William's Girlfriends.

As I watch William he begins to interact with other children more and more. Although his limited vocabulary often halts the interaction or strains it, I get the feeling he more or less understands what is going on. Quite often he will even try and sit with other kids instead of his mom and me, even if they have no intention of playing with him. He did this on the hayride to a pumpkin patch, where he insisted on sitting with some older boys instead of sitting next to his mom. (Which terrified her because no one would hold him should the tractor suddenly stop and he go flying forward.)His interaction, I believe, is based on what he has seen on tv, of kids playing with kids, and on this own personal interest in people his size. These relations are, more and more, with older girls.

                  William has always had a fascination with older women. Even at one he was staring at women as they walked by, and never at guys. As he has gotten older he has proved himself to be a little Casanova. If there is a girl aged 5-10 in his immediate area he will gravitate to her and use his baby charms to convince her to play with him. A few perfect examples are from the Spotsylvania Town Center’s play place. At one time he saw a girl sitting behind a bridge. He went to her and stared. She barked at him to leave and he proceeded to sit down next to her. Throughout the rest of the time he followed her around the play area, usually just as she stood up, and he would sit down wherever she had just been.

                  Alright, that example does not exactly show how much of a ladies’ man William is. These examples do. At the same play place William flirted with two girls within minutes of each other. The first was sitting in the horse carriage, which William promptly climbed. No sooner had he sat next to her than her arm goes around his shoulder. When she had left he went down to the horse part that a girl was riding. She turned around and talked to him, picked him up, and he rode the horse sitting behind her, and then another girl came up and sat behind him. With me as a role model I doubt this phase will be very long, if he inherits any of my personality his chick magnet days will be pretty much over. 

Billy, Billy, quite contrary.

There is something dictatorial about being a parent. It goes against all I have learned and hold dear to say to William "It doesn't matter what you want, you need to do what I want you to do because I know better." In a sense I do no better. I know what is good for him to eat, I know what we need to get done in a day, I know that we are going to the park and that he will like it even though he fusses when I put him in his car seat. But where does "Scottie knows best" turn into "I just want you to make things easier on me"? For example: If William and I are at the library, and he wants to leave the kids room to wander the Library, but I want him to stay in the kids area, not only so he doesn't disturb the books and the patrons, but because it is easier for me to sit and watch him in the kids room than to follow him around the library. William is at the age where he is learning about his own ability to make decisions, the power of words, and that he can be contrary, although he is fast learning that this means having privileges taken away and not having attention paid to you when you fake cry.

I've been questioning where my authority comes from since the day I became a role model for William. I suppose for most parents this authority is a little more believed, being a biological parent means your child is physically yours and the law, evolution and society say you should do whatever you want in order to raise them. Of course I over exaggerate, but as a biological parent the social, federal, religious and natural instincts of knowing best are a little stronger than me, whose authority lies in that I love William and want whats best and that his mommy trusts me. My authority lies in just personal belief that I know what to do, when quite often I don't or I find what I've known is wrong.

Alright enough serious talk, ya'll came here for cute tales of William, not a college student's view on parenthood. Of course we will be talking today of William's contrary moments, for a post that starts with how contrary William is, followed by evidence that would support the contrary, would make me a bad story teller indeed. I will start with a tale that proves it slightly wrong though.

Last night, at dinner, we told William to eat the cheerios the restaurant had given him with his hands, and fully expected him to do so. Having hands full of crayons however, William devised a plan. In what was seven parts luck, three parts skill, he deftly used a crayon to pick up a cheerio and eat it in front of his mother and I. I will admit that in this situation I did not know best, because that was just plain awesome.

Now that that bit of awesome is out of the way, let us begin where all stories that I seem to write do, at the mall. My girlfriend had to work all day and William and I found ourselves in Fredericksburg with no place to go. Throughout the day we'd wander to the library, target, books a million, cheeburger cheeburger and a few other places. Our day, however, is not the story. The story is William and how his newfound love of the word no met with my authority and how I learned to get by it.

