Mommy's little fascist

Oliver, having eaten all of his grapefruit and now eyeing Wesley's: "Oliver wants Wesley's grapefruit."

Wesley: No, Wesley wants Wesley's grapefruit.

Oliver: WESLEY! STOP TALKING!

Oliver and Wesley have different approaches to how they relate to their environment. Wesley likes peace and comfort. He'll give away a toy, and may likely have given away his grapefruit had we not intervened, just to keep the peace. He surveys a room for blankets, pillows, jam and candy. He likes quick sensory pleasure from soft things and sugar. He's peaceable, and makes me feel more calm and relaxed when I'm with him. He also really likes to collect similar objects and then sort them, but that's probably unrelated to my point here.

Oliver, on the other hand, likes control. He approaches a situation in terms of how he can assert domninance over it. He bosses his brothers and his parents, and explains to other people what's what. For instance, it pains him to be strapped in the carseat, unable to demand that I drive one way or another -- he'll regularly cry and wail, demanding that I turn left instead of right. Then I say, "Oliver, you can't tell mommy how to drive," which escalates the crying like you wouldn't believe!

When I went into their Sunday School room this morning, Oliver was up in front of the whole class, pressing his face into the book the teacher was reading, saying "There's Oliver" into the reflective picture in the book. Wesley - the only kid not actively participating with the group - was in the back of the room, cuddling into a teacher's lap and reading a book of his own.

I can appreciate Oliver's style, because I approach life much the same way. I love the challenge of helping him channel that power into helping others instead of taking for himself. And I love Wesley's way too -- I fell in love with a man who could help me relax, find peace, and receive comfort. What a blessing to get even more of that from my son.