Outsmarted - The Hives

i’m getting to the point where i realize that emerson is one of those kids. you know, those. the ones with whom you have to be as specific as possible when giving him directions or you’re in trouble. if you want him to eat more dinner, you have to tell him exactly how many bites. otherwise, if you say ‘eat more’, he’ll eat one bite and say I DID.

he’s always been this way, to a degree. he has never been ok with spur-of-the-moment decisions. you always have to tell him that in five, ten, whatever number of minutes, you’ll be doing whatever you’re doing. if it’s time to leave somewhere fun or stop doing something he loves, you have to give him notice or he’ll turn into a thrashing, crying mess.

i am not this way. i have no issue stopping on a dime and continuing in an entirely different direction. or stopping one task and starting another when necessary. i’m highly flexible and adaptable in this regard. it’s great at work, but i can also recognize that it does seem that i have add at some times. who knows? maybe i do have add. dave, though? if anyone is the poster child for the OPPOSITE of add, it’s him. he can stay focused on a task indefinitely. his focus is insane. he is totally intense about projects. me? eh. not so much. i mean, i enjoy a project, but i can stop in the middle and grab a sandwich and read a magazine and then get back to it. dave? he’ll forget to eat or drink anything occasionally when he’s involved in something like that.

so. dave loves specifics and needs them in order to survive. i don’t really care too much for specifics. ‘close enough’ is the way i see it. eh. which is why i’d be the shittiest accountant on the planet. when we had accountants in our office and they’d come to me with accruals or some shit that was a few bucks off, i’d be all are you kidding? what’s a couple dollars? close enough, right? it didn’t make me lots of accountant friends, that’s for sure.

last night is a perfect example of why emerson needs specifics. he would not go to sleep. i read him a gajillion books and lay in the bed with him for a while. he was still bouncing off the walls. i gave him a book to 'read' under his covers and told him that, under no circumstances, was he to leave his room. or else there would be CONSEQUENCES (spoken in my very best mom voice). about 45 minutes later, i walked by his room, and the lights were on. he was sitting on the floor playing with stickers. now, he didn't leave his room, so i couldn't get upset, but i realized that i'm going to have to spell out everything for him. NOT don't leave your room, but don't get out of bed or turn on the lights or play with your stickers or look out the window or ANYTHING other than sleep.

oy. dealing with one of them is tiring enough. but two? jebus. i'm going to be exhausted for, oh, the rest of my life, i think.