William despises shopping carts. For some reason the idea of sitting there and shopping is as abhorrent to him as rooting for the cowboys is seen as in DC. Now, the trouble comes in both the form of ease and better for him. In order to get to the playground faster I need to get the supplies for the day faster, and thus if he is in the cart he gets what he wants sooner. There is also ease. I cannot hold him, as he is heavy and pushing a cart while holding him would become tiring after a fason. I could not let him walk, as he is in his "pull everything off the walls" phase as well. So my choice was fairly well made, the cart is where he would sit. Despite my plans William locked his legs and refused to sit, cries of "uh uh" breaking the quiet store. I finally sat him down despite his screams and protests and then said "go, go, go, go, go!" And began to push the cart quickly and rode on it. His complaints stopped, as long as whenever he cried "go, go, go, go, go!" The cart moved at a speed he wished.

Perhaps one area that I could not fix was that of food. William's food pallet is changing daily and I cannot keep up with what he does and does not eat. Simple standbys such as fries and apples are no longer acceptable. This makes lunch time much more challenging. At cheeburger cheeburger, a new 50's style diner, I ordered a burger and got william milk, chicken strips and fries. William refused all of it, but eyed my burger and my onion rings until I simply decided to hand them over. I cannot wait until he can order for himself, or learns that he actually likes more than he will admit.

The final example I will use is one from our moments in the car, waiting for his mommy to get off work. I asked if I could read him his book. He said no. I gave him the book and asked him to read. He turned it around (Upside down) and began to read it to me as he had seen me read to him. This is when I realized that many of his no's are just him trying to figure things out on his own, and even though I need to show him some authority to influence his development, he needs to develop his own decisions by trial.

Sunday with William

William and I spent the day together on Sunday while my girlfriend made it through her first real day of her new job. I have talked about similar situations as this many a time, so I will stick with the highlights rather than an in depth look on the day as a whole.

Our day took us first to the mall, one of the few locations open at 9:40 on a Sunday morning. When we crossed the street, after stopping and looking both ways in an exaggerated manner so he learns at least to stop before going out even if he doesn't grasp why, we found our way to the mall entrance. I pointed straight ahead, at the handicap buttons that open the door. I've found the best way to get William to move in a certain direction is to give him something fun to do wherever I need him to go, and buttons fit the bill. A call of "Go get the button" followed my finger and he dashed for it, or waddled, dashing is not a skill he has quite mastered. Pushing all the buttons we found our way inside and William began to run again, cries of "Go, go, go, go, go!" echoing through the quiet mall. I caught up and we ran together, yelling "Go, go, go, go, go!" Every so often and laughing as we made out way through the mall.

We made our way to Books-A-Million, where I decided to choose my horse after Borders died. At borders there are giant steps inside for children to sit during story time, and they are one of William's favorite places to climb. Usually he and I find ourselves alone at the top, that is, I find myself alone at the top reading aloud a Dr. Seuss book as he explores each and every step. Sunday was different. A little girl was hiding stuffed animals under a blanket, the blanket itself unable to contain the pile any longer. Her mother came up to her and asked about the animals, sparking the reply of "What's he doing here!" from the girl, pointing at William in a means to move blame or something. Either way she falls under the category of snitch, which I have told my feelings towards earlier. Her mom simply said "Climbing, just like you." At this attention William's face lit up and he took a step towards the girl, invoking a surprised leap of fear backwards from the girl. It was as if William was a monster set on ruining her good time.

After the mall I took William to a McDonalds with a play place. I bought a sweet tea, but nothing more. My girlfriend and I don't give William McDonalds if we can help it, and on a day with so much time I was able to get him something much better beforehand. The sweet tea was merely so they'd allow us to stay and play. A birthday party was going on and I didn't want William to stay long, but if I had left with him then he would have whined about going in and out of the car, and I felt this unfair. I let him play and he did surprisingly well for the time we were there. As the kids began to play hide and seek William's curiosity peaked. He watched as a little girl counted to ten and ran after the other kids. In her absence William went to where she had been, squatted and began to count the best he could. It was perhaps the most adorable moment of the day.

Our day ended at Target, where we bought flowers and a snack for my girlfriend. As we began to walk towards the store William eyed a tow truck. I let him lead the way and we stopped next to it and watched it pull the car aboard. William stood dumfounded, having found a real life robot.

We were barely at the entrance when William eyed the giant red balls in front of Target. Having an obsession with anything round he went over (With cries of "Go, go, go, go, go") and attempted to roll them. I followed and tried to help him. By the end of it we had attempted to roll every immovable sphere in front of target.