Do The Neighbors Get Cable?!

Today I threatened to send Alex to live with the neighbors if he goes into the baby's room again.  I have told these two boys countless times to leave that damn room alone- that room that is reserved for the baby but is in such an embarrassing state of disarray that one would assume I have three months of pregnancy left instead of closer to three weeks.  (I am technically four weeks away from 40 weeks, but I have started practicing in front of the mirror the many, tearful ways in which I will beg for my third elective induction on the very first day of week 39.  Unless I go before then, which at times seems like a distinct possibility and other times seems completely outside the realm of reality.  Go into labor at home?  Do people actually do that?)

How do you solve a problem like Alex?

The bedroom contains 84 pieces of crib that need to be somehow assembled without the aid of any sort of instruction manual.  Today, I found Alex sitting in a pile of loose screws and bolts, haphazardly tossing them around like he was making it rain dollar bills, yo.  I have found him and Andy in the room before doing horrible things- wedging their oversized preschool asses into the delicate little baby swing, yanking on the window blind cord so roughly that it somehow bent and almost broke the adjacent curtain rod, rolling around in miscellaneous baby items with little thought to the care and loving attention that one must provide to such items when they leave them on the floor in pieces, and throwing all of the unsorted baby clothes into whole new sets of unsortedness.  Get out of this room, Andy and Alex.  How many times do we have to have this conversation?  You are not allowed in this room, and that statement stands until your sister is able to verbally welcome you in.  So, like, two years or so.  And even then, maybe just leave her stuff alone.

Alex didn't like being told that he might be sent to the neighbor's house if he continues to disobey me. I was really playing on his biggest fears here, and while it was kind of a jerk move, I could only hope that it worked.  A mother's love is forever, but she may kick you to the curb if she has to tell you one more time to stop messing around.  And so that is me at my most effective but also most insensitive. I am starting to understand that our move and this impending baby are affecting Alex much more than I thought they were.  I just assumed all of these major life changes would have zero effect on him.  I don't know why I thought zero; perhaps I'm more clueless than some of you originally thought.  Or perhaps it was just easier not to really think things through from a young child's perspective with all of the stress in my own, slightly older life.  I finally kind of get it though.  Because if you're two, and your HOUSE can change, the one and only place you've ever known as HOME, then what ELSE can change?  Especially if there's a new baby on the way that you keep hearing about?  Holy hell, maybe getting shuttled over to a random neighbor's house to live out the rest of childhood really is a distinct possibility!  There's no way any sane person can actually raise three children, at least not well.

I got Alex out of the room while yelling at Chris that he needs to attend to the crib at some point soon since we're clearly only losing pieces.  (Also, the car seat, what are the odds of getting that thing wedged into my car next to two boosters?  I have a sick feeling we'll be car shopping two days after the baby's birth, signing papers for a minivan while I'm sitting on an ice pack at the dealership.  Of course, we can't afford to do that, so maybe I'll just let Andy sit on my lap while I drive.  Click!  I'll be your safety belt!  Now signal left so I can grab a sip of coffee.)  And then I reminded myself of how I vowed to be more patient and loving towards little Alex.  He's been so clingy and emotional lately, falling apart over minor inconveniences, insisting that I stay by his side, and losing it when I have to drop him off at preschool or when the baby-sitter comes before I leave for work.  The usual bribes have ceased to work.  Fruit snacks and cookies are apparently no substitution for the assurance that previously assumed constants (such as the very home you used to live in and the fact that you will always be your mother's baby) aren't going to be obliterated with some strange hammer of injustice.

Later, I assured Alex that he would NEVER go live with the neighbors.  Mommy would never do that!  But seriously, you have to stop going into the baby's room.  Of course, I could have just handled the situation the way Chris did, which was to simply lock her door.  Men.  Always so practical and slow to leap to heartless threats.  But seriously.  Let's work on getting the crib set up and maybe do a test drive with all three kid seats installed so that I know exactly how unmanageable this is all going to be.

Alex, you stay here.  I'm just going to go curl up on the neighbor's couch for a few days.