Incredible kids.
My kids are incredible. Yeah, yeah…here we go, another parent proclaiming they have spawned the returned Messiah. Truly though, my kids are quite amazing and it isn’t until the house is quiet and I am sitting here listening to the gentle snores of the littlest one tucked up in between myself tapping away on the laptop and my husband trying to block out said tapping to attempt sleep, that I really reflect on how lucky we are and how fabulous the children are.
They are so different, I know I have said it before, but every day I am amazed at just how different they are. And somehow it works. Take today for instance. Delilah, the queen of the universe, who can simply not understand or accept why everything in existence doesn’t revolve around her two-year-old being, and Leo, the over-anxious, caring, quiet, thinking four-year-old and myself decide to go down the street.
Delilah has a bike. It is pink, it has three wheels and it has two seats. But Delilah’s legs are as yet too short to reach and push the pedals the full circle they require to move forward. So, as a result, Leo rides it for her and she takes a load off in the back seat. So, we saddle up:
Me: “Ok guys, let’s ride down the street.”
Leo puts on his hat, his boots and goes to get the bike. Delilah is already out the door, one sock, no shoes, no hat, door left wide open behind her. Leo has a small coronary and insists Delilah rectifies all of the above. She says no with a well-perfected death stare and Leo politely and patiently explains that we simply cannot go any further in our planned adventure until she has appropriate footwear, protection from the sun and closes that door so the flies don’t get in because Daddy hates flies. Again, Delilah replies with a very short, but very loud and insistent “NO”.
We do this for a bit, Delilah practices some more stubborn traits until, eventually, she gives in. For this reason, we need to leave at least half an hour early for any engagement to allow for Delilah’s independence speech before we board the vehicle of choice for that day.
Ok, so here we are ready to go.
Delilah (holding on in the back seat): “It is scarwy Eo.”
Leo: “It is ok Lilah, I will go slow for you.”
Delilah: “Hanks for dat Eo, hanks for going slow.”
Leo: “My pleasure Delilah.”
And off we go!
After a relatively uneventful ride the two blocks to the main street, we arrive at the Post Office.
Me: “Ok, off the bike, park it there out of the road. Inside, you may look at all the pretty things but please do not touch them.”
Delilah: “Why?”
Me: “Because I have asked you not to, now you show me how good you are at listening.”
Inside the Post Office we go.
Leo asks if he can help me at all by carrying something, Delilah runs straight to the trinkets and starts lovingly handling them all and feeling each and every one to experience all the shop has to offer, afterall, it would be a shame to miss out.
Me: “Delilah, please only look.” I say in the hope she may suddenly become a different person just for the five minutes I have to be in the Post Office with many inviting things at two-year-old level. But just for that five minutes, no longer. It doesn’t happen. Probably a good thing because Delilah just wouldn’t be Lilah without having to experience absolutely everything on offer in the world without fear or judgement. Leo walks behind her quietly telling her how to at least handle the things properly so there are no damages.
Job done, time to go. I open the door. Delilah begins a very loud protest about her wanting to open the door. We give her this one and close the door allowing her to open it herself. She does, but then takes up residence on the Post Office floor holding the door wide open. I diplomatically discuss this for some time while apologising to everyone stepping over the small child and the concerned brother at 4.30pm in the Post Office doorway.
Then I give up. It had been a long day, in fact our third trip down the street.
Me: “Ok, well you can stay there Delilah, but we are going over to the supermarket. Bye”
Leo: “But Mummy, we can’t leave her here, I do like her, she is Lilah. What if she gets locked in, then she will have to sleep here and I am sure she will miss us.”
Me: “It’s ok Leo, I wasn’t really going to leave her, I was just pretending.”
Delilah, of course hears all this and renders my threat useless.
After quite sometime, a lot of convincing and possibly a bribe, we are eventually back on the bike.
Don’t even ask about the supermarket! All I’ll say is the protest reached fever pitch when we had to have a large conversation in the meat section about why we need to wear shoes in the supermarket.
Total opposites, but two peas in a pod. Leo goes to kinder for two hours on a Wednesday morning and Delilah spends the entire two hours asking where he is and if he is ok. Delilah is completely uninhibited, willing to give everything a go and take in all on offer. Leo is cautious but has a hilarious sense of humour. He is so very caring and responsible and always there to catch Delilah when her grand plan doesn’t quite work out. Delilah encourages Leo to push his boundaries and let some of the worry go. She looks up to him and wants to learn everything he has to teach. Together they make up the best games and have great fun, and mostly, not always, but mostly enjoy each others company.
Two amazing kids in their own separate ways. How lucky are we that we get to watch them grow together and discover new parts of their personality each day. A tantrum here and an over-anxious worry there pale to insignificance in the wonder of two incredible children.
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