"I Tan't. I'm Busy."

"I tan't. I'm busy!" he told me when I asked him to calm down. While this child may never be a Rhodes Scholar or graduate as valedictorian of his class, Will is smart as a whip. When he told me he was busy, he wasn't referring to his own jam-packed schedule. He was citing Merriam-Webster's second definition of the word. "Full of activity: bustling." He was using it negatively, as the reason he couldn't possibly comply with my request.

The Internet, keeper of all knowledge, says that, "By age 3, a toddler's vocabulary usually is 200 or more words, and many kids can string together three-or four-word sentences." Will is most definitely in the "or more" category of three year olds and he won't even be two and a half until December. As for stringing together three or four word sentences, well, he speaks in paragraphs. But beyond that, he understands concepts and ideas. The concept of busyness, for example, isn't lost on him.

I'll readily admit that this started with me. From the moment Will could crawl, he demonstrated an energy that seemed almost inhuman. It's an energy found in monkeys swinging endlessly from tree to tree or modeled, perhaps, in a battery that outlasts the rest. I have often joked that we could power our entire house using just Will and I've long mentioned his hyperactivity as a sort of preemptive apology. It was one thing when he was one and had no idea what the heck I was talking about. But it's become clear to me that he's simply too smart for me to continue using this kind of language around him. And, perhaps because I have made so many comments, it's become the common rhetoric of others. (Although, complete strangers have also felt the need to inform me that my child is "busy" as if this was information that had somehow escaped my attention.)

If he's able to use it as an excuse, he's definitely able to understand that comments about his energy and his busyness are said, at least 99% of the time, as a negative--as though there is something wrong with him. The most common thing I've heard (over and over and over and over and over again) is that people just don't know how we do it. My perceived implication of this is that Will is so exhausting that people have no clue how we could possibly deal with him all day every day.

Like I said before, this started with me and I take full credit for leading the charge when it comes to joking around about Will's energy. Even today, even after I've made a conscious effort to not make such comments around him, I said, "You're a maniac." Granted, he was long past nap time and zooming around my school like the Energizer Bunny on an upper, but still. I need to check myself and my language because he is so intuitive and also, he is not a maniac. He is not a person exhibiting extreme symptoms of wild behavior, especially when violent and dangerous.

Will has a lot of energy. I'm not in denial about that at all. He very well may receive a hyperactive diagnosis at some point in the future. But I do not want him defined by that. I do not want him to use it as an excuse because he's been overwhelmed by the sheer number of times it's been said to him. We are learning, through research and trial and error, that Will is incredibly sensitive to sugar and probably red dye. We're trying to limit his intake of both, and up his protein, and we've seen improvement in his ability to focus and respond.

As for how we "deal with him all day every day" well, we don't. We GET to have him in our lives. Are we tired by the end of the day? Yes, indeed. But we were tired at the end of the day with our other boys, too. When you have held a stillborn baby and you beg the Lord to bless you with another child--one whose heart is beating--you try not to complain when that child rarely stops moving.

This is by no means meant as an attempt to call anyone out. If you've talked to me about how busy or crazy or maniacal Will is, you're in good company. His own parents are the former presidents of that particular club. It's just meant to explain why we will be trying not to use that kind of language moving forward. He's too smart and I believe that it will soon begin to define his self worth.

Will is JOY. He wakes up with the biggest smile and a, "Hello, Mommy!" ready to face the day that he seems so eager to experience. Sometimes, it is as though he is just so thankful to be alive. I can't help but wonder if he just feels the need to soak it all in at once. We will be his advocates in all things. For us, it happens to be starting at age two. This is why, when we receive comments about difficulty in parenting him, we will respond with positive language, reflecting the fact that we are blessed, every day, by the amazing kid God gave us.

"He's so busy."

"He does have a zest for life."

"I just don't know how you do it..."

"We count it all joy."

Toddler Talk

I used to blog all the hilarious things my toddlers would say. Then they grew up, got busy, I got a job, and I abandoned my blog like one of those creepy, old, empty amusement parks. But I have another toddler now. This toddler was talking well before either of his brothers ever did. He speaks in full sentences and paragraphs which means that he often says hilarious and also adorable things.

Will is obsessed with this old stethoscope we have. I just had shoulder surgery and he likes to bring the stethoscope in and listen to my chest to make sure my shoulder is okay. Or something. Troy and I were discussing that we want to get him a doctor's kit for Christmas. That made me think that Will probably doesn't remember Christmas from last year and certainly doesn't remember Santa.

"Hey Will," I said. "Do you know who Santa Claus is?"

He paused, looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Um. Mommy."

He had absolutely no idea what he was saying but I laughed out loud. It was so funny. I'm guessing that with big brothers refusing to sit on Santa's lap, this little one might have some questions about the validity of Santa. He may not last too long but I sure hope we get to do Santa for the next couple of years.

Last night, he was being naughty at the table. I wish I could say this was an isolated incident but we're raising some combination of Dennis the Menace and every Little Rascal. I asked him what would happen if he didn't stop. "Mommy will slam my face into computer."

His big brothers erupted into hysterics. One of them informed Will that I'm not violent. I was glad for the support. I repeated my question and he said some other outlandish abusive thing that I might try. I wish I could remember what it was. I have no idea where he came up with any of it. Mommy has never ever, not once, slammed anyone's face into her computer.

His voice is so sweet and has the most precious cadence to it. I mean, sometimes it's whiny without intention and often it's whiny because he's two but the rest of the time it's just straight up adorable.