society rules

We have had to explain some really basic stuff to David this weekend: Don't knock on people's doors at 7:30 in the morning. Don't go outside without pants on (admittedly not a universal rule in our neighborhood). Don't go in other people's houses when they are not home. His innocent ignorance of these common concepts is both charming and disturbing.

He is entering a whole new world of socialization and freedom. He has finally hit it off with Cody, the four-year-old whose family moved in next door last year. Cody comes over and hangs out in our basement, David goes over to Cody's, and they generally want to spend every spare moment together--which is actually not a lot of time since they are four and by no means masters of their own schedules. David has also become good friends with another neighbor, Christopher, who is not quite three, but whose language and social skills finally allow for socializing. Christopher also has Transformers and the biggest Lightening McQueen in the neighborhood, which makes up for any linguistic or social shortcomings.

So now he has good friends near by and he was the freedom to play with them as much as possible. Be we all know that freedom isn't free. Well we know that. David is learning. And the lessons, they are hard.

The lessons began around 7:30 Saturday morning. In bed, half asleep, I was vaguely aware of David being up and around but didn't think much of it. He often gets up and fixes himself breakfast before we get up. Was that the front door? Nah, couldn't be. A bit later David pads into our room in his t-shirt and pull-up. He asks if one of us would go knock on Cody's door because he tried and no one answered. Though freaking-out inwardly, his mother and I try to remain calm as we explain that he cannot leave the house with neither permission nor pants.

The day then becomes a series of lessons and restrictions. The privilege of playing in a friend's house is revoked because he pitched a fit when it was time to come home. The privilege of being able to go to the park revoked because he went to the "creek" behind the park against explicit orders. The privilege to play outside altogether revoked because he then went in another friend's house without permission (which he would not have gotten). He spent the last hour before dinner sitting on the couch looking at books (more or less). For awhile I thought I would have to lock him in a box to keep him from going where he shouldn't go.

This culminated on Sunday with actual breaking-and-entering and burglary. I needed to put Simon down for a nap, leaving David alone in the front yard after reviewing the rules. I fell asleep myself, woke up an hour later, and went out to search for David. He came walking down the sidewalk I and I verified that he was staying outside. He said he had just gone in Christopher's for a minute to get some toys. Fine, just as long as he is playing outside. Then he asked if I wanted to play with him at Christopher's. I said no thank you, that he should play with Christopher himself.

Then he explained that Christopher was not home. Some confused Q&A followed and I gathered that, since no one was home at Christopher's, he simply opened the front door, gathered whatever toys he wanted to play with, and brought them outside. During our conversation, he mentioned that Cody also was not home. I noted that someone must be home because Cody's front door was standing open. Perhaps they were upstairs and didn't hear David knock. I explained that he can't get people's toys out of there house when they aren't home. Then, he and I kicked his new soccer ball around for awhile. Eventually, Cody's family's van drove into the parking lot and the entire family emerged. As Cody's father approached the front door, he was obviously perplexed that it was open. More Q&A with David from which I gather that HE opened it searching for Cody. More gentle explaining.

If no one was home at both Cody's and Christopher's home, how is they were both unlocked so David could get in? Well the doors around here are heavy and tight, so it takes extra care to make sure they are closed all the way and latched. It is possible that the front door of both homes was not latched, allowing a persistent four-year-old to push it open. He is used to struggling with our door (from both sides, apparently).

I am confident that David will learn all the new rules and responsibilities that come along with his new social abilities. I just hope he does acquire a rap sheet in the process.

Later, pants fans.

our future?

Story: Co-worker of Jaime's has a five-year-old and four-year-old (ten months apart!) in separate beds in one room. One night the five-year-old pooped his pants. Not wanting to get in trouble, he throws the poop into his younger brother's bed. So dad is awakened by indignant howls of "stop throwing turds in my bed!"

mean kids

I have always encouraged David to be friendly and outgoing. Either because of this or because he inhereted his mother's natural social exuberance, he is able to hold is own well in social situations. He is conversational and friendly with just about anyone regardless of age. I remember when he first got his tricycle last year an we were walking/riding down the sidewalk when a neighborhood boy who is a couple of years older planted himself in the middle of the sidewalk, stopping David. Enthusiastically the boy said, "I have a Spiderman scooter in my basement."

There was a pause just long enough for me to wonder to myself how David would respond to this aggressive friendliness, then he replied with equal enthusiasm, "wow!"

On the playground, I encourage him to play with other kids and if he does strike up a playground friendship, I have taught him how to introduce himself and ask the name of his playmate.

Here is my question: doesn't anyone else do this?

Many times lately I have watched out the door at a scene where David approaches a group of neighborhood kids, all of whom are either a bit older or a bit younger than David, only to be ignored at best if not treated rudely. This evening he was playing outside as I finished feeding Simon. I went to check on him. He was outside among several people. One group was Christopher, who is a year younger, with his mom. They were leaving and David was tagging along trying to strike up a conversation--probably about Buzz Lightyear. Christopher's mother was ignoring David and Christopher was simply an oblivious two-year-old. I kept thinking to myself, why doesn't she stop and help Christopher say hi to David and explain that they are leaving and that he hopes they can play later? Shortly David turned to some older boys were wrestling. He was doing that hesitant step-hop thing that someone on the outside of a social circle does as they try to interject themselves into that circle. Fortunately, one of the boys was the only socially competent child in our neighborhood--the same one with the Spiderman scooter, if memory serves. He interacted with David, sorta. He held his friend in a a full nelson and let David hit him in the stomach. It's something.

The real problem here is that, when I see David rebuffed by these kids (and their parents), I am actually seeing myself. For reasons that I have never satisfactorily determined, I was socially incompetent as child. Typically, I was picked on teased, and excluded. These are of course memories of an eight-to-twelve-year-old, not a three year old. And they are memories that I long ago deactivated in favor of the present reality in which I am quite the man about town. But when I see David treated this way, those feeling rush back. I am heartbroken and even feel a little of the shame that plagued me as a child that somehow it was my fault that other kids were mean--that maybe they were right and I was unworthy of their attention. It floods back in an instant and for an instant