Eli. Oh, my Eli Be-li Boy. Sometimes I think that if Eli had been our first child, he would have been our only child. Other times I think we wouldn't have known any better and we just would have thought that's how kids were, and Ian still would have come along. Either way, parenting Eli is NOTHING like parenting Ian. I find it absolutely mind boggling that two children can have such inherently different personalities. I've heard the nature vs. nurture argument and believe me when I say, their differences are 100% nature. I have raised the two of them exactly the same. But while Ian is the most easy going human being to ever grace this earth and his face is always angelic; Eli has a look on his face 24/7 that just screams, "MISCHIEF ON THE MIND!" It's a good thing this look is so darn cute, or I would go insane.
Eli is a miniature version of my dad. From the day he was born, Cole's mom has always said that when she looks at Eli all she can see is Ted. It's so true, too. I have always looked just like my dad, except for my green eyes, the only physical trait inherited from my mom. My Grandma Zimmerman's friends even called me "Little Teddy" when I was a kid. And my dad's senior portrait? Let's put it this way, if I managed to find the necktie he had on in the picture and had my portrait taken while wearing it, you would be hard pressed to decide who was who. A couple of months ago, I found a baby picture of an 11 month-old me, and it looked EXACTLY like Eli. The Zimmerman genes are very strong, and Eli is ALL Zimmerman. And the bond Eli has with my dad is undeniable. When he is upset with me, he cries for Papa. Usually, kids flock to my mom, but Eli has always been drawn to my dad, just like I always was.
But the similarities to my dad don't end there. Eli chews on EVERYTHING. He has eaten chunks of foam out of his sandals and chunks of wood out of my wooden tables. Wood! Not particle board, wood! He has eaten wood, people! When I asked my parents, "Who would do that?!" they immediately answered, "Your dad!" My Grandma had said that she thought my dad was part goat when he was a kid (pun intended). Once, she had a set of side chairs reupholstered in a lovely vinyl (very chic for the era), and my dad, a little guy at the time, chewed all of the trim off of the chairs in a matter of hours. I'm sure it was delicious. Eli seems to like the taste of faux leather. Just recently he ate the ear off of his Monster Mutt monster truck toy.
The similarities don't end there, either. Eli has a temper. My dad was famous for his temper as a little guy. He was smaller than most of the kids in the neighborhood and if you didn't include him when you were playing, Lord help you. Among his most noted acts of revenge were cutting the center out of a volleyball net, so all that was left were the top and bottom bands, when he wasn't allowed to play volleyball with the rest of the bigger kids, and busting out the neighbor's basement windows with a Socko paddle when excluded from a different game. I see a lot of financial retributions to neighbors in my future. Eli can get fired up like you wouldn't believe. And it really doesn't take much to set him off. Cole and I euphamistically say "Eli is passionate about life." He is either 150% happy or 150% mad. There is no neutral with Eli. My sister, Whitney, once commented, "I've never seen Eli sad. I think he only has two emotions: ecstatic or thoroughly pissed off." She hit the nail on the head with that assessment, let me tell you. Eli's temper will even throw Ian for a loop. He will look at Eli in absolute bewilderment and ask, "What's Eli doing? Is he mad? Is he being a Stinkerton?" I can only respond with, "Yes, darling. Eli is mad." What I want to say is, "I have no idea what he is doing. Call Papa and see if he can explain it to you."
And the similarities don't end there, either. If there is anyone on Earth who likes to have a good time, it's my dad, and Eli's other side, the 150% happy side, is incredible. The vast majority of the time, Eli is 150% and it makes life unbelievably wonderful. When he is 150% happy, he puts on his "Cheezeler" face. His smile is so larger that his eyes become little more than slits because his round, chubby cheeks squish them closed. When Eli is happy, there is nothing that can get in his way of having a good time. He will just roll with the punches. He LOVES to make Ian laugh. When we are in our horridly boring (no DVD player) car, Eli will make silly faces and ridiculously gross noises just to make Ian laugh. They can do that for hours, which is fortunate considering it takes a solid two hours to get from our house to Flora. He is a totally fearless wild man at home. He could climb all of the furniture before he could walk, he is CONSTANTLY getting in the toilet (disgusting), he will jump off of anything and fall face first into everything with at least 1/8 of an inch of padding. Eli completely immerses himself in anything that brings him joy. It melts my heart to watch him having fun because when he is having a good time, he is having a good time!
