On Being Three (and a Science Center)

Dear John,

Saturday was a pretty typical day for you.  There was a birthday party for Danielle Hazen, but you didn't get to go because of an event on Friday (spitting at your mother is an event, not just an error).  You made the most of it and did well Saturday morning (because of the threat that you would not be allowed out of your room during your Gram's visit).  Then, having set yourself to having a good day, became absolutely adorable.

I have many, many people in my life right now trying to convince me that this is just a day in the life of a 3 year old and that this too, shall pass.  I am waiting for you to convince me by turning four and putting these random moments of insanity (really, spitting?!?, why in the world would you spit on your mother!?!) aside for more reasonable displays of irritation.

In any case, I brought home an "I Spy" bottle for you and you loved it.  It reminded you of the science center at school and in "Give a Mouse a Cookie" fashion, I gave you a bottle and you asked for a science center to go with it.

And even as I am aghast when you act out in extreme ways, I am simultaneously unimpressed when you show extreme curiosity, innovation, and intelligence.  I supposed the one may go with the other and if I am going to be blow away by your negative behaviors, I should pay closer attention to your positive ones... and you have so very many, my very, very smart boy.

I made you a Science Center right away, mostly because I could and you spent the rest of the evening engaged, by yourself, in the act of transferring fake snow from one container to another, hiding objects and finding them again, and in general, being a scientist.

the "I Spy" bottles are on the window sill, along with your non-fiction books

On the wall, I put up the chart from How Deep is the Ocean, which Mrs. Hazen bought for you.

Most of the supplies are from your sister's birthday party... when we mixed Chemical X in Professor Utonium's laboratory.

John being a scientist with his insta-snow.

I am impressed that you thought to ask for a Science Center.  I am impressed with the way you digest non-fiction books, looking through the pictures, asking for the captions to be read to you, remembering what the captions really say even a month or more later when I try to summarize to save myself some time.

I am impressed with your vocabulary and the way you explain things.  Today at the zoo, you told Mr. Hazen that your legs had sore in them and that drinking water (while sitting) made the sore go out of your legs and back into the ground.  But then when you walk around some more on the ground, the sore goes back into your legs.

I have seen you tell your sister how to do her homework... it was a page of "greater than" and "less than" and you were able to count the sets and compare them just a tiny bit quicker than she could.

I can tell you are so ready to read.  You want me to tell you signs and if there is enough of a picture, you will make a reasonable guess ("Flower Store" for a sign with a big magnolia on it) and love it when you can use environmental print ("that says 'Chick-a-lay' Mama, I read it").

In all of your Lego sets, although I have put together almost all of them, you were able, with only a small amount of fine motor help in pushing down small pieces, put together a small set that had six or seven steps to it.  You read the directions yourself and built it on your own.  The thing that keeps you from doing later sets is attention span... you are still three years old.

You really are a brilliant boy and I have to remember that the same things that make your little brain work so hard to figure out what signs say, what sea creatures are called, and whether four or six is greater, those same neurons are working furiously to figure out how to get away with things, how to establish autonomy and control, how to be three.

I guess I will have to resign myself: you are just an exceptional three year old.

Love,
Mom

Rewriting the Magic

Dear John,


Someone, or maybe it was the world in general, tried to tell me long ago that the dreams we make for ourselves as small children will be replaced by more realistic dreams as we grow.  That childhood is for play and adulthood is for work.  I was taught to enjoy my childhood while it lasted because it would be over before I knew it.  The Toys R Us commercials sang Peter Pan's song denying the inevitability of growing up and as charming as it was to say "I won't grow up!" we all knew it was a lie.  Christopher Robin leaves the Hundred Acre Wood and Wendy leaves the nursery.  Even in song, I was given the cautionary tale of Jackie Paper, who one day woke up and forgot to go to Cherry Lane.

But....

This Christmas Break I have played computer games and board games.  I have built Legos and constructed a play kitchen out of cardboard boxes and duct tape.  And in all of these endeavors, not only has your dad indulged me, he has been right there with me.  He built his own Lego creations.  He and I negotiated for turns on the computer.  We played board games with faux French accents (okay, that was over Thanksgiving).  And we still got together with some other friends and played some D&D.  I fought a Bugbear and won.  Your dad told the story and invented a new voice for some shrewd business-halfings.

Then this evening, I sat in the playroom this evening, watching some silly show about fairies and witches, contemplating playing another computer game, surrounded by Legos, listening to the sound of your dad playing some war game with his friends on XBox.


Did we forget to grow up?  Or is growing up just so very different than I thought it would be?

Either way, I wish I could go back and tell my child self to feel free to dream of being a grown-up, with her own house, with her own rules about silly things like bedtimes and desserts, who wakes up everyday on the never-ending sleepover with her best friend.  Because right now, in this moment, I am living my childhood dream and I never, not ever, dared to dream it would be this good.

Nor did I ever stop to understand that in the midst of all of this joy, I would have your childhood, and your sister's, to share in.

Love,
Mom

Kisses

Dear John,

Your sister became enamored of the "fish kiss" some time ago.  You have decided to take the specialty kisses to a whole new level.

a traditional fish kiss

a fish kiss as taught by the preschool teacher

a "pulling kiss" in which both people pull their lips back

a "school kiss" also known as blowing a kiss.. apparently the only kiss allowed at school these days

a "no teeth kiss"

a "teeth kiss"

and my favorite, "a nose kiss" which works like blowing a kiss, only you start with your fingers in your nose

Other than the two fish kisses, you made all of these up on your own and keep adding to the list as things come to your mind.

