In the past week we have entered the world of "Why?" It's a lot less fun than I had imagined.
Well, sometimes it is fun. You may have noticed that recent posts have addressed why people get married and why tree service workers wear straps. Not only do those questions have answers, but they're entertaining, too. However, increasingly often the question "why?" leads to a dead end.
I've always enjoyed his curious, engaged, intellectually demanding queries, and I am thrilled to answer those. But today we got these questions: Why did we leave the party? (Because it was time to go home.) Why are we going home? (Because it was time to leave the party.) Why are we going home in the car? (Because it was too far to walk.) Why is it too far to walk? (Because the party was in Oakland, and we don't live in Oakland.)
I read somewhere that the relentless asking of "why?" is one way small children engage in dialog. They don't know how else to keep the conversation going, so they ask "why?" I can understand that, and I'm learning how to derail the "why" train by answering a related question, one that I actually want to answer, and one that moves the conversation in a productive direction. I've also had some success in asking him a question in return, if only to exact some pale vengeance by making Isaac answer "I don't know" himself.
But sometimes it's clear that he really does need to know why -- or at least that he doesn't understand the situation at hand, and his continued asking of "why?" means only that our answers don't do anything to lessen his confusion. This might explain why he asked "Why did Daddy stop?" at every single stop sign between our house and the party we went to today. He understands stop lights, but apparently stop signs are more puzzling.
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He also asks "Why did Daddy get a flat tire?" nearly every time he notices a truck with a spare tire mounted on the back. He also frequently asks "Why do cars break down?" and "Why do cars smell like exhaust?" I've answered these questions literally 25 times, and yet he's not satisfied.
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No, not all of his questions are vehicle-related! These are just the ones I remember right now. I guess I might be getting a little vehicle-obsessed myself.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Happy Anniversary
Today is our eighth wedding anniversary!To commemorate the formation of our family, here's a photo of us at a wedding (appropriately enough) we attended this weekend.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Round and round
A number of Isaac's disparate interests and enthusiasms came together today in a sort of toddler synchronicity. I don't know if he found it surprising to find these various elements merging, but I certainly did:
At first he painted slowly and carefully. He had four containers of paint at his easel, and he dipped into each one sequentially. He put up a blob of yellow paint. He put up a larger teal blob. He painted a green line. He painted a longer blue line. Then he started back over again with yellow. He made about seven different marks, all at the top of the page, and none of these marks touched.
Then he loosened up. He added larger areas of color to the page, and he began to push the existing paint around with vigor. He also worked with increasing speed, moving so quickly that the paint flew off the page and splattered his jeans. Then he began to move the brush in a large circle, covering most of the page, and he began to sing:
- the street sweeper in the book Night Shift, which we've been reading repeatedly for the past two weeks
- a street sweeper driving right in front of our house, which happened this morning (and which has never before happened, to my knowledge, in the six years we've lived here)
- a sudden interest in drawing at the easel, which started only last night
- the song "Wheels on the Van" in the book Punk Farm on Tour, which we've been reading repeatedly for the past two weeks
- the song "Wheels on the Bus," sung by a man with a guitar performing at Studio Grow this morning
At first he painted slowly and carefully. He had four containers of paint at his easel, and he dipped into each one sequentially. He put up a blob of yellow paint. He put up a larger teal blob. He painted a green line. He painted a longer blue line. Then he started back over again with yellow. He made about seven different marks, all at the top of the page, and none of these marks touched.
Then he loosened up. He added larger areas of color to the page, and he began to push the existing paint around with vigor. He also worked with increasing speed, moving so quickly that the paint flew off the page and splattered his jeans. Then he began to move the brush in a large circle, covering most of the page, and he began to sing:
The brush on the street sweeper goes round and round
Round and round, round and round
The brush on the street sweeper goes round and round
All over town
Hi, Grandpa!
Today I was trying to push a wheelbarrow full of compost through our back yard, and there were a variety of toys blocking my way.
I said, "Isaac, would you please move your golf club out of the way?"
He studied the ground carefully, and eventually said, "I don't see any golf club."
I said impatiently, "So what's that red plastic thing right there?"
He said patiently, "It's a putter."
- - - - -
Well, he likes to be precise.
I said, "Isaac, would you please move your golf club out of the way?"
He studied the ground carefully, and eventually said, "I don't see any golf club."
I said impatiently, "So what's that red plastic thing right there?"
He said patiently, "It's a putter."
- - - - -
Well, he likes to be precise.
Structured activity
On Monday, Isaac will be starting a new class -- we'll be taking Music Together once a week for the next ten weeks.
