Aidan turned seven on Monday. He was my angel friend when I was pregnant. I dreamed of a boy with brown eyes and blonde hair (written in my pregnancy journal- just to prove it). Without ultrasound or amniocentesis proof, I was sure he was a boy. I was sure of his sweetness. I was sure of his calm wisdom. What I was not sure of, and have seen time and time again over the last seven years is his stubborn, willful, unwavering capacity to stand firm in a decision to NOT do something. Like a big horse, thirsty as ever, led to a crystal clear brook but refusing to drink the life-giving water. For example, yesterday, our sweet son was scheduled to have his second one on one karate lesson, the first of which he loved, practicing all week his blocks and horse stance beautifully. He had talked about it, the time and date of his lessons. An hour before lesson time he was asleep on the couch presumably in a post cake-snack coma exacerbated by the fact that he had broken his brand new N scale model locomotive (not mortally, though- just a flesh wound). We woke him up and he insisted that he did not want to go. When asked why, his reply; "I don't really know". I asked Tom to do his Dad thing, somehow getting Aidan to do the thing we wanted him to do without his consent. I have had many a moment of pleading bribery, threats, hissing, screaming, and crying that got us nowhere. Maybe Tom would do better.
The outcome? Bribery with a cookie, a visit next weekend to the B-17 Bomber coming to town, threats, hissing, crying and guess what.. NO KARATE LESSON. He refused. That's my boy. My sweet sweet stubborn seven year old boy.