Running is Quiet

I've instituted quite time during the afternoon. This is new. Ever since Daniel was born he has been unwilling to conform to a set schedule. He rarely took naps until he started going to day care a year ago. Then he would only nap there and rarely at home. And certainly not along any repeating time line. In the last year we've developed a pattern for the night time rather than a schedule. The pattern is dinner, tub time, one “Little Bear” segment on television, reading 3 books in bed, and finally laying there with him until he falls asleep. This pattern can start anywhere between 6pm and 9pm. He does look forward to it and throughly enjoys tub time.

So quite time has come about largely out of my own need for a mid-day rest. Daniel seems to be able to go all day. Certainly I can tell by late afternoon that he is tired, however he cannot be convinced of this. I realized now that I am home with him all day and keeping an active schedule with him, that in order to not get cranky myself by the time dinner rolls around and to have energy at night to do all the things I no longer get to during the day (writing this being a perfect example) I need to lay down and close my eyes for an hour between 2 and 4pm. So we now have quiet time. I put on something low key like Winnie the Pooh or Sesame Street. He doesn't have to sleep but he does have to use his quite voice and is expected to watch the movie or play quietly with his toys. He is allowed to wake me up at the end of the movie if I'm not already awake. He is surprisingly compliant with this. Sometimes he will actually snuggle up next to me on the couch and every once in a while he will fall asleep as well.

Today was not such a day. He was quite energized as 2pm approached. I, on the other hand, could barely keep my eyes open. I was clearing away his snack and going over the ground rules for quite time.

“Okay, you need to be quiet while I take a nappy, okay? I'll put on “Princess Bride” and you can play quietly with your toys, okay?”

“Mom, can I run around?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “I need you to be quiet.”

“But running is quiet, mom. Can I?” he asked again. I stopped and thought for a moment. He had a point. Running in and of itself wasn't actually noisy. Clearly I was asking him for more than simply being quiet.

“Well, I need or you to be quiet and to keep your body calm so there are no accidents while I take my nap.”

“Oh.” he replied with solemn understanding. “Running is too dangerous.” he nodded.

“Yes, running is too dangerous inside. After my nap we will go outside and you can run around then.”

“Oh, okay!” he smiled and settled into his chair for the show. “I love you so much mom.”

Too Deep - Working with Fear

Daniel has made significant progress in swim class. When we started the class 4 weeks ago, he didn't want to go in the water. He sat on the pool deck with me for most of the class and refused to put his face in the water at all. He didn't seem afraid. He just didn't seem to buy into the idea that this was a fun thing to do. Yesterday he slid himself into the pool on his belly on his own. He also delighted in blowing bubbles into the water without any encouragement. He was adamant, however, that he did not want to go underwater because the water was “too deep.”

At the end of class when it was time to do the safety jump, he froze. I had never seen this before. My son seems fearless in all he does with no idea that he could be hurt. I saw for the first time an outward consideration on his part for his own physical well being. He backed away from the pool and tried to hide behind me, his eyes wide as saucers and fixated on the pool. The teacher urged him to jump, as well as some of the other kids who jumped in to show him it was okay and them waved at him to invite him into the pool. He stood his ground. He was not going to jump. “Too deep, too deep!” he would say very quietly. I asked him if he was scared. He nodded yes, not taking his eyes off the pool. The teacher and I worked with him and found a compromise that worked for him. He sat on the edge of the pool and held the teacher's hands and scooted into the water being careful to keep his head above the water's surface. As she returned him to pool wall and he reached for it, he had a huge grin on his face and I clapped with all my heart. “I did it mom!” he yelled.

This was his first time working with the experience of fear. I want him to trust that instinct. Yes, the water is deep. Yes, it could be a dangerous situation. However, there is a way to work with that fear and create a situation where you can reduce the risk and have fun. That is what we helped Daniel to experience yesterday. I was very proud and touched that he trusted his instinct and that he trusted his swim teacher and me to lead him through that.

No More Questions - In Praise of Respecting My Son's Moments of Awe and Wonder

July 12th

A revelation this week. I resolve to allow Daniel to enjoy each new experience he has without peppering him with questions about it and thus drawing him out of the experience of awe and wonder. Awe and wonder are seed crystals of curiosity and inquiry. Allowing him to have that complete experience will do more for his future learning and understanding than any question I could pose.

