Father Knows Best: Snowflakes

About a month ago Aquinas, who is 4 (and a boy) had a preschool Christmas pageant.  I may have told the story before, but bear with me.  After the first song, one of the little girls waved and shouted "Hi, Mom!"  The audience laughed.  And you could see the light-bulb go on over Aquinas' head.   From that point on, in each of the lulls between songs, he would do something "silly" like shout nonsense words, wave his arms wildly, or even flipping his bottom lip with his hands (a bit unsanitary...).  We were a embarrassed. "Wouldn't want to be that kid's parents," we said.

But I get it.  I was, in many ways, that same kid.  I craved approval and attention.  Heck, I still do.  So when Aquinas earned himself the "Entertainer Of The Year" title, I was kind of OK with it.  There's some embarrassment, sure, but the upside is that I've got a kid who is constantly trying to figure out the way the world works.  He knows what he needs to do (case in point, he was one of the only kids in his class who knew all the songs and hand motions and stuff), but he also know that rules aren't always hard and fast.  Helping him figure out when that's the case - and, indeed, it is a view I heartily embrace - and when it's not will be one of my challenges with him.

The bigger challenge, I fear, will be helping him understand when it is good to please others (you sang the songs very well) and when it is not (touching your hands to your mouth and then waving them in Susie's face was inappropriate, even though people laughed when you did it).  He's going to need to learn discretion and independence.

On the other hand, there is my daughter, Aristotle.  She's 2.  While we were at this same Christmas pageant she decided that, in order to see better, she would stand in the aisle.  We were sitting towards the back.  She decided that wasn't acceptable, and started walking down the aisle to the front.  After she took a couple steps I called her back.
"Aquinas, you have to stay here."
She turned, looked at Philosofette and myself, and said,
"Me not need you guys."

She's 2, and she's already figured out she doesn't need her parents.  Frick.

With this one, we're going to have the exact opposite problem as we do with Aquinas.  I have some idea about this because Philosofette was apparently a very similarly-minded child.  And so was my sister (indeed, all of my sisters are this way).  So both parents have seen it first-hand.  We're going to have to teach her that she does need to care about what other people think - at least some of the time.  That she does have to follow some of the rules.  That they're there for her own good.  That she has to rely on others.  She's going to need to learn dependence.

I guess the point of all this - although it's far from novel - is that each child presents all sorts of new challenges.  I feel like I can help Aquinas - or at least commiserate with him as he experiences his particular lumps - since I've mostly traveled that path.  But I have no idea how I'm going to help Aristotle.  Or if she'll even let me, for that matter.  It's terrifying really.

Oh well.  Maybe we'll strike the right balance with #3.

And, as a good friend happened to tell me yesterday, "If you're trying, then you're doing it right." That's the hope at least.

12 thoughts on “Father Knows Best: Snowflakes”

  1. I never realized that our kids were so close in age (GRZ is 4 in May, OGZ is 2 in March). Your description of Philosofette reminds me of OGZ quite a bit. We frequently hear "do it myself" when she's going up the stairs or eating. The biggest tantrums occur when we disregard that statement and give her help she doesn't want, either because she'll cause herself injury or make a huge mess.

    1. Aye. If Aristotle is crying loudly, it isn't because she's hurt or afraid or anything valid; it's because she didn't get her way.

  2. Kernel, 2.5, needs attention and approval, but not in the "Hey, look at me! Are you laughing yet?" way and certainly not in front of lots of people. With Kernel, it's more like, "Daddy, want to play on carpet [family room]?" "Momma, we play blocks?" She constantly just wants to be around us and, unless she's watching Sesame Street, Finding Nemo or somesuch, we'll hear about it if we leave her alone. She's social and engaging, but not overly trusting or outgoing - especially without one of us or some other trusted person there with her. Case in point, she seems to focus her energy on her special people (Mommy/Daddy, specific friends, teachers, aunties, etc.). IF she really warms up to you, you're friends for life and we'll be asked about you constantly. If she doesn't, then you don't get much consideration.
    It carries over to other areas too, like she's pretty cautious with going up and down the stairs or getting on or off the bed/couch/step stool. She doesn't really want to try something until she's sure she can do it. Convincing her that the 8 inch step off the stool is something she can do by herself can be trying. Getting her to do anything she hasn't come up with on her own, or trying to get her to do something she has decided she won't be doing is a downright terrifying ordeal.

    1. Heh, the kernel and the trinket sound an awful lot alike, although the trinket loses her caution when it comes to the couch. She insists on climbing over the arm test onto the couch over and over until she falls to the floor.

  3. Elder Daughter craved attention, Younger Daughter shunned it. On the other hand, Elder is sort of flighty and irresponsible while Younger is focused and nearly self-sufficient. I don't know how many times I had to drag Elder out of bed to get her to school on time, but there are days when Younger is up and out the door before I'm even out of bed myself. Elder thinks she wants to go back to college in the fall, or maybe later, to be a teacher, maybe of history, but she's not sure. Younger knows where she wants to go to college next year, what her major will be , where she'll live, that she wants to study abroad at some point, where she wants to go this weekend for her birthday dinner, what she's going to wear tomorrow, what time the sun will come up every morning, et cetera, et cetera. In the arsenal of fatherhood, Elder is my scattergun and Younger is my sniper rifle.

    1. For the WGOM-comments completionist, no. Not that I recall when it was mentioned, but there was a mentioning.

      1. Aren't we all completionists?

        Yeah, it got announced a few months ago. We're due at the beginning of May, hoping it holds off a couple weeks (10 days?) to allow Philosofette to finish her finals.

  4. At the jalapeno's holiday concert, I was interested to see the range of reactions from the kids, who are ages 3-5. A few fled the risers in tears before the first song began; one girl stayed up there but covered her face with both hands for 5 minutes and then finally broke down. Meanwhile, others were calm and confident. The jalapeno seemed like he was taking it in stride, but then as soon as he saw me after the concert, he started sobbing. This is very much like me--I act like I have it all together and then as soon as I'm "off stage," the effects of the pressure hit me.

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