In a way, I guess that’s what resolutions are anyway. Caleb, my thirty year old son trapped in a three year old’s body, is now learning about New Year’s Resolutions. The best way I could explain a resolution was “as a rule or promise we make to ourselves with the hope of achieving a better us.” Without further discussion, he immediately understood the process by which the resolution business goes down.
Step 1: Make resolution.
Caleb’s was (and this was completely of his own agenda – I did absolutely no prompting or idea giving) To be better at making good choices. I thought that was amazing! Way to go Caleb! I approve, not that my approval matters, this is his resolution, not mine. Anyhow, resolution made: Improve on making good choices.
Step 2: Get excited about commiting to said resolution.
All day Caleb was stoked about his resolution. “I gonna make good choices! (Picture little fingers shooting out as he lists off his plan) finger one: I gonna listen, two: share ol’ blue bita wif Jacob, three: not say bad words like supid or hate…. which brings me to step 3.
Step 3: Binge on all behaviors opposite to resolution before January 1st arrives.
Like the individual who plans to give up junk food for New Year’s binges on all things edible in their path until 11:59 on December 31st, my son is having a “naughty binge.” I barely recognize this creature. Don’t get me wrong, even for being a total badass at the moment, he’s not that horrible to handle but if there’s a bad choice to go down, he’s more then considered it. Examples: For over three years now, bedtime is bedtime. Once those covers hit the shoulders, it is expected he stay in bed until he’s taken a full journey and returned from Dreamland. This is no longer the case. Tonight, we brushed his teeth, put on his footie pajamas, read his three stories, said our prayers, and pulled those covers up. I kissed him on the forehead then headed to the bathtub with Jacob for his turn. I was just gloating to Scott over text about how remarkable our Caleb was on my way to turn off his nightlight when, gasp, his covers were awry and in the middle of it all lay an empty hole where his body used to lie. I tune in to my second sense, hearing, and, yep…yep that’s definitely a tv I hear downstairs. I take a deep breath and head on down. “Caleb, this is not okay. I tucked you in, you’re supposed to be upstairs sleeping.” Caleb: “But mommy, sometimes I do dis. Sometimes I needa come down and watch a movie.” Me: “When? When do you do this? When is this ever acceptable?” He looks around, deep in thought, then starts heading for the stairs. We go through this about 3 more times with his “needs,” a car, he’s not sleepy, he needs to be re-tucked in. I know this is nothing terrible, if anything, it’s probably typical, but it’s not Caleb. Here he is breaking routines just for the hell of it.
Obviously, that’s not my only example but I don’t want to drone on for hours about it. General gist, if I ask him not to do it, it will be done. If it’s a part of our routine, he’ll break it. If there’s a line to cross, you can bet his toes will be right there, ready to go over. It’s his pre-resolution binge. Man, I hope January 1st brings my boy back, especially before he discovers booze and cigarettes. I’m kidding, but I hope he doesn’t complete the entire scope of the resolutionary war.
Step 4: Begin resolution
Step 5: Break resolution
::Fingers crossed we hang out at stage four for a long, long time:: Happy New Years!