I received this insight at the EcoTarium with him on Wednesday. I've noticed that despite his enthusiastic hopping up and down and darting all around that he will usually settle on one or two exhibits to focus on for a relatively long period of time. He thrills in fully investigating the exhibit, pointing out details and nuance that are quite remarkable considering his age. While toddlers may be famous for their short attention spans, he spent almost 20 minutes at the wind exhibit repeating the experiential demonstration many times himself and observing the results of the other kids. He seemed to have endless joy and marveled at the exhibit, exclaiming in full body laughs and sparking eyes his enjoyment of “the game” as he called it. He engaged the interaction of the exhibit fully. At first he was a flurry of touching, manipulating, and all the while chattering. Over time he become more intentional and finally quite refined and subtle in the interplay. His interpretation was unique. He refered to this activity as “making eggs.” I have no idea how he arrived at that considering the exhibit had nothing to do with a farm or farm animals. He was insistent, however. He was making eggs.

In contract, many children passed through the exhibit and only repeated the experiment once or twice. Time and time again the well meaning parents would ask the child questions or begin to explain the principles of the demonstration. The child's eyes would dim or roll with perhaps a touch of exasperation and the child would move on to something else. You could see that is was well intentioned on the parents part. They were doing what good engaged parents are taught to do. I myself have done that many times. However as I stood back and observed, it seemed quite artificial, not authentic dialog and the kids knew it. All the while, Daniel stayed, repeating it demo over and over, laughing and having a great time. I simply stood back and observed, responding to him with encouragement and validation. Eventually he moved on to the next exhibit and with just as much enthusiasm and confidence set about absorbing the pendulum exhibit completely.

Before you can wonder why something happens or why something is the way it is, you must first observe it and process your experience. Sometimes this happens in an instant. Other times it can take a while. Daniel was in observation mode in his exploration of the exhibits. He was awe filled and delighting in wonder. He was completely absorbed in the experience and newness of the exhibits.

I have never visited the Grand Canyon. A friend of mine related to me that upon finally arriving there, as she and her five kids filed out of the RV after a 2 hour drive through barren landscape, they all fell silent and their jaws dropped as they gazed out upon the vast scar in the earth. She said despite the large number of people on the rim, it was silent. Everyone was completely absorbed in awe and wonder, absorbed in the experience of the Canyon. I imagine they were not thinking about it, evaluating it, questioning it. That would only come later. I would imagine that curiosity would at some point be sparked and the mind would chime in with theories and reasonings. When that happened, it would take them out of the experience of the Canyon, out of the merging, out of the present, and into the mind, into their concept of the Canyon, and into the past thought forms. Maybe those that could reasonably link the three dimensional magnificence before them to one dimensional theories of to plate tectonics, geology, and theology. To think about something is not the same as its experiencing. When questions are introduced too early in the merging experience it most surely aborts the formation of the seed crystals of awe and wonder that drive the precipitation of logical, compelling, and personally meaningful questions, the source of self directed inquiry.

To put it another way, imagine finally getting to see your favorite musician in concert. For me this would be like seeing the late great Miles Davis perform “Kind of Blue” or “Sketches of Spain” live in an intimate and smoky jazz club or the original Allman Brothers Band line up perform my favorite song of all time, “Blue Sky,” at a sold-out stadium show in the summertime. You would be completely entranced, hanging on every note, every well-timed phrase. You would be in some sort or rapture. The world around you would stop and your friends around you would vanish from your immediate awareness. You would merge with the performance. All thoughts would leave your mind and you would be completely as one with the performance. You would find you couldn't stop smiling and tears would fill your eyes. Now image someone standing next to you asking a bunch of questions to which they already had the answers. How are you were enjoying the concert? What you were finding most interesting? How you think they assembled the stage? Where was the last concert? Did you remember hearing the song on the car the day before? All questions would be irrelevant to the actual experience of the concert. They wold take you out of your experience of awe and wonder and force you into your mind. Enough! If you hadn't given up trying to enjoy the concert you surely would have told this person to kindly shut up.

All it takes for Daniel to experience bliss is to play with an exhibit on the wind at the EcoTarium. When I pose questions to Daniel prematurely, that is to say when he is still in the fascination mode, it robs him of that precious experience. There will be plenty of time to reflect on the experience later.