It's been a long time since he's been enrolled in a structured activity. In fact, he's only ever taken two classes, which is extremely unusual for his peer group. Some of the kids he plays with are in preschool already, but even those who aren't in school take classes: art, music, sports, foreign language, science, and so forth. And now we're joining the trend.
Right before Isaac turned one year old, we tried a Kindermusik class, but I didn't like the songs and Isaac didn't seem impressed either, so after our nine classes were up, we didn't enroll again. Then when he was 16 months old, shortly after he learned to walk, he took Kindergym through our local community center. He liked that better, so we stayed with it for about six months. There was no instruction, so he didn't learn any gymnastics -- it was just free play in a kiddie-gym environment, which was fine during the rainy season, but when summer started I couldn't see the point of not playing outside instead.
So that's what we've been doing since last May, when we quit Kindergym -- for nearly a year we've just been hanging out and doing our own thing. In addition to pursuing our own interests (which means doing a lot of gardening!), we belong to two separate playgroups, so we have standing engagements to get together with friends two mornings a week. Both playgroups are informal groups, however, not structured like a class would be. This past week we went to Studio Grow with one playgroup, and took the ferry to have lunch in San Francisco with the other. The week before that, we went to two different parks. Life is good.
I'm mostly hoping the music class has good songs, and that it encourages Isaac's existing interest in singing and playing simple instruments. But I'm also hoping it will help him to feel more comfortable participating in a group. I've noticed that he seems overwhelmed in boisterous surroundings, and he prefers to quietly observe, often from the safety of my lap. For instance, even though he loves to sing, he really didn't enjoy the music time at Studio Grow this week, and he didn't relax enough to sing until later, when he was on his own. Maybe this is just his temperament, and nothing will change it, and that's fine too. But I want to give him a chance to learn to enjoy a group musical experience, and regularly attending a class seems the best way to do that right now.
But if he hates it, then we'll quit after the session is over, and we'll go back to playing duets in our own living room. Two days ago we sang "Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night" together, and I played the autoharp while Isaac accompanied me on the cymbals. Life, as I said, is good.
It's been a long time since he's been enrolled in a structured activity. In fact, he's only ever taken two classes, which is extremely unusual for his peer group. Some of the kids he plays with are in preschool already, but even those who aren't in school take classes: art, music, sports, foreign language, science, and so forth. And now we're joining the trend.
Right before Isaac turned one year old, we tried a Kindermusik class, but I didn't like the songs and Isaac didn't seem impressed either, so after our nine classes were up, we didn't enroll again. Then when he was 16 months old, shortly after he learned to walk, he took Kindergym through our local community center. He liked that better, so we stayed with it for about six months. There was no instruction, so he didn't learn any gymnastics -- it was just free play in a kiddie-gym environment, which was fine during the rainy season, but when summer started I couldn't see the point of not playing outside instead.
So that's what we've been doing since last May, when we quit Kindergym -- for nearly a year we've just been hanging out and doing our own thing. In addition to pursuing our own interests (which means doing a lot of gardening!), we belong to two separate playgroups, so we have standing engagements to get together with friends two mornings a week. Both playgroups are informal groups, however, not structured like a class would be. This past week we went to Studio Grow with one playgroup, and took the ferry to have lunch in San Francisco with the other. The week before that, we went to two different parks. Life is good.
I'm mostly hoping the music class has good songs, and that it encourages Isaac's existing interest in singing and playing simple instruments. But I'm also hoping it will help him to feel more comfortable participating in a group. I've noticed that he seems overwhelmed in boisterous surroundings, and he prefers to quietly observe, often from the safety of my lap. For instance, even though he loves to sing, he really didn't enjoy the music time at Studio Grow this week, and he didn't relax enough to sing until later, when he was on his own. Maybe this is just his temperament, and nothing will change it, and that's fine too. But I want to give him a chance to learn to enjoy a group musical experience, and regularly attending a class seems the best way to do that right now.
But if he hates it, then we'll quit after the session is over, and we'll go back to playing duets in our own living room. Two days ago we sang "Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night" together, and I played the autoharp while Isaac accompanied me on the cymbals. Life, as I said, is good.
Positive thinker
The other day we were driving on the freeway, and as we negotiated a usually congested interchange, Isaac noticed there were very few cars.
"Hey, there's no traffic!" he said.
"Yeah, it's much nicer this way," I said.
"Mama, even when there is traffic, it's still nice," he said.
- - - - -
Isaac said a similar thing about the flowers that Craig brought me for our anniversary.
I noted that the bouquet still looked nice, although the petals were getting close to dropping off. Isaac said, "Even when the petals fall off, they're still nice."
