Holden: Three Years, Eight Months

There are many advantages to being the big brother: You get a one-man fan club, someone to laugh at all your jokes and a built-in playmate. But Holden discovered one more plus - Mom and Dad are often distracted keeping the toddling tot of destruction safe, fed and away from the pricey electronics. This leaves the door wide open for Holden to get away with a myriad of things undetected. During dinner at a Mexican food restaurant, you can find him shoving tortilla chips quickly into his pie hole while we try to simultaneously cut food up into Riley-sized pieces and have some semblance of a conversation. This is even though he's told sternly several times no more chips until he eats some of his real food. Upon being caught, be prepared for some wide-eyes of innocence accompanied by a string of explanations. "But, but, but" he stutters.Another great example of the things that happen while Mom and Dad are distracted is hereto known as The Pumpkin Pie Incident. For their Thanksgiving re-enactment and feast at daycare, we were assigned to bring pumpkin pie and whipped cream. My first instinct was to go buy a pre-made pie and be done with it. Having never made a pumpkin pie, and not really a fan of them, I didn't know what baking one entailed. But once I learned how easy it was, I decided to do it from scratch and have Holden help.

We spent the Sunday afternoon diligently measuring, scooping and stirring. Holden was delighted to try new things like condensed milk (yum!) and pumpkin pie filling raw licked right off the spatula. We worked very hard on those pies, and we could tell they were gonna be good. We baked them, and they were beautiful. That is, until tragedy (aka Holden) struck.
As the pies cooled on the counter, we warned Holden many, many, many, many times: "Back off." "They're hot." "Stop messing around near those pies." "Be careful." "Stop swinging that oven mitt near the pies." But his little heart was so excited and so proud he couldn't keep himself away. And then, when Mom and Dad were distracted, the oven mitt slipped from his hands and landed on one of the still warm, not-yet-set pies. A shallow layer of the pie was now on the oven mitt.
I was on the telephone outside, so I didn't witness this. But I certainly heard it. Kevin yelled. Holden screamed and cried. I came back in to find pie on the mitt, Kevin pissed and Holden hysterical in his room. We let him stew in it for a bit, and then I went in. He was crying so hard, he couldn't even talk. As he gasped for air, he tried to explain what happened, but it was only coming out in little spurts. We sat there in the dark for a few minutes so he could calm down, and I could figure out how to handle this. There had to be punishment. There had to be a lesson. I had to get through to him. Where did I leave my book that explains how to do all that stuff? Oh wait, it doesn't exist.
Once he calmed down, he recounted for me what happened. He added, "But me and my friends can still eat it." Then it was my turn. I explained that he and I worked very hard to make these delicious and beautiful pies, but because he didn't listen to us and didn't stay in control of himself, they aren't as perfect as they were. They were ruined. And it doesn't matter that you can still eat it, which you can. What matters is that our hard work was tarnished a bit. I was so proud of both of us for making such wonderful pies, and now, I was disappointed. I wasn't sure he understood, so I asked him how he would feel if he spent a long time building a tall Lego castle, only to have Riley come along and pull a Lego off. The castle would still be standing, but it just wouldn't be the same. With a fresh round of tears, Holden said that would make him sad. And I knew then that he got it.
It was about a half-hour before bedtime, so we decided his punishment would be he'd have to go to bed early. He had calmed down, apologized to Dad and made it into the bathroom to brush his teeth. But then, he saw himself in the mirror. His eyes were swollen and glassy and his face kind of puffy and red. He looked like he didn't recognize himself. I said, "There's what Sad Holden looks like." He didn't like that at all, and started to cry real hard. There were a lot of tough lessons for Holden in The Pumpkin Pie Incident.
And that apparently is what growing up is all about. Experiencing, learning and moving on to the next thing. For as dramatic as he can be, Holden bounces back pretty fast, and it isn't long before he can talk about what happened with the pie "last time ago" or offer unsolicited apologies and "I love yous." For as much as he's getting away with things, he's also becoming more self-sufficient. He doesn't need us hovering over him every second ensuring he gets dressed and eats his dinner. We trust he'll do these things with minimal intervention, even if it takes a long time or it's not done quite right. But he continues to learn with every mistake, taking him one more tiny step toward independence. We can only hope that he takes with him on this journey these hard lessons: stay in control, listen to others, it never hurts to try and, above all, rifts are easily mended with a sincere apology and lots and lots of hugs.