The Little Giant and the Little Tyrant
Looking at my two sons together evidences that it's all about perspective. My toddler, who we used to see as so little looks like a giant compared to the newest addition to our clan. We thus designated him as the Little Giant. Our newest member is also the most demanding. He may be small, frail and completely dependent on us for survival, but there is no question who is in charge (nature knew to make a newborn's cry so cutting that it heels everyone to prostrate themselves in service to its cause). We tiptoe around when he is asleep, we wipe his butt and we bow down to the diktat of the Little Tyrant. He is merciless. He demands to be rocked and if we should think it fit to put him down, he bellows out as if signalling any army to attack (from which we cower and comply). We are still unsure whether we have been continually urinated on due to misfortunate timing or as a form of punishment.
This is not to say that our Little Giant is not demanding. He also has a tyrannical streak (I wonder what this says about us..). Instead of crying out like the Little Tyrant, he is however more prone to burst out one word commands to have us do his bidding and failing this, stomps about in a huff, which seems fitting for a giant. Innumerable times a day he simply says "bus" and by this command expects us to immediately start singing "Wheels on the Bus"- which command I have fulfilled to the point of developing a nervous tick every time I see a bus go by. Another song he is partial to which he announces as "ouch" is Ten in the Bed. I thought fit to act out this song by having an assortment of nine toys fall through his miniature basketball hoop to their "ouch" doom and the Little Giant was so enamoured with his newfound power that soon he sanctioned all his toys to fall through the hoop (despite their vociferous protest using yours truly as a conduit) to their ouchdom. By the time the last toy was pleading not to fall, his smile had colonized his entire face, a gluttonous glint in his eye, searching for ever more victims. If the laws of physics were to allow it, he would have commanded I be ouched through the hoop.
Gone are the days when we had freedom. When we could just take a walk, or go to dinner or a play on a whim. Visiting a gallery? Ha. I sneak that in when I go on business trips back to NYC (when there's a will, there's a way). And yet, it's all worth it. When the Little Giant looked at us the other day and said "happy", I melted away. The other day was our 4th wedding anniversary. There we sat, wine in hand, one covered in pee (collateral damage from potty training the Little Giant), the other covered in spit up (collateral damage from nursing the Little Tyrant), enjoying the quiet (a rare treasure). It may be a less than glamorous scene, but we were overjoyed regardless, for two beings that didn't exist before, albeit they put us to service and stretch our sanity, never cease to amaze us...