Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Happy, Happy, Hap-py

That's the title of the soon to be #1 hit from the mellow voice of my 3 year old. When he was born we were debating what his name should be: George Gilbert-honoring family or Samuel Asher- in tradition with our other children's names. We took family polls, contemplated and discussed. Finally, I did the unheard of...I left the choice to my husband and we decided to chose after he was born. Our thought was that he would "tell" us which it was. A was born so quickly, that I didn't get to see him until a few hours after his birth. M went with him to the nursery and when he joined me in the recovery room, I asked "so which is it?". With a mixed emotion he said "he's an Asher."

Funny thing though...the name Asher means happy. So it has just struck my fancy lately at how "happy" has become a theme from this child. When he likes something his response is "that makes me happy" or he'll just come in " I so happy" Summarized today of course, when he picks up the guitar, starts strumming and singing "Happy, happy, happy" One appreciates it more when they can hear it in his own speech impeded way.

Another thing about this child, he definitely sets his own agenda. His birth prepared me for that . He came a week before his due date (my only child to do that) then came much faster than any of the hospital staff expected (even though I told them it was a fourth child) and has been moving through life on his own terms ever since. He had this gorgeous head full of blonde curls, that I refused to cut short. Then one day M decided that he was cutting them off and A got the same buzz cut the other boys have. He was hysterical for the rest of the evening, "I want it back" he came crying to me. But, within the week he embraced this "new him" (the haircut changed his look from my baby to a little boy) and he decided that he WAS big (we'd been battling potty training, I'd ask don't you want to be big, babies go potty in their pants. And he'd say "I not big, I baby" ) After the haircut though he became big, at least in his mind, and there is no calling him baby anymore. Fortunately, he still loves hugs and cuddles, as do all my boys. But, heaven help me the day any of my boys say they are too big for hugs, for that's the day A will abandon them too.

Our "big" battle has now moved into the kitchen. His recent cause of un-happy-ness, was my refusal to allow him to cook Mac-n-cheese on the stove. His older brothers both can cook meals that require boiled water, and have learned to do most every step from filling the pot, to turning on the stove (I still drain the water) and adding the necessary ingredients to complete their pasta dish. Well, A just didn't accept that he's not big enough for cooking on the stove and full on tears ensued. Fortunately for me, his defiance is often in word only and while his mouth protests, his body complies. So, many tears and unheard explanations later lunch was on the table and A had not been near the stove. And after lunch all were happy again.

No comments: