
I never knew how to accurately describe the personality of my oldest child until his preschool teacher told me about her son.
The contrary kid, she called him, for his tendency to resist everything that crossed his path. The moment I heard this title, I adopted it and immediately applied it to Joey. It's a perfect fit for this boy, who has spent almost six years embracing disagreement as a way of life.
Yesterday, I picked up Joey from kindergarten and told him he and his brother would play at my sister's house for the afternoon while I went to an appointment. I told him he'd get to play with his cousin on her new swing set and play his favorite motorcycle video game. Three-year-old Danny liked this plan, and was set to instantly jet to Aunt Tracy's house. Joey, however, took his typical against-the-grain approach.
"Nope, I'm not going there," he reported, even though he always has a great time at Tracy's house -- and rarely wants to leave.
Joey's sixth birthday is approaching, and he has been helping me brainstorm ideas for an extravagant pirate party. I asked him recently to help me address the envelopes for his invitations. My plan -- since his teacher says he needs to work on his writing -- was to have him write the first name of each invitee on each envelope. I told him about this
project -- he loves projects -- and he said, "Oh, no, I'm not going to do that," despite his love for writing and drawing and creating.
A pediatrician told me when Joey was just three months old and I was concerned he was not a very content baby that a child's personality is carved in stone beginning in infancy. There's no changing it, he told me, just before he advised me to find a way to cope with my not-so-easy boy. He also told me to instill in this delicate boy strategies for coping with a disposition defined by resistance. This coping thing is a work in progress for our whole family. Sometimes we do well -- when we find a balance between occasionally allowing Joey decision-making control and other times calmly disregarding his protests. Sometimes -- when we can't seem to find any sort of balance -- we don't do so well.
I watched a video of Joey last night. He was three years old and just as defiant as he is today. It makes me sad for Joey that he has spent all these years fighting the current of life. It makes me worry that his little insides will one day suffer from a lack of easiness. But I also try to see the bright side of this spirited little boy -- the side experts say may help him when he grows up and can assert himself in all sorts of scenarios.
When faced with peer pressure, Joey may simply put his foot down, say "No," and move on his merry way. He's done this once already -- when preschool classmates laughed at his toenails that were painted orange and blue. When his daddy and I asked how this made him feel, he said, "I don't care. I like my toes." Good for him, his preschool teacher -- the mother of her own contrary kid -- told me. He is very sure of himself, she said.
When my perspective on Joey's temperament is optimistic, I realize my little guy helps me stay strong. Ever since I was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago, Joey has helped me resist the tendency to feel sorry for myself and give in to weakness. He reminds me to adopt my own contrary view on cancer -- to resist the notion that cancer will limit my life possibilities. When I doubt myself, he senses it and tells me, "You can do it, mommy," and "You are tough." And just the other night, following a family dancing frenzy at his Nana's house, he told me, "I love you, babe."
I love you too, Joey. You are one heck of a contrary kid.
Note: Joey did go to his Aunt Tracy's house to play. He had a marvelous time. He did not help me address the envelopes.