But the similarities still don't end there. Both of the boys are total motorheads. Holy cow, are they motorheads! As you can imagine, this thrills my dad. Both of the boys are totally obsessed with anything with wheels, most notably: trains, monster trucks, race cars, tractors, motorcycles.....you get the point.....ANYTHING with wheels! However, Eli has an absolute passion for motorcycles. He loves everything about them. I think the happiest day of Eli's life was the day he sat on a Harley for the first time. Coincidentally, this was also the most miserable day of his life because I eventually had to take him off of the Harley. This also could have been one of the most miserable days of my life considering the gigantic fit he threw in the process of said removal. He can hear one coming seconds before anyone else. He drops everything and runs to the window to watch it zoom by, and as soon as it has passed, he looks completely devastated and asks, "Motorcycle go?"
But, wait, the similarities don't end there. Eli is extremely opinionated. Yes, at 19 months this boy KNOWS what he wants. When it comes time for bed, Eli will NOT listen to a story that he doesn't feel like hearing. He will say, "No, no, no, no, no......." and shove the book until you get it out of his sight. It's the same way with songs. If you are singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" when he wants to hear "Jesus Loves the Little Children", he will yell "No! More Bible So! More Bible So!" until you get with the program and sing the right song. Eli knows exactly what he wants, when he wants it, and has no problem letting you know when you aren't cutting the mustard. My dad is the same way. If you don't want to hear the truth, then don't ask my dad. He won't go out of his way to be mean, but he is very matter of fact. It's very rare that you find someone who is honest even when you are hoping they won't be. I won't lie, but I will always put a positive spin on things, even when the situation does not warrant one.
And the similarities don't end there. My dad was an absolute master of opening Christmas gifts weeks before Christmas without leaving a trace of evidence in his wake. He could also cheat at card games without anyone having a clue he was doing it. Boy, oh boy, is Eli sneaky. Ian plods through the house sounding like a 250 lb man on the rampage, but Eli glides from room to room without making a sound. This is of course to our disadvantage because by the time you realize you haven't seen him for a while, he has managed to empty a dresser or climb something or destroy something or wreak some other type of havoc. Last night he temporarily disappeared. When Cole found him he was standing on top of the toilet applying a heavy layer of Old Spice "Denali" deodorant to his stomach. Ian and Eli are both notorious for this. Ian calls it "putting his skin on." Eli can also dig through the garbage with the stealthiness of the most trained assassin. Of course, he proudly presents to us, with a gigantic smile, the garbage he manages to extract from the can and his cover is totally blown. But all has to do is flash that oh, so toothy grin (Dr. Vicki informed me that he has two extra baby teeth, oddly enough, which totally freaks me out), and much of my irritation and frustration dissolves in an instant.
I desperately want to raise wonderful boys who grow into wonderful men, and I told Cole last night that I was going to get some books about parenting strong willed children to make sure I do things right with Eli. His strong will amazes me, but I know that if I raise him to know what is right, what is wrong, and what is expected and required of him, I will never have to worry about anyone else convincing him otherwise. He is just way too stubborn to change his mind once he has made a decision. Eli constantly looks like he is ready to get into trouble, but I know that he has a heart of gold, and he definitely doesn't want to be a bad kid. He's just so curious about the world around him he doesn't want to wait around for someone to show it to him. He wants to see it and explore it right now, and if he gets into some sticky situations along the way, then so be it. A desire to learn about everything is a wonderful thing to have.
My dad has been an excellent father, and over the past five years, even when the outlook was beyond bleak, he has been the most devoted and caring husband a woman could ever ask for. No matter how emotionally or physically exhausted he was, he never let a single need or want of my mom's or me and my sisters go unfulfilled. When he felt like he didn't have anything left to give, he asked for help from above to find more. If that isn't admirable, then I don't know what is. I always think that kids should be recognized as being their little own person and embraced for being just that. But when it comes to embracing Eli as being a shrunken version of my dad, well, I can't think of a better person to miniaturize.
No comments:
Post a Comment