Yes Man

"Is anyone else experiencing these crazy tantrums?"

One of my friends from an ECFE class posed this question in a group e-mail.  The responses flooded in.

"We are in the throes of the terrible twos."

"We can't do anything without crying."

"It's no, no no, all day long."

Huh, I thought to myself.  Oliver has his moments like any other kid, but really, he doesn't seem to be that bad.  Heck, he hardly says no, like, ever.  He's always nodding yes.  What an agreeable child we have.

And then the sun came up the next day.  Oliver adopted those two little letters for his own.

"Oliver, do you want a banana?"

"No."

"Can you get your shoes on?"

"No."

"We need to get your diaper changed now, Ollie."

"No-no!"

I'll be honest- my heart actually broke a little.  Not out of disappointment, really.  But I grew up in a family where we didn't say "no" quite so directly.  Our Norwegian-Lutheran approach was more like, "you know, I'm not exactly sure I agree with that, but thank you for bringing it up," or, "I'll pass this time around, thank you."  Or my favorite, "that's okay," which throws everyone into a vat of passive-agressive confusion.  "Do you want ice cream?"  "That's okay."  Meaning, ice cream is okay?  Or no thank-you?  "I don't think so," "not reaaaallllly," "I'm going a different route-" all these were things we said to avoid saying "no."

"Ollie, can I get a hug?"

"No."

(Insert the sound of my heart shattering into smitherines.)

In addition to "no," Oliver polished his dramatic effects on the toddler tantrum.  He squinches up his face in agony, and then from a standing position, puts his hands out and dives onto the surface of the floor, arms and legs out like a stick figure, sobbing.  His flare for the dramatic is all too familiar, and although it's me that I see in this pitiful display of angry-sad, I cannot help but join Michael in laughing at it all.  Because if we can't laugh, we're going to start to break during the days when Oliver reminds me distincly of my hormonal self at age 16 and pregnant 30, all put together.

When we returned from England, Oliver had new games, new words, and the sweetest new habit.  His no's have been replaced with an exhuberant, "yyyeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!"  Now if we can only replace his tantrums with taking out the trash, we'll be set.