Sensitivity Training

Most days, JR comes off as a rough and tumble little boy. He goes everywhere these days with his baseball glove and ball, tossing the ball high into the air as he saunters down the street. He builds frightening monsters and fighting rockets out of Legos and K'Nects. He sings scatological songs.

But every so often, he does something to remind me that he truly is a sensitive little boy.

On Wednesdays, our library stays open into the evening. So after dinner, we took a walk over to replenish our supply of books. JR loaded up on nonfiction books about ships and fighter jets. I picked up a couple mysteries for me and suggested that we also get Roald Dahl's "James and the Giant Peach" to read together, as we have not read a chapter book together (since we abandoned Harry Potter early in Book 5, jointly deciding that the 16-year-old Harry's life was a bit too much for the 5-year JR). I'd never read it but have heard the book described as a wonderful classic kids book. I did read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as a kid with my dad, and loved it.

Back at home, having finished our first water ices of the season, we snuggled on the couch and began to read Chapter 1 of "James and the Giant Peach." I read through the idyllic life on the beach of 4-year-old James, his parents' trip to London, their demise at the hands of the escaped giant rhinoceros and James' move to live with his less-than-loving aunts. JR burst into tears. "It's so sad," he sobbed. I told him that the book flap said that James was going to have wonderful adventures. He continued to sob. I skimmed silently through Chapters 2 and 3 and read to him the passage where James is given the living crystal seeds. "I can't stop thinking about him," he gulped between giant tears rolling down his little face.

He was still visibly saddened through bath time and when we settled him into bed, he instructed me "No more James and the Giant Peach." So we started in on one of JR's picks from the library - a new book about stealth fighter jets - and he settled into a comfortable sleep.

Inside Joke

JR and his friend S had a playdate at our house today. On Sundays, our house is filled with newspapers (oh let's face it, our house is ALWAYS filled with newspapers). JR and S decided they wanted me to read the comics to them. This is always a hit or miss proposition with JR as most comic strips are not written to appeal to a 4 year old's sense of humor. They took a particular liking, though, to the "Baby Blues" strip. So for the rest of the playdate I would hear the two of them taking turns dialoguing:
Kid 1: This is all your fault.
Kid 2: You're the one who duct-taped the baby to the TV!
Hysterical laughter.
Switch positions and start all over.

Playing Detective

Our 8 year old nephew wants a spy kit for Christmas. We were shopping today and looking in the toy stores for a spy kit. JR asked me to tell him what a spy kit is. I talked about hunting for clues and trying to figure them out. JR asked "Do spies go incognito?"
INCOGNITO?
"What's incognito, JR?"
"Pretending to be someone else mom."

Was my 4 year old son going incognito as an 8 year old today?

The Social Hour

At what point in our evolution did humans discover the desire for privacy around toilet habits? Was it the day Adam and Eve took the bite from the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge and discovered their nakedness? How do our primate cousins handle this issue - do they seek a private spot in the bush to relieve themselves?

Or, is it more like my house, where potty time is social time? It doesn't matter who is on the potty. JR is always there. He is ready to have a story read (we are partial to Mo Willems' classic "Time to Pee" but everything from Winnie the Pooh to the "Cars" book complete with sound effects is fair game). He is ready to discuss the intricacies of his day and his social calendar. He is primed with the latest joke "Why did the sleepy bunny throw the butter out the window?" "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

I'm starting to think that when he finally does catch on to the "Potty Time is Private Time" concept, I'm really going to be lonely in there.

Just when you think they're not listening

On most Sundays we take JR to a church that offers a really nice children's liturgy. We do this even though I'm never sure that he's getting anything out of it. He squirms, he fidgets, he refuses to sit on the carpet with the other kids and clings to my leg or buries his head in my lap. When he's not buried, he's wreaking havoc with his best buddy E, who also goes to the children's liturgy. I know E's mom is thinking evil thoughts, too, since JR just eggs on her daughter, who I'm sure is perfectly well-behaved when we're not there.
This morning, the lesson was all about how everything is temporary (moon, sun, stars, leaves, clouds) except for love, which is everywhere and eternal. The lesson was nicely done, and in the extra time before we rejoined the congregation, the teacher attempted a prayer of the faithful. Kids volunteered the stuff they wanted to pray for - a sick pet, a friend, a new train, light bulbs (yes, light bulbs). JR raised his hand. Usually, even if he screws up the courage to raise his hand, he won't volunteer anything when called upon. Today, he raised his arm. He was called upon. He spoke up. "Pray for Love." The teacher beamed. "At least someone got the message."

Later today, we were at friends for our monthly potluck dinner. JR was the only child present. The adults were debating some important topic (role of religion in social change? politics and celebrities?). JR was behind my chair, playing with his cars. His dad starts into a complicated discussion about the Big Bang Theory and time moving backwards. JR whispers to me "Mom, why did the bunny throw the alarm clock out the window?" "Why, honey?" "He wanted to see time fly."