Midterm Reevaluations

24 juillet 2010 samedi

The last time I wrote expressly of the children, I had barely known them for 72 hours. Today marks the halfway point of my employment Chez les de Lannoys—27 days down, 26 to go before I return to the United States. A few notes regarding my ever-growing familiarity with ces petits monstres adorables.

Alban (still 12)
Alban is in a crisis of pre-pubescence that, for some hormonal reason, leads him to make every possible situation into a competition. Ping-pong, pool volleyball, Uno, Monopoly, flips on the trampoline, and even sickness. When his younger brother, Gauthier, came down with a throat illness a few weeks ago, Alban insisted upon asserting at least twice a meal that the last time he was sick, he was much more gravely ill than Gauthier, and he didn’t even go to the doctor. At Acrobranche, Alban chose to disregard Gauthier’s successful completion of la piste noire (the hardest high ropes course), and instead focused on the failure of his sister, Constance, to complete the course. It is, in short, an adolescent superiority complex. As of late, he doesn’t like ice cream very much, nor meat. Tomatoes are only delicious when they come from the supermarket, not the garden. He’ll eat chicken wings, but not the actual wings . . . only the drumsticks. Last week, he was fascinated by extreme body builders and smack down wrestling (he refuses to believe that it’s not real). This week, he’s been obsessed with Percy Jackson films, and he has a newfound love for the Belgian accent, following the visit of some of Eric’s (who was born in Belgium) friends from medicine school. Most of Alban’s energy as of late has been invested in perfecting his trampoline flips, and I must admit, they have significantly improved since the addition of the trampoline to the children’s palace that the house truly is. Next step . . . back flips. You can imagine my fear for his precious skull and neck . . . and my horror that something terrible should happen during the day while I’m responsible for the entertainment and protection of the children.

Constance (actually 10, but since her birthday is in September, she told me she was 11)
Constance is writing a book of animals to give as a gift to Montaine, her baby sister. Or at least she was . . . she may have lost interest when she realized the work involved. Constance likes to please people—she especially helps to set or clear the table after one of her brothers has just been reprimanded for laziness or disobedience, or when there are guests at the house. Constance is the most likely of all of the children to help me with little gifts. For example, when Cosette, the housekeeper, couldn’t come in to work because a swollen, broken toe prevented her from walking, Constance helped me make “Bon Retablissement” and “Rétablis-toi vite” cards. With Montaine, Constance immediately reverts into motherly mode. She arranges piles of pillows around Montaine’s tiny body to ensure complete safety and comfort, and she focuses all of her energy in keeping Montaine and her baby’s attention span occupied, interested, and happy. Above all, I maintain that Constance longs for female companionship. When Ambre, her best friend, is at the house, Constance is an entirely different girl. She is lively, energetic, and laughs incessantly—quite a change from the slightly perturbed attitude that she tends to adopt when she’s with her brothers.

Gauthier (9)
If I’m allowed to say it, I think Gauthier is my favorite. He truly is exceptional. He helps me set the table without me having to ask him, he takes care of his plate after he has finished eating, he sits with me at the table while I’m finishing my post-dinner yogurt long after the other children have abandoned the un-cleared table, and he reminds his siblings to clear their plates and cups after they have finished. He enforces his parents’ trampoline rules, and unlike his siblings, he is willing to compromise. In all honesty, I forget that he is 9 years old. He has a level of maturity that is not displayed in his siblings, nor in most children of his age for that matter. He adores Monopoly, and especially loves to play chess, because it is a game for two. He recognizes the potentially dangerously competitive nature of his brother, and he prefers games where Alban can’t interfere. At Acrobranche, when Constance was terrified to do la grande saute, or the Tarzan jump, he stayed with her on the treetop platform, giving her words of advice and encouragement until she worked up enough nerve to leap. Whereas Alban simply asserts his strength and superiority, Gauthier is willing to actually work to improve himself. Last week, we went on a family run around the neighborhood (Rodrigue joined on his bike). Gauthier fell behind a bit at the end (a fact that Alban constantly reminded him of afterwards), but for the next few days, he asked me every evening to go out on a run with him, making a conscious effort to improve his endurance running skills. He has a self-awareness and sense of determination that I truly admire in him.

Rodrigue (7)
Rodrigue may or may not have ADHD. He tends to repeat the expressions and actions of his siblings incessantly, without comprehension of the meaning of the words or repercussions of his behaviors. Sometimes, he’ll be inexplicably destructive—I discovered my bathroom in a disastrous state one evening, with a bucket on the floor, with piss in and around it, and Rodrigue’s shoes next to it—a signature of his infantile crime. Today at lunch, he threw the hot pad for the chicken under the trampoline and refused to go get it, simply because he apparently doesn’t like hot pads (or so he says). When he feels neglected, for example, when I’m playing Milleborne or Monopoly with the older children, he’ll tear through the game, throw the cards on the ground or in the pool, steal game pieces, and run away with them. When he feels threatened by a reprimand, he entirely shuts down, repeating “non” over and over, and will often wiggle away from punishment (if any is imposed at all), and escape. Yet when he’s in an agreeable mood, he is adorable. His current fixation is Uno—it is something that he understands and can do without too much guidance. Yesterday, while the older boys were occupied elsewhere and Constance was at Ambre’s house, I dedicated the afternoon to Rodrigue. I let him outline our schedule. In about 30 or 40 minutes, we played Uno, Milleborne, volleyball, hide and seek, freeze tag, regular tag, rearranged the courtyard furniture, and even set the table. His attention span is over in a blink, which can be exhausting. Also, he doesn’t eat meat, or vegetables, which makes satisfying his appetite and his nutritional needs extraordinarily difficult. We recently discovered that he has an enormous taste for baked potatoes, and he adores caramel flan, which, if nothing else, has calcium. I’ve been making baby steps with Rodrigue—at Acrobranche, he asked to hold my hand, and now, when I give him his packet of Uno cards, he says thank you. And sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly agreeable, he’ll apologize when he plays a +4 wild card.

Montaine (7 months)
Montaine is growing by the week. As of last week, she takes the bottle, and this week, she sits up by herself in her playpen. When she wakes up from a nap, I’ll often find her, tiny fists clutched, upright in her crib. She screams louder than any of the children, which is significant, considering the caliber of their conversations. Vanilla Haagen Daas ice cream, which she loves almost as much as her dad does, tends to calm her down. She still doesn't like peas, but zucchini is a success. And she settles down when I sing Regina, which makes me happy on many, many levels.