John the Builder

Dear John,

When you grow up, you want to be a builder.  This was after a worried conversation about how you would learn to build things and whether there would be a team working with you and how you would go about finding such a team.

When you are a grown-up and a builder, we are to call you "John the Builder" or just "Builder."

This is because you will be wearing builder clothes and if we do not call you by the name "Builder" then people will just think you are dressed up for no reason.

At home, though, if it's just the family, we can call you "John."

But not if there is company.  In front of company, we must call you "Builder."

Love,
Mom

More Lego

Dear John,

You made your first really purposeful creation today.  It's Joker's Airplane and you would hold up specific pieces and tell me exactly how many more you needed of that piece for your airplane.  I was very impressed.

You are such a smart little boy!

Love,
Mama

Lego

Dear John,

You have loved Lego for some time now, but you usually get me to assemble the set and then you carefully play with it.

Later, though, I expect to be asked when you first started following Lego directions yourself.

The answer, as it turns out, is just after you turned four.

Love,
Mom

Ballet or Play?

Dear John,

We took you and your sister to see the ballet version of Snow White today and you were most disappointed!  The queen and the off-stage voice of the mirror both spoke and the dwarves moved in a jump/skip and not in fluid dance movements.  Halfway through the production, you announced (loudly), "Hey, you said this was a ballet!  This is not a ballet, this is a play!"

I found it so interesting that you would, at three, understand the distinction and I myself had wondered about the dialogue... I had never before heard a ballet include any speaking roles.

Then, after the show, when your sister was asking about your favorite character (hers was the evil queen), you said the mirror.  The mirror, your sister explained, was not a character.  We did not take the time to explain about props, however, because you immediately rebutted, "It was a character!  It talked!"

So there you go.  At the age of three, you have had enough exposure to the arts to argue the difference between a play and a ballet and know that inanimate objects can be characters.

I love you, smart boy!

Love, Mom

Setting the Stage

Dear John,

We went by Southwestern today.  I needed to take care of some things in preparation for a field trip with my students next month.  One of those things was looking at the Fine Arts Building to see what kind of art they have displayed and to make sure it is 3rd grade appropriate.  (It was.)

On our way through the Fine Arts Building, though, we saw something magical happening.  A group of people were "making a play."  (They were creating the set.)

You and your sister insisted on watching them.  We asked permission and then you sat, entranced, as a man cut foam boards to look like cement molding and a woman sponge painted faux bricks to give them depth.

That your six year old sister had the attention span for this was not surprising to me; that you did was.  In fact, we eventually left because she was bored... not because of you.

You asked about the tools and the ladders.  You wanted to know about the buildings and the props.  Why did they have a trash can?  (It was part of the street scene.)  Why was that door in the air?  (They would probably add stairs later.)

Then the man (I think he was the professor) showed you the most amazing thing ever... the building the woman was painting moved and you could see the inside!  (It was a flower shop... a little flower shop... full of horrors, I'm afraid.)

On our way out, another woman came out and the man told us she was in the show.  I recognized her as the actress who played Mouse in A Year with Frog and Toad which we saw in the fall.  So I prompted you, saying, "Can you tell her what you know?"

To which you replied, as is now our family joke, with the line from that show, "Toad looks funny in a bathing suit!"

The actress laughed!

You beamed.

I wonder if you will like the theater even more as you get older.  I noticed with The Nutcracker that you were even more enthralled by it than your sister.  I think it could be a fun outlet for your busy mind and intense emotions.

Think about it.

Love,
Mom

The Root of the Problem

Dear John,

You have continued to struggle with your temper and escalating reactions to situations.  We changed you from Children's Courtyard/Xplor back to Kid's Kottage and while things have certainly improved, they are not resolved.

You have stopped the constant pants wetting and are even dry through naps, which is nice.  You continue, however, to throw fits when you do not get your way and refuse to take time outs, running from teachers, refusing to come to them, and generally making adults track you down literally kicking and screaming.

The other day it was over a time out for jumping off of the see-saw when you were told not to.  Another day it was a time out over throwing a ball at a kid.  One day it was having to clean up.  Yesterday it was not getting to have your breakfast at home, having to wait 15 minutes until we got to school.

I wonder if it's just you being three.  I wonder if it's your strong-willed personality.  I wonder if it's a sign of intelligence.  I wonder if it's something else, something bad.

You know what the problem is, though, because you told me today.  You told me that you want to be good and make good choices, but your brain won't let you.  Your brain tells you to do bad choices.

I don't know what to say to a three year old who talks this way.

I pointed out that you are your brain and that every brain has a "child voice" and a "grown-up voice" and that we should listen to our "grown-up voices."

You could understand this idea of your brain being a kid.  You said you would like to put your brain in time out.

If only it were that easy.

But I think you do know what you are talking about.  I think the root of the problem is your brain, not your temper or your age.  I think we need to get this brain under control.

Soon.

Love,
Mom

Blood Sugar

Dear John,

Tonight, you were, once again, complaining of being thirsty and insisting you needed a water bottle in bed.

You also have been having many, many potty accidents in the last few months.

You also still refuse to eat anything that is not a carb. (With the exception of dairy... you do drink milk and eat cheese and yogurt.)

On the one hand, these are signs of a three year old striking his independence.  On the other hand, they are also signs of diabetes.

So, I took your blood sugar.  It was 250.  Which is just too high.

To be certain, I ran my own (104) and then redid yours.  It was now 170.

Hmmm.  But which reading was more accurate?  The 250 or the 170?  The 170 was still on the high side.  Your meal was, as usual, carb-o-licious, but it was two hours after your last carby-post meal snack and almost three hours from the start of dinner.

So I did what I think any reasonable mother would do.  No, I didn't let it go.  I went for a third, tie breaking prick.  And I bribed you with a brand new toy from the cabinet to get it.

Final reading?  120.  High normal.

What does it all mean?  Well, I spent some time on google and found a very, very useful article about inaccurate readings in small children.  Unlike older children and adults, small children do not necessarily wash their hands when they eat sticky things like fruit juice and fruit juice on the hands means extra undigested sugar in the blood for the prick.

In addition to your normal Cheez-Its and cheerios (and string cheese and yogurt) for dinner, you had one of your most exotic choices: kiwi.  A very juicy, sugary, sticky on the hands treat.

I am ready to call that the culprit and move on.  I think I was rubbing the kiwi juice off with each prick and that's why the levels were getting lower and although I think that 120 is the high end of normal, it still wasn't with perfectly clean hands, so there may have been some kiwi in that test as well.

But I am keeping my eye on you.  And next time, I'll wash your hands.

Love,
Mom