Thursday, January 26, 2006

The One Where He Breaks My Nose

Or very damn near it because shit! that hurts! And I can't believe I forgot about that too.
In case you were unaware, toddlers and preschoolers have this great love of slamming their head square into your nose. Why?
I think the real question here is, why not?
It's fun. It makes the big people squeal. Sometimes it even makes red stuff spray everywhere. And nothing is more entertaining that watching someone hop around yelping and holding onto their nose for dear life because they are positive, POSITIVE!, that letting go would mean that their nose will fall directly to the floor and no one wants a Michael Jackson nose.
I witnessed in horror my friend's daughter smash her forehead in my friend's nose while yelling 'love bumps!' I learned a few new swear words that day. Also? Blood does not come out of beige upholstery. Also? Broken noses are not pretty.
So with knowing this, you'd think I'd also know the warning signs. Right?
I probably would. If there were any.
Tonight, I got a glimpse of what he'll be like when he hits the terrible two's. We didn't call Girl X Tornado for nothing and it looks like her 'bother' (her nickname for him) will be no different.
He had been 'petting' Cat all day. By petting I mean the thing he does when he throws himself at Cat, grabs hold and rakes his hands down Cat's back. By dinner time I figured Cat had about reached his limit (that animal has to be the most patient thing on the planet) so when I saw Boy gearing up for another round, I told him no. He looked at me, mildly shocked. With his eyes still on me, and an expression Mr X always gives me when I say something weird (um, every night), he reached his little hand out toward Cat. Cat was also looking at me like Wow, you're really going to stop this? Again, but a little bit sharper, I said 'no'.
And the heavens opened up, thunder clapped and lightening struck. A plague of locusts zoomed to our house and the water in the toilet began flushing in the opposite direction.
His face scrunched up and his hand still out as if Cat actually stuck around once he began screaming. His lower lip quivered and the sound! Windows! Shattering! Glasses! Ruined!
Right. Carried away again.
It's not like any of this is new to him. I spend much of my day telling him 'no'.
*No, don't eat the dog food.

*No, don't stick that in the fireplace.

*No, Cat doesn't like to be force fed your cheerios.

*No, you have to leave your clothes on when we're outside.

*No, don't pick your nose.

So why this particular 'no' set him off? Don't know. Eventually he calmed down enough to allow me to pick him up to soothe him. Ha!
Picking him brought on more wailing. He threw himself down on my shoulder and just wailed!
We rocked and walked and I talked (carefully avoiding the evil 'no' and also 'don't'- just in case) and he slowed to little sniffles.
He leaned back and looked at me, smiled a little as I made a silly face.


He slammed into my nose with his forehead. It was all I could do not to drop him. After I carefully slid him down to the floor, I had to run to the bathroom. I was sure he had just shattered my nose into a million pieces. I was seeing stars!

When I came back, assured that my nose was still intact, he was sitting on the floor smiling at me. I prefer to believe that he was simply happy to see me. That is what I will continue to tell myself.

In case you were wondering, it still freakin' hurts!