Frankie Goes to Hollywood may be more famous for singing it, but I say, “RELAX” at least four hundred and eighty-seven times a day. I repeat it to Rigby about five times a day (depending on how many animals torment Rigby in the backyard), which leaves the other four hundred and eighty-two directives for Annabel.
Lately, Annabel’s gear shift is stuck in the extremely amped-up position. She’s been like this for a few months now, but James’ arrival has definitely emphasized how intense Annabel is. Her emotions and feelings are all extreme. She’s hyper or a sloth or laughing or crying or starving or on a hunger strike. I’m assuming this is normal three-year-old behavior but holy crap. I feel like I have whiplash.
Annabel directs a lot of her passion toward James, which is adorable but also, you know, terrifying. She is literally overcome with her desire to be touching and kissing him, even when Mike and I tell her to give him some space. Every morning she runs full-speed over to where I am feeding James and barks into his ear, “Ooooooooh JAMESIE!” in the craziest guttural voice – as if she is possessed by a child-sized demon. Despite me saying, “Annie, don’t touch him, he’s eating!” She manages to startle him just enough that his arms fly up and he clamps down…not fun when you’re breastfeeding.
On the rare occasions when she manages to control her hands and voice, you can see her whole body literally shaking. It’s as if the sheer effort to contain herself is almost too much.
I need to figure out a way to really drive home how gentle and non-psycho she needs to be around her brother. Especially in the face and head region! That’s a pretty important area.
“RELAX, Annabel!”…if I had a dollar for every time I’ve said that, I’d be rich.