Growing Pains?

The other day, Mal and I were leaving somewhere when I decided to have him try to buckle his own seatbelt. To say that he was not excited about this exercise would be a gross understatement. He immediately started crying and insisting, "I can't do it! You have to do it!" I assured him I'd help whenever he needed it, but just wanted to see if he could try it.

He grabbed a hold of the fastener and pulled it across his chest until the belt choked him. "See?!" he spat, "It's choking me!" "Okay," I pulled it away from his neck. "Now pull on the belt part with your right hand, THEN pull the fastener down where it needs to be." "I CAN'T DO IT! YOU HAVE TO STRAP ME IN!"

Again, I assured Mal that I would strap him in if he needed me to, and I'd check the belt for him if he did it himself. Again, he just cried and refused to make any real effort. I turned around and just sat in the driver's seat, waiting for him to calm down.

Eventually, I got the belt as far as clicking it in and asked him to push down on it to see if he could click it in place. He laid his hand on it and exerted no pressure. "It won't work!"

By then, he was just so upset, I finished up and we drove away. As we did, he wailed, "I'll never buckle my own seatbelt!" I cheerily predicted that by the time he was 7, he'd be able to do it. "No, I won't! I'll never ever do it and you'll have to do it forever!"

Malcolm has often expressed numerous times in the past two years his disdain for independence. He still hasn't cleaned up after himself when using the restroom (but, honestly, he's not ready... we still have issues with his going to do the sit-down business before he's generated some preparatory skid marks). He often has us follow him to the bathroom, when he's thinking about it. He can go alone, but then psyches himself out sometimes because he had a dream once that the toilet in what he calls "D's bathroom" bellowed, "Hello, Malcolm!" when he approached it... and he's intimidated by James's Boba Fest bathrobe in our bathroom; I think he's afraid it will magically spring to life and attack him.

Then last night when I was getting ready to go to bed, I asked Mal, who was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen table from me, if he could plug my computer in for me. Immediately, he said, "No! I can't! I'm not a big boy yet!"

However, he'll also tell us how he's "clearly an adult" because if he wants a spoonful of sugar, he can get it without assistance. (Yes, this happens. I don't tell you how to parent, you don't tell me how to parent.)

But mostly, he wants to stay little.

He cried the other day so much just at the thought of visiting Hop N' Happy, because one of his favorite bounce houses there is designated for ages 4 and under. "I hate being 5! I just want to stay 4 forever!"

In fact, before his 5th birthday, he used to say it would be the last one he had, then he'd just stay 5. He's since changed his tune a bit, I believe because he's already planned where he wants to have his parties the next two years: Urban Air for 6, and Bricks and Minifigs for 7.

Regarding literal growing pains: I think we might have 'em. Malcolm often hyperextends his knees, so wears knee braces when he's going to be jumping on a trampoline, which is the most predictable time it tends to happen (and has only occurred once or twice outside of the jump parks). But earlier this week, he was complaining of his knees hurting when we were walking around the outlet mall. And last night when he came to bed, he was in a lot of pain, as well.

I made the mistake of looking up "knee pain in kids" and, of course, there are tons of articles that go the way of "I thought my kid just had growing pains, but it was actually arthritis." I'm going to give it a couple of days and see if we need to make a doctor's appointment. He doesn't seem to have any swelling or limitation of movement, so I'm hoping it is just that his tendons and muscles are trying to catch up to his bones.

When we saw our friends at the library story-time on Wednesday, after a long holiday break, a couple of the moms commented on how they thought Mal was taller than the last time they'd seen him, so growing pains is a plausible reason for his discomfort.

And, finally, I'll leave you with a couple of funny Mal things:

1) The other day, Malcolm was looking for something that I'd just seen in his closet. I reminded him that they were in a white bag, and told him to go look for it. Later, I went in his room, and he complained that he couldn't find it. I said, "Mal, I saw it earlier today! Look for the white bag!" Malcolm opened the closet door, turned to me, and asked, "Okay, where is this {{air quotes}} 'white' 'bag' {{close quotes}} you're talking about?"

2) Last night, Mal was watching TV and asked, "Can I try one of those weird-os?" James and I exchanged confused looks, then a lightbulb went on in my head about a seasonal item I'd purchased earlier in the day. "You mean a Ding Dong?" "Yeah! That!"

So now our family calls Ding Dongs "Weird-os." Naturally.