"Hey, there's no traffic!" he said.
"Yeah, it's much nicer this way," I said.
"Mama, even when there is traffic, it's still nice," he said.
- - - - -
Isaac said a similar thing about the flowers that Craig brought me for our anniversary.
I noted that the bouquet still looked nice, although the petals were getting close to dropping off. Isaac said, "Even when the petals fall off, they're still nice."
Imaginary play
Imaginary play has taken over.
Sure, Isaac's play has always involved imagination. There's imitative play, when he pretends to cook or clean; there's symbolic play, when he builds with blocks or drives little vehicles; and there's role-playing, when he'll announce we're both kittens cuddled together in a hayloft.
But the role-playing has intensified in the last few weeks. In the course of 30 minutes, Isaac will assume a dozen different roles (usually announcing the arrival and departure of each): tree service guy, nurse, doctor, bus driver, a mischievous boy named Matt, Loader Driver, a deer walking past, Loopy the dog, construction worker, my daddy, a baby, and a cow about to eat the lawn. (And there are more!)
This type of play usually happens while we're outside, which means he's doing it while I'm pulling weeds, or spreading a wheelbarrow full of mulch, or fertilizing plants, or building a retaining wall. He sometimes works right alongside me (he's a good weed-puller), but of course he's always playing as he works, and he frequently gets caught up in his latest role.
A few of these roles are old favorites (Loader Driver and Loopy), and some are brand-new. Many are based on Isaac's real-world experiences, and a few come from books (although in the book Matt is very helpful, so I don't know why he's such a pain in the neck in Isaac's interpretation). Some require props (the nurse likes to jab me with a pine-needle syringe), but most of them are purely mental exercises. To be a deer walking past, all he needs to do is announce that he's a deer, and then he starts rustling around in the bushes, trying to startle me.
He doesn't seem to need me to play with him to enjoy these games, so I admit I don't physically participate unless asked to do so. And he really has to insist, as when the bus driver demands that I get on the bus (that is, sit down on the swinging bench next to him). I'm not totally ignoring him, though, as I'm usually participating verbally, whether acting out my role in the game or asking him questions to keep the game going. I'm pretty sure he'd like me to be more involved, though.
I'm proud of his imagination, and I feel like it's good for him to be able to play so successfully on his own, but sometimes I do feel guilty. After he's gone to bed at night these days, I find myself wondering if I played enough with him during the day. Sure, my garden looks great, but am I missing out on something even better?
Especially because I've just been talking about how perfect he is lately!
Sure, Isaac's play has always involved imagination. There's imitative play, when he pretends to cook or clean; there's symbolic play, when he builds with blocks or drives little vehicles; and there's role-playing, when he'll announce we're both kittens cuddled together in a hayloft.
But the role-playing has intensified in the last few weeks. In the course of 30 minutes, Isaac will assume a dozen different roles (usually announcing the arrival and departure of each): tree service guy, nurse, doctor, bus driver, a mischievous boy named Matt, Loader Driver, a deer walking past, Loopy the dog, construction worker, my daddy, a baby, and a cow about to eat the lawn. (And there are more!)
This type of play usually happens while we're outside, which means he's doing it while I'm pulling weeds, or spreading a wheelbarrow full of mulch, or fertilizing plants, or building a retaining wall. He sometimes works right alongside me (he's a good weed-puller), but of course he's always playing as he works, and he frequently gets caught up in his latest role.
A few of these roles are old favorites (Loader Driver and Loopy), and some are brand-new. Many are based on Isaac's real-world experiences, and a few come from books (although in the book Matt is very helpful, so I don't know why he's such a pain in the neck in Isaac's interpretation). Some require props (the nurse likes to jab me with a pine-needle syringe), but most of them are purely mental exercises. To be a deer walking past, all he needs to do is announce that he's a deer, and then he starts rustling around in the bushes, trying to startle me.
He doesn't seem to need me to play with him to enjoy these games, so I admit I don't physically participate unless asked to do so. And he really has to insist, as when the bus driver demands that I get on the bus (that is, sit down on the swinging bench next to him). I'm not totally ignoring him, though, as I'm usually participating verbally, whether acting out my role in the game or asking him questions to keep the game going. I'm pretty sure he'd like me to be more involved, though.
I'm proud of his imagination, and I feel like it's good for him to be able to play so successfully on his own, but sometimes I do feel guilty. After he's gone to bed at night these days, I find myself wondering if I played enough with him during the day. Sure, my garden looks great, but am I missing out on something even better?
Especially because I've just been talking about how perfect he is lately!
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