Mom came around the corner this evening to discover Raphael, standing in the middle of her antique octagon table. One hand was on his hip and the other was held aloft as he gazed into the distance, prepared to fly away at any moment. Mom picked him up, saying, “Oh no, I don’t think so.”
“But! Ah just trying to stand on da table!”
This is his favorite refrain currently. When Tori was packing her car to leave last Thursday, Raphael snuck out the door behind her. She looked up to see him trucking off down the street. She grabbed him and hauled him back into the house, with him protesting the entire way, “But! Ah just trying to go outside!”
Over the past week I’ve heard: Ah just trying to use da keys (in the ignition of my van, thankyouverymuch)! Ah just trying to throw the glass! Ah just trying to hit da dog! Ah just trying to get up (4.5 seconds after being put in bed for the night)!
These declarations are accompanied by a look of wounded innocence. And I feel for him, I really do. The thing about Raphi is he’s not all that intentionally difficult. Ok, about half the time he’s intentionally difficult. But a good portion of the time he’s just exploring some new idea. And it’s gotta be discouraging to discover yet again, for the zillionth time in one day, that your mom does not think your new idea is a good one. Even if you really want the hammer.
Plus I feel just like him sometimes. I get an idea that I think is wonderful, and the world interferes. At times I feel like scowling and shrieking, “But! Ah just trying to read a book! Ah just trying to get everything done on my list! Ah just trying to finish this essay! Ah just trying to get a good night’s sleep!”
Oh well. It doesn’t work for Raphael, and it doesn’t work for me either.
Update on Heidi: She’s doing very nicely. She can’t handle large crowds of kids, and tends to bark somewhat manically when people come to the door, but other than that she’s a pretty good dog. And I have to admit, she’s growing on me. She likes to sit at my feet and gaze at me with undisguised devotion, and it’s hard not to warm to that. She also seems to like all the activity of our household. One of her favorite things to do with Raphael is to go out in the back yard and run along beside him. Raphael pushes his popping lawn mower toy and belly laughs while Heidi runs and barks. It’s going to be hard to send her back to my grandparents. Not for Claire (our beautiful stupid cat), who has been sulking under my bed or in the basement pretty much since Heidi arrived, but for the rest of us. She’s sleeping under my chair as I type this, and she’s awfully cute.