Noah has always been a good, quiet, kind, sweet little baby boy. He is all laughs and funny faces and kisses and cuddles. He never cried, he slept through the night from about 6 weeks, in his own room. He was just perfect. Never got sick, never had any feeding issues. Nothing. Perfect. Him.
These past 4 months or so, he has become a different boy. He is growing up and starting to become more aware of his surroundings. My gentle boy is now so boisterous that I don't even allow him on my bed anymore. He's too rough. All the jumping and elbows in faces and using my stomach as a trampoline doing his tigger impersonation. It's not really working out for me.
Sometimes I'm left with Noah and Benjamin on my own, and I can't chase Noah around the house with an infant on my boob, so I'm trying to train Nu to "sit on the chair" in my room while I feed. It's not working. It only works for five minutes if he has melted cheesy toast on his lap. Thereafter, forget it.
Thing is, Noah is a perfect little gentleman around the nanny. He is bad with me and to be honest, at his worst with Graeme. And I have become the bad guy. And I have resorted to the worst line on the planet that I promised myself I would never ever use. Noah was being his cheeky little self yesterday, and somewhere in between it all, I lost my patience and shouted "I'm going to get my shoe!!!". Of course, he laughed. When I shout his name, he shouts it back to me in a mocking tone and smiles. Then it's cute how clever he is and I start laughing and I may as well go out and purchase a shotgun and shoot myself.
I am struggling with discipline. I don't know how to get my almost-two year old to take me seriously. I'm about 5 seconds away from sending him to finishing school. He is his dad's son. Graeme and Noah are both rough, boisterous, clumsy, big guys that don't know their own strength and don't seem to gel very well with their surroundings.
I want refined, gentle, smooth guys that swoosh in and out of rooms without you noticing. Graeme and Noah enter rooms with bangs and loud voices and they move everything around and don't put things back and leave a trail of complete destruction wherever they go. And I'm sick to death of it.
Benjamin and I are the same. Quiet, pensive people. We keep to ourselves and enjoy the quiet and the clean and our own company.
It feels like it will always be Graeme and Noah in their corner, and Benjamin and I on the other side of the room. Which really is how it is now.
But then I'm sure that Benjamin will grow up to be a loud, messy, clumsy little yogurt-faced boy in no time... at which point I will just lock myself in my room and hide from all of them.