Monday, May 24, 2010
So, I’ve talked about Hurricane Jack before.
For those not familiar, Jack is my three year old. Whom I adore and love and wish I could bottle.
But he’s a fucking nightmare on legs.
Right now, this very minute, there is what appears to be, a portion of crime scene police tape at the bottom of my toilet bowl. And from what I can recall, there have been no mass murders in our street of late. This of course, has only been placed there by Jack. We are all on that toilet at some point during the day, yet the other four people in this family, to date, seem to have avoided collecting and thus, flushing, state evidence down the toilet.
Of late, my husband and I have been particularly challenged by Jacks behaviour.
I’m not sure if it started when he decided to pull a used tampon out of the toilet bowl (Note: not flushed so as not to disturb the sleeping family) and proceeded to fling it about the toilet walls, thus creating a scene Van Gogh would have happily cut off his own ear lobe to be remembered for.
Perhaps it’s because he’s been in trouble 3 times now (big trouble) for attempting to clean the toilet himself with toilet gel and toilet duck whilst jamming entire toilet rolls down the S bend for good measure. What kid doesn’t learn after the second time?
Or maybe it’s just because he let the kitten out of her room this morning because she was “prying” before anyone rose and then proceeded to scale the kitchen cupboards and get his “biatmins” (vitamins) out of the cupboard and down them. Then just to make sure there was no question he’d been out there, he drew on the chocolate leather lounge with a white oil pastel on his way back to bed.
It could be because he got into trouble at kindy for both cutting up his chair with his scissors and/or throwing a ball at the “babies”.
Or just because he’s a shit of a kid. Or is he?
Lately I’ve been told more than twice, that Jack is simply an Indigo child. What is an Indigo Child you ask? It’s a bit new agey which hey, I kind of immediately dismissed but I would certainly like a simple explanation as to why my three year old is so obviously different to my previous two children. I am still sceptical. But here goes:
"The Indigo Child is a boy or girl who displays a new and unusual set of psychological attributes, revealing a pattern of behaviour generally undocumented before. This pattern has singularly unique factors that call for parents and teachers to change their treatment and upbringing of these kids to assist them in achieving balance and harmony in their lives, and to help them avoid frustration”
Ok, so what behaviour are they talking about exactly?
~ Detect dishonesty from a mile away
~ Absolute confidence
~ They rarely need others to tell them who they are
~ Are easily frustrated with routine or ritual
~ Based activities that require no creative thought
~ They do not accept authority without explanation or choice
~ Non conformist
~ They have no trouble telling you what they need
~ May seem anti social if they are not around children like them
~ Technologically orientated
~ Empathy for others yet not for stupidity
~ Amazing memory
Although they did forget to mention how he can screw up a perfectly cracking family day, with an unscheduled meltdown in the middle of a nice meal for no particular reason.
And I have to believe that this behaviour he displays, and look, you need to spend a day with him to believe how full on this child can be, is due to an ingrained trait ingrained at birth. Because we have done nothing different than we did with his sister and his brother. And before you write and tell me “hey, he’s only three”. I know, OK. He has some amazing and beautiful qualities, but when he slapping his older brother in the face for kicks, not one hour after getting into major trouble for the exact same thing, I think I’m qualified to make the call.
Right now though, I have a crime scene to hunt down.