A Kennedy Tantrum

July 5

This morning we managed to sleep until 9 am. Holy Cow! The little ones were all really tired from the last night of fireworks.

We went from breakfast to John F. Kennedy's childhood home in Brookline, MA. It was a sweet looking house in a beautiful green-blue color. It was once surrounded by green fields, though now it's part of a semi-urban street. The day was warm and sunny (the first in awhile with no rain), and I was feeling happy and optimistic. We got our admission tickets, and a sullen park service guide asked how many kids were on her tour. I suddenly had a sinking feeling, a flash of foresight.  That moment was a behind-the-scenes dropping-of-the-mask because the guide then greeted her tour group (with us following behind her) with a big cheery, but forced smile. And so the 11:00 am tour began.

It was at approximately 11:01 am that Cole lost it. We had just walked up the stairs to the front of the house. Cole had taken the alternative route as per usual, and had gone behind all of the bushes that covered the sides of the front porch. It was then that he spotted Adeline in Tom’s arms. “Carry you, Daddy!” he screamed. He knows that it is “Carry me,” but because Adeline screamed, “I carry you!” since she could speak and she gets picked up, Cole mimics her. I’m done being embarrassed about my child’s grammar. I’m now paranoid about the volume.

I dig him out of the bush. “Quiet Cole.” He continued to jump and scream and I guess he didn’t care about the 12 angry, somewhat vacant looks from the porch (the whole tour looked at him like he was an irritating, but not too disgusting rodent that should be carried off by his tail… but not by them… I mean, really, how did we manage to get an entire group without one kid-friendly person?).

The tour guide reluctantly opened the door and admitted us.  She leaned in to Tom complaining about the precious walls of the JFK house. The Kennedy’s had NINE kids for crying out loud. You just try to tell me those walls had not been touched by grubby hands before. Cole, still not held by Tom, began to shake, rather like a monkey, the railing which separated him form Kennedy’s living room. We got an evil stare. “What, is that an antique too?” I thought. George, ever the first born, began to LOUDLY lecture Cole about his shenanigans. George looked up at me for help. I told George to be quiet. Admonishing George caught Cole’s attention. Cole saw Adeline in Tom’s arms and remembered. He began to yell again. And yell. And yell.

I carried Cole out of the front door through which we had just walked. I put him in the middle of the floor of Kennedy’s front porch and let him lose it. He kicked and screamed. I sat arms length away on a bench prepared to jump any second and save him from the stairs, or from going in the front door again. He did crawl to the front door and pound on it. I briefly wondered what the tour folks were thinking as they toured the bedrooms above us.

I had decided not to scold Cole. It doesn’t work. It’s my fault he’s not getting enough time outside running.

“Are you frustrated?” “Yes!” he screamed. “Why?” “I want Daddy to pick me up, NOT Adeline.” “When you were a baby, Daddy and I carried you everywhere just like we carry Adeline.” I carried him in a sling and an Ergo until my back was almost broken. I loved that stage… feeling his little round head and curly mop of hair collapse against my chest when he fell asleep. “Now you’re a big boy. You’re strong.” “I am NOT strong. I am NOT big.”

I think Cole is really struggling with wanting to be bigger and wanting to be babied. The major blowout at the waterpark was about being too small. This one about being too big. He’s the middle child. There’s an older brother who has more information on life (about 15 month's worth) and a need to relay that information at all times. He has a very confident, strong-willed sister who does still need to be babied (but perhaps not as much as she is). Where does Cole fit in? He is drifting into the unfilled space of naughty one – the rebel. I don’t like it. It’s an easy road to go down and too easy a fit for a person as complicated as Cole. I’m not sure how to proceed.

Tom brought a screaming Adeline back out.  George had to use the bathroom. With Tom and George gone, I was unable to carry to kicking children and had to leave Cole screaming in the front yard as I carried Adeline to her car seat and ran back and grabbed Cole. I saw the next tour approaching the front of the house as I strapped Adeline in, but I couldn’t reach Cole in time. The next tour guide was trying to begin the prompt tour with a maniacal child screaming beneath her. Being a bureaurocrat, she wasn’t sure what else to do than to speak over him.

The next tour:

We got the kids something to eat at the large Kennedy museum and library, which is Boston. They were happier, though I did have to exit the movie without seeing much of it. One wall-sized photo of Bobby and JFK sharing a walk together was touching. The Kennedy household fostered competition. I’d like to know and understand more about that. It’s very contrary to the way Tom and I naturally handle things, always trying to diffuse competition.  When is competition healthy and when not? The museum was well situated on the water, but I wasn’t particularly moved by the exhibits.

Ready to be done with Presidents for the day and get to our camp site, we flew to John Adam's and his son John Quincy Adam's houses (both were Presidents) in Quincy, MA. Rather, we tried to fly. We managed to get lost again and again and again. When we did get there, the tour were full for the day. Luckily (I think) we realized we were at the Old House which John Adams bought when John Quincy Adams was already 20, so it was the childhood home of neither the father nor the son. We moved on.

The Adams’ childhood homes stand next to each other and there was only one other couple there. Thankfully there was a nice guide, and he let our kids run wild. Cole and Adeline chased each other around the sparsely furnished houses. Cole disappeared around the corner and came out without a shirt. “I am hot.” He then tried to take off his pants, but I stopped him in time.

We often turn around In the car to say something to Cole and find him naked. He takes great joy in taking everything off and throwing it up in the air.

We had hoped to make it to the Berkshires to camp, but ended up in a really, really crappy RV park that sounded great online. I lost a dollar in the laundry machine and when I told the front desk the lady said, “The boss won’t let me just give you the money back. Where’d the money go? I don’t know where it went. I’ll tell him there’s a problem with the machine.” I was stumped. 

At dusk, a group of 13 year olds began to play music. I’m not sure if there were a band or members of different bands, but they were really good. The music was great and interesting as well as the lyrics. There’s hope for the future of music!

Comments

[amy]

I am loving keeping up with the Clydes. What a long, strange trip...
Keep it coming. xo