Monday –Third Night With A Bite
Dec. 27th, 2010 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
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We survived Christmas. Well, so far. Christmas is still happening this evening at my father’s house, when my stepsister and her kids come down from Fort Worth. My son will spend the night at his grandparents’ this evening along with all of his cousins, and Jeff will pick him up in the morning. I’m just praying that he doesn’t bite one of my stepsister’s kids this year, as he has each of the past two Christmases. Usually it happens as the kids (who range in age from 5 to 15) start to get energetic around 8 PM and Sweet Pea shorts out a little when someone bumps into him or fails to perceive that he no longer wants them so close. Not that they have time to perceive much of anything, since the moment between “everything is okay” and “I’m going into overload now” is so brief that science has yet to measure it exactly
I just hope he doesn’t bite the youngest child, who is 3 months younger than Sweet Pea. My stepsister’s youngest child is a cancer survivor. Cancer is a scary thing, and biting the kid who had cancer makes Sweet Pea look even worse than he already does. Even though my nephew is tough as nails (meaning he can take it) and has been blessed with a gracious and forgiving demeanor (meaning he won’t hold it against Sweet Pea), I cringe at the idea of hearing that my son has bitten him. The child who could have died is naturally a more sympathetic character than the child that has behavioral problems.
No, if someone must get bit, let it be one of the older children. Or maybe one of the adults. He almost never bites adults, though. Unless they are teachers (he seems to find PE coaches to be particularly tasty).
The idea of a night without Sweet Pea is kind of nice, expect for the worrying about getting a phone call from my stepmother saying that she has tried everything she can think of but that she’s afraid we need to come and get him because it is 2 AM and no one can sleep unless my son stops screaming. Perhaps it won’t come. After all, last year went okay. The year before that, when he was 4, he didn’t spend the night at all. That Christmas we were preparing to leave when he noticed that all of his cousins were in their pajamas and he asked why. We explained that they had traveled from far away and were staying the night at his grandparents.
He asked why he was not staying the night at his grandparents. We told him that we lived close enough that we could drive him home to his own bed. Besides, we pointed out, we hadn’t brought his pajamas. He was incredulous as he looked around at the other children dressed for a pajama party that he alone had not been invited to. Then he burst into tears and proceeded to cry the whole way home. Next year he could stay, we promised. Sweet Pea does not forget promises, either. When the next year rolled around, he remembered and reminded us of our promise. I offered to stay, too, since I was worried about what all could go wrong, but my stepmother insisted that she was sure they could handle things. And they did.
Still, someone got bit. Someone will likely get bit tonight. Christmas is all about traditions, after all. Some traditions just hurt a little more than others.
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.
.
We survived Christmas. Well, so far. Christmas is still happening this evening at my father’s house, when my stepsister and her kids come down from Fort Worth. My son will spend the night at his grandparents’ this evening along with all of his cousins, and Jeff will pick him up in the morning. I’m just praying that he doesn’t bite one of my stepsister’s kids this year, as he has each of the past two Christmases. Usually it happens as the kids (who range in age from 5 to 15) start to get energetic around 8 PM and Sweet Pea shorts out a little when someone bumps into him or fails to perceive that he no longer wants them so close. Not that they have time to perceive much of anything, since the moment between “everything is okay” and “I’m going into overload now” is so brief that science has yet to measure it exactly
I just hope he doesn’t bite the youngest child, who is 3 months younger than Sweet Pea. My stepsister’s youngest child is a cancer survivor. Cancer is a scary thing, and biting the kid who had cancer makes Sweet Pea look even worse than he already does. Even though my nephew is tough as nails (meaning he can take it) and has been blessed with a gracious and forgiving demeanor (meaning he won’t hold it against Sweet Pea), I cringe at the idea of hearing that my son has bitten him. The child who could have died is naturally a more sympathetic character than the child that has behavioral problems.
No, if someone must get bit, let it be one of the older children. Or maybe one of the adults. He almost never bites adults, though. Unless they are teachers (he seems to find PE coaches to be particularly tasty).
The idea of a night without Sweet Pea is kind of nice, expect for the worrying about getting a phone call from my stepmother saying that she has tried everything she can think of but that she’s afraid we need to come and get him because it is 2 AM and no one can sleep unless my son stops screaming. Perhaps it won’t come. After all, last year went okay. The year before that, when he was 4, he didn’t spend the night at all. That Christmas we were preparing to leave when he noticed that all of his cousins were in their pajamas and he asked why. We explained that they had traveled from far away and were staying the night at his grandparents.
He asked why he was not staying the night at his grandparents. We told him that we lived close enough that we could drive him home to his own bed. Besides, we pointed out, we hadn’t brought his pajamas. He was incredulous as he looked around at the other children dressed for a pajama party that he alone had not been invited to. Then he burst into tears and proceeded to cry the whole way home. Next year he could stay, we promised. Sweet Pea does not forget promises, either. When the next year rolled around, he remembered and reminded us of our promise. I offered to stay, too, since I was worried about what all could go wrong, but my stepmother insisted that she was sure they could handle things. And they did.
Still, someone got bit. Someone will likely get bit tonight. Christmas is all about traditions, after all. Some traditions just hurt a little more than others.
