quirks.

I've been thinking a lot about behavior lately. About my son's behavior, about how my behavior comes off to and influences other people, and about the little nuances of our personality that make us tick. Quirks. I am a sandwich deconstructing, OCD organizing, coffee fanatic who spends time doing this inane things like surveys, panels, couponing and yardsaling to save money. I've embraced the crazy. It makes me who I am and I'm just fine with that.

But when it comes to facilitating development in my child, I wonder if maybe I've come off too strong or if being picky really is in his DNA. Nate is a child of extremes and his particular demands can be exhausting sometimes ... but I am exactly the same way about my own little convictions. My child would rather wear nothing or be completely bundled up. Shorts and t-shirts are a no go right now - he best change his tune before summer rolls around. He is a mini-Sheldon and has a designated 'spot' in every room...and he's not afraid to call you out if you're in it. Unlike any little boy that I've been around, Nate does not like to get dirty or, especially, wet. A drop of water means a whole new outfit and a puddle will prompt him to beg you to carry him so that his shoes don't get wet. And he is steadfast in these quirks, completely unmoving.

Just this afternoon his preschool teacher said that he had been "strong willed" this week and was having "difficulty following directions". The sugar-coated version that he's not listening. Our conversation as we got into the car from school:

Me: What's going? Ms. J. said we need to work on listening and following directions.
Nate: [audible sigh] I am stubborn.

Out of the mouth of babes! If that's not self-awareness, I'm not sure what is.

And while he has the tendency to be particular, or as I like to look at it, he knows exactly what he wants and how he wants it, Nate also has the spontaneity and off the wall sense of humor like my husband. The two of them watch superhero cartoons together ad nauseum, laughing at the characters, and try to scare me whenever possible. Nate's newest thing, which Chris swears he did not teach him, is to walk up to you, bend over, and (as I'll affectionately term it) toot in your face. Afterwards, he runs away giggling so hard that he has hiccups. Since words like "poopy butt" (ahh, gotta love the kids at preschool for that one) aren't allowed, Nate has taken to calling people "cheesy sandwich". I asked him the other day why exactly he called people that and he told me "Mom, that's a 'cause cheesy sandwiches are stinky!" Touche, little man.

And so that this post has one photo in it, here's my child who insisted on playing in the bathroom for hours the other night rather than any other room in our house...