An Emerging Routine

It seems we are developing a routine. Monday we go to swim lessons and story time at the library. Tuesday we go to see a free movie at the cinema. Wednesday we go to the EcoTarium for stories, crafts, and the animal encounter and enjoy lunch and playing at the great outdoor playground. Thursday Daniel hangs out with the babysitter while I attend some meetings for the business and community service activities with which I am involved. Friday are story time and outdoor activity at River Bend Farm. It's so great that it is based on the activities that we've tried out and what Daniel had told me he likes the best. Throw in there visiting with friends, going to the playground, and playing at the town beach and it's a pretty fun and adventurous week for both of us! Entertaining activities balanced with unstructured imagination time.

This is How We Get Dressed!

My strategy around television is always evolving. I do put time limits around it and try to use it strategically. I've been trying to push Sesame Street lately for a variety of reasons, the primary among them being that Daniel doesn't really watch it. He usually gets inspired by one of the skits within a few minutes and is off into imaginative play for the remainder of the show. It is in essence a launching pad into his own imagination.

Today I put Sesame Street on and used the time to get on-line and do some research. As I was Googling away I heard Daniel singing over and over, “This is how we get dressed! This is how we get dressed!” After a few minutes of this, he excited called to me.

“Mom, look at me! This is how we get dressed!”

I looked up. He had gotten his pajamas out of the laundry basket of clean clothes. He had put both of his legs into one leg of the bottoms, the shirt top over his head and one arm in one of the arm holes. He was struggling to find the other arm hole and the shirt was on backwards. All of this was over top of the clothes he already had on. He was so proud and beamed a huge smile of satisfaction.
I broke into a smile, careful not to laugh, and said, “Look at you, you've gotten all dressed!”
“This is how we get dressed!” he said again.
I can only imagine that this had been a skit on the show and he'd become inspired. Interestingly enough, David and I had attempted many times to teach Daniel to put on his clothes and he had not shown any interest. I guess it is true that it is all about proper inspiration!

The Lake is Closed and Shooting Stars

Monday and getting back into the routine we're creating for ourselves. Started the day off with swim lessons. Daniel is not so keen on the structure of the class, however he clearly loves the water once it is free swim. After class I presented him with the option of going back to the lake and spending the afternoon there or going to story time at the library. He chose story time. I was surprised by his response, so I asked him again several times in a few different ways. Finally he said, “We not go to the lake today 'acause' it is closed.”

“It is not closed,” I replied.

“Yes, it is closed,” he insisted. “Mom, you say 'the lake is closed' to me, okay?”

“The lake is closed,” I repeated back to him.

“We not go to the lake today 'acause' it is closed. We go to the story time.” he chimed away and was on to the next bit of chatter.

We were fortunate enough to get the last spot for the 6-week story time at the library at the town next to us. Story time found us in the basement of the public library with a handful of other children and assorted mothers, grandmothers, and babysitters. The theme for this series is outer space, which Daniel was delighted to find out when we got there. Miss Debbie read 2 books and then we sang a song and made our own shooting starts. It was interesting to observe that Daniel didn't want to use any color on his color sheet of the solar system. The other kids were using the crayons and adding all sorts of embellishments to the page. Daniel was content to use a pencil, which he was thrilled about because it had a sharp point. I asked him a few times if he'd like to add color. Perhaps orange or red. He had no interest. Again, he was very interested in the craft of creating the shooting star from the popsicle stick and adding the glue and glitter but not interested in creating a visual effect through the use of color.

After the story time was over, we went back up to the main section of the library (and thankfully out of the mustiness of the basement which set my allergies off for the rest of the day.) Daniel followed the other children over to the small children's section and was completely excited to find Mr. AND Mrs. Potato Head with a wide variety of parts. Since we didn't have anything else planned for the afternoon I found a book and read while he played for about 30 minutes. He delighted in coming up with the most ridiculous combination of body parts and showing them off to me, exclaiming, “Isn't this funny?!” or “That is so silly!” and laughing at himself. He'd throw in “I am good at this game” every now and then. It felt so good to have the flexibility to allow him to play there until he was ready to go. On the way out we stopped and said good by to the kind and heavily tattooed librarian who offered to stamp both Daniel's hands. Daniel gladly accepted and proudly displayed the designs for the rest of the afternoon.

Good in Him

July 4th

While watching a movie, Daniel was remarking on how the “sharptooth” dinosaur on “The Land Before Time” was being naughty.

“He's bad, but he has good in him. He does. He really does have some good in him.” He said it with such confidence, so earnestly.

It made my heart swell as a parent to hear that insight from my 3-year-old.