Some days, when you have power struggled with me a lot, or when you have been frustrated and unhappy, it is easy to forget that you are really a very cute, very creative, very funny little boy.

Thank you for taking the time to remind me today.

Love,
Mom

Social Stories

Dear John,

I wrote a social story today.  A social story is a first person story written to help a child process something... emotions, routines, change... whatever.

I have written many different social stories during my time as a Kindergarten teacher.  I thought this year, teaching 3rd grade, I wouldn't be writing any new social stories.

And then, for the third time in two weeks, you came home having thrown a temper tantrum in class.

So I wrote you a social story... a "When I am Angry" book for John.

 Let's hope it helps.

Love,

Mom

More About Legos

Dear John,

You are amazing!  It's not just your imagination and creativity when you play with Legos.  It's that you have the fine motor and patience to manipulate those little pieces in the first place!

 

 

 

 

 

A special thanks to your Gram for letting us play with your daddy's old Legos.  It has been such a treat for you!

Love,
Mom

John and Mama Time

Dear John,


After seeing how hard July was for us all, I made some decisions about you and the heat.  Mostly, I swore I would never again have you out in it.  So, on the actual last day of summer (well, second to last), when Aunt Jennie Sue wanted to go to Sea World, I took you to daycare.  It was kinder to us all.

But I did have a special last day of summer outing with you at Rockin River... outside in the heat, but in the cool of the pool.

 We had a wonderful time.

Partly because it was just the two of us, and you do so much better one on one.  Partly because the water was nice and cool.

And if we are being honest, partly because I had had you at daycare for a week and was feeling quite refreshed myself!

Love,
Mom

A word about July.... now that July is over

Dear John,

I have to admit that this was a hard summer for you and me.  There is something in you, sweet boy, that must know the limits of any situation.  There is something in you that loves pushing buttons.  There is something in you that takes the little brother in the backseat of the car saying, "I'm not touching you... I'm not touching you" while pocking a finger an inch from a sister's face and brings it to a whole new level.

Your dad says you are just like your Uncle Jonathan.  So I called him and he said, "Oh, yes, that's just what really smart people do!"

???

He went on to explain the joy he gets from telling increasingly offensive jokes while on watch until he finally sees where the new guy draws the line in bawdy humor.

Charming, I am sure.

I also, if I am being really honest with myself, find it impossible not to push the limits of any boss or teacher I have ever had who didn't actually bother to be "in charge" of me.  I feel badly any time I go too far, but I do feel that if someone isn't going to draw the line in the sand themselves, then they deserve to have things pushed.

So, am I shocked that you have these personality traits?  Of course, not.  Does feeling the empathy and understanding where you are coming from make it any easier to parent you?  No.

By the end of the summer, I wondered what in the world I was going to do with you.  You were so defiant and so ugly at times.  And then I put you in daycare, with wonderful "in charge" kinds of people and you have completely changed yourself around.

It makes me understand that the problem was me in a lot of ways.  I get that.  What you really needed this summer was to have me, at the first sign of trouble with you, walk away and take you home for a nap.  But we started the summer at Disney and no one is flying a grouchy toddler anywhere.  Then everywhere we went it was me and you and your sister and I didn't want to punish her.  Or we planned playdates and I didn't want to let my friends or their kids down.  Then we were in Houston and once again, taking you home was not an option.

Next summer I will know to stand my ground better, even if it means disappointing your sister that day.  Her summer would have been more enjoyable overall if you had learned early on to not be so defiant.

And honestly, your would have, too.

So what did July look like for you?

happy at the annual Fourth of July at the park... because you had popcorn

grouchy... but pretending to be a shark, so maybe you are in character?

super sweet with Gram's new kitten

refused to join the group at the Children's Museum because you were busy with gears

happy one on one with Aunt Dani in the swings

why do you look so much happier than your cousin?  could it be because you keep taking her tricycle?

bossing Grandpa around, telling him to sit on the floor with you and be in a car

grouchy at Mama's birthday celebration... this is the picture in which my bra is not showing as you try to pull at my shirt in the picture, knowing I won't stop smiling to correct you

one on one with Nana... so happy and sweet

you just loved Space Center... astronauts are big for you right now

being allowed to blow out Aunt Suzanne's candles for her birthday cake (also avoiding a meltdown)

happy one on one with Uncle Dave, again with the swinging

and this is what the summer looked like

really, take a picture already

seriously?

and now we practice taking pictures... just John... over and over again

now Mama gets the picture she wanted... sigh

a picnic at Southwestern... mostly good times... mostly because there were snacks

swimming at Elizabeth Edmiston's... before we left abruptly when you would not stop breaking to "go in only at the steps" rule

faux wedding... also fun with lots of snacks

at the Umlauf, before the car time out you had to take when you wouldn't stop picking the plants

I am sure the patterns are clear.  You do wonderfully one on one.  You are very sensitive to your blood sugar and do best with many carbolicious snack offerings.  You cannot stand the heat and become increasingly difficult the hotter you are.
It only took the entire month of July to realize all of these things.  And in August you started your daycare and that right there provided the order and structure you were craving all summer.  So really, August brought us a whole new John.

I love you grouchy and I love you defiant.  I love you angry and I love you sulky.  I love you no matter what you do.  But because I love you so much, I want you to know that I am going to continue to teach you how inappropriate all of these behaviors are so that you don't have to spend the rest of your life being a boy that only a mother could love!


Love,
Mom