“I Don’t Have Time for Your Silly Problems”

We have a four year old weasel living in our home.

You break the dishwasher, you wash the dishes.

Mimi has started referring to Silas as “The Little King” because he acts like a little tyrant around the house.  What’s funny is that Silas is exactly like Mimi, it’s like raising the same child twice but in different sexes.  He’s sneaky and bossy, but he’s also occasionally affectionate and usually charming.  My mother used to say that I was “making Mimi that way” because I would snicker when she was misbehaving creatively and now I find myself indulging Silas’ sneaky ways.

Silas has an opinion.

This child demands corndogs for breakfast, but I can negotiate him down to a bagel with cream cheese (also not really breakfast food).  He sees Mimi getting a capri sun in her lunch so he cajoles until I sneak him one when the other kids aren’t looking and he hides to drink it. 

Then, of course, he brags and I receive the wrath of Mimi, “We can’t have Capri Suns at home, how come the Little King gets one?” 

To which Silas replies,  “No, I got two. This is my second one.” 

Such a little turd.

The “I’m a little turd” face.

Before the reign of the Little King, Silas earned the nickname “And Me”.  Everything the other kids did he would shout “And me!  And me!”  He demands respect as an equal, to them at least.

When I nap in the morning Silas carefully tucks me in and closes the door.  Then I hear rumbling in the pantry and the TV switched on.  He’s only allowed to watch Leapfrog so that he can learn his letters.  When I ask him about letters later the only one he knows is S.  “Like SSSSSssss Silas.”

A few weeks ago I called Si upstairs because we had to leave.  His shout from downstairs?  “I don’t have time for your silly problems.”

Si’s face is preternaturally messy, though always wearing a mischievous grin because the mess is invariably from some contraband food item.  He freaks out when I cut his nails because he uses them as weapons to scratch Mimi and Jude. 

One of my favorite features of Silas is that he doesn’t give a crap.  Girl socks?  He’ll wear ‘em, no problem.  Food?  He’ll gobble it down.  Outside play time?  Sure.  Bedtime?  No protest.

But some of the most unexpected activities trigger Si’s rebelliousness.  He resigned from neighborhood preschool for no reason whatsoever.  He would throw the most epic tantrums out on the sidewalk and I didn’t have Ms. Carol or Ms. Jackie to grab him kicking and screaming as I ran away.  Last week I dragged him into primary by his arms.  He can sure bring the noise and ferocious gnashing of teeth like a little honeybadger.

One time Silas ran away.  It was the worst 20 minutes of my life.  Hush was at home and I shouted that I was leaving Si so I could go pick up Jude at school.  This was a normal regular occurrence.  When I got back Silas had disappeared.  We looked everywhere in the house and couldn’t find him.  I had to call the police.  Finally I called up to the school where I’d just been picking up Jude, thinking maybe he had climbed in the back of the car without me noticing or something.  They said a little boy had just walked in and Hush raced to go pick him up.  He had crossed four lanes of traffic by himself and walked about 1/2 mile by himself.  I can hardly talk about it it was so unbelievably terrifying.  He knows now not to leave without me, “I not leave, Mama.”

Si is particularly excited about the new baby and enjoys watching Baby Center videos of animated babies in wombs.  He talks to the baby whom he calls “Tulip” if she’s a girl and “Chocolate” if he’s a boy.  Hopefully becoming a big brother at the ripe old age of four will help Silas learn his place in the world.