Hi people. Nate here. I know, usually I only work on Nate’s Notes, which is hard enough at my age with my attention span. However, Momma is sick so I am filling in for her. Good thing I am such a helper. She had started something about expectations so I’ll just roll with that. Momma talks enough about expectations that I think I get it.
I’m pretty sure expectations have something to do with what is going to happen. Sometimes when whatever she is talking about doesn’t happen, she seems sad, or even angry. I guess I’m expected to eat all my food. I’m expected to listen when Momma or Daddy or anyone tells me not to touch something. Trust me on this one. I’m expected to wait my turn when Momma or Daddy are helping Lyla. I’m expected to play by myself sometimes. I hear all this a lot. Pretty much it seems like a lot is expected from me.
Then there are expectations that aren’t said…like I’m expected to help with Lyla. Someone has to make her laugh. When we are out on field adventures, I expect to have to help point things out for pictures or distract people from Momma’s embarrassing behavior, or both. I expect both. Momma expects me to take a nap. I expect her to get upset when I don’t. She knows how I feel about napping, so why does she always seem surprised and bring up disappointment???!!! And the list goes on.
When our expectations don’t happen, there are tantrums and tears (again, Momma’s not mine-pfff). Okay, maybe I cry too when I expect to play with my cars and trains all day long and I have to put them away. Momma says that she sets high expectations for me because she knows I can “rise to the occasion”. Whatever that means. She also says she expects the next few years to be tough because my head gets harder every day, and Little Lyla seems to be much the same way. Whatever that means. My head feels the same as it did yesterday; still hurts when I bonk it.
Sometimes I feel like big people get too upset about things and stuff. I try to help them out a little on this. When they expect to be somewhere at a certain time, I try not to let them get too attached to that idea…and Lyla helps. We throw in a surprise tantrum, a missing shoe, hidden car keys and a full diaper. Then Momma and Daddy have to practice their patience and learn to roll with it. They are way too serious sometimes. Once I helped Momma paint the kitchen cupboards and floor. I thought it was beautiful and would make her smile, but she frowned and gave me a speech about expecting me to leave her paints alone and what is and is NOT a toy. Sheesh. It was only paint, washable paint! We were both disappointed.
It’s weird because I don’t expect much from Momma and Daddy, or anyone. I just do what brings me joy and play in the moment. I do not worry about what is going to happen. I know I’ll always be taken care of, always be fed, always have toys, always be kept safe, always dressed and, most importantly…always loved. If I have all that, why do I need to expect anything more?