Tell Me…What About Me?

The kids never tire of hearing stories about themselves as babies and toddlers. The stories are a way of claiming, giving them membership within our family and a sense of weaving us together. 

I found myself again this morning sharing interesting anecdotes about each of the kids. Here are a few from the past:

If a toddler can lust, Holden did…for brooms. We’d be on the lookout for a broom anywhere we went with him because once Holden had spotted a broom he had to touch it, hold it, sweep with it.  Separating him from the broom, regardless of how long he’d been able to cherish its weight and use, resulted in a full-blown tantrum. A restaurant we frequented took to hiding their brooms when they saw us coming in. Holden once chased a maintenance guy around the Charlotte airport in the quest for the brooms hanging off his rolling trash container. We gave him brooms for gifts. The fetish for brooms disappeared around the age of three-and-a-half.

Josi was our yeller…yep. Our daughter who likes to stay under the radar loved to call attention to herself. This behavior began in China, when she was nine months (she was our earliest walker). Josi would stand and yell, as if to say, “Look at me!” She wouldn’t stop until she made sure she had our “eyes.”  Our petite baby girl would then take a step or two and tumble over. She repeated the process again and again. Once she began walking, which was in a matter of days, she became quiet.

Aubry loved sticking things in things. Didn’t matter what or who’s “thing” it was. I had her finger up my nose or in my ear more than once. Everyone did. Aubry put things in her orifices too—as far as they would go. One of favorites was her nose. I knew it was just a matter of time before something stuck, and that something was Polly Pocket (remember those?) pink mirrored wrap-around sunglasses. Someone had left Josi’s Polly Pocket case open with the dangerous-to-children-under-the-age-of-three toys. It took a trip to the emergency room to get them out. The ER docs were impressed.

Greyson was the banana masher (reminiscent of Josi’s noodle trick—another story). The first few times it happened I panicked, sure he would choke to death. Greyson loved bananas and still does. One day, before I could cut it into bite-size pieces, Greyson grabbed and shoved the entire banana into his mouth. I don’t know how he did it, but he did. I couldn’t get it out. He clamped his mouth shut and kinda mashed it up and swallowed the banana whole—like a snake. Now he bites them off.

 So, what are your stories? Do you tell them over and over?

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1 Comment

Filed under Claiming, Multicultural Families, Parenting, The International Mom

One response to “Tell Me…What About Me?

  1. Our kids love this too – I agree it weaves us together and lets them celebrate their past instead of thinking about the loss & separation…

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