First of all, if I don't blog-thank the Rav knitter who sent me cookies, she will never believe that I got them. I Tweet-thanked you yesterday, but just covering my bases! They're gone already, btw. Delicious.
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Cole does not like endings. Naptime. Bedtime. Time to go home from the playground. Time to go inside. Time to take his coat/shoes off because that means we're definitely staying/going...depending on where and the situation.
So it doesn't surprise me lately that he's grown averse to movie endings. Specifically Toy Story 2 though it really started with us being forced to rewind episodes of "Roary Racing Car" so he could hear the theme song again.
He's always been a kid that seems to live and die by his emotions. He loves them. Scared was one of his first words...in a good way. He loves to be scared. And, by scared, he usually means excited. But sometimes he actually means scared. Movies are especially dramatic for this. He loves the intense chase scenes. He loves the action, the thrill, the suspense. He hates when bad guys are on the loose. He hates when characters are in trouble. Oh no, the villain is chasing the hero! What will happen?! For the record, his new favorite game is "chase" where he requests to be chased around the living room while screaming "chase" and then you catch him, pick him up, and swing him in the air.
Anyway, he's gotten to the point where he realizes that The End is near. I'm actually kinda of impressed with the little guy. It shows a certain amount of dramatic structure know-how to understand what a denouement is. It's so cute yet also so annoying. He won't let the movie end. Before it gets there, he wants "more" and makes the ASL sign for more. Then he requests it by name as "Stories." Or sometimes "Toys."
Lately, however, he has come to understand that this works not just for endings, but for any favorite part he likes. So now I've been finding us 6, 9, 12 scenes from the end and Cole wants to start at the beginning title scenes. He's a boy who likes his setup and character development, apparently.
And speaking of being a boy...
Cole cracks me up for how cliche he is sometimes. I wasn't that way. Or, at least, the parts of me that are that way have always been offset by other things. Not Cole. My gender equality sensibilities sometimes get tilted at the ways he behaves in stereotypical boy fashion. He's a little boy.
His favorite afternoon activity is standing on me, tackling me, and sometimes smacking me in the face or throwing things at me for amusement. Cute when it's the squishy ball. Not so fun when it's a plastic flashlight.
And he's loud. So loud. Screaming and running around inside. He doesn't understand his own strength, indoor voices, being gentle and calm. It's like Dennis the Menace run amok sometimes. Which brings me to my point...that it's funny and frustrating and a little weird trying to convince him to act like something he's clearly not.
Kelly pointed out a couple nights ago that our children--neither of them--are civilized. I pointed out that's our job is to civilize them! But seriously, it makes me strangely happy as a father to see the little look in his eye when he has been on an excited jaunt around the house jumping onto anything cushiony, bouncy, or otherwise able to withstand his weight...I pull him aside and ask him to please calm down, be gentle, be quiet.
He just smiles and giggles like it's the silliest thing I've ever said. Now don't even get me started on the way my daughter clings to her daddy, appeals to me for nonstop attention, and purposefully wants me to come find her when she's doing something bad.
My kids are like archetypes.