT," - I'll stay next to you and say "You were having fun, and I said we had to go. That is hard. You're very upset right now. I understand, and I'm here if you need a hug." I mean, picking you up and gently removing you from the situation causing your upset is probably what will happen next, but all the yelling and hitting and lashing out in frustration will be on your end.

Guiding you through your overwhelming emotions when I'm overwhelmed, too, will be the biggest challenge I've ever faced, but I will do everything in my power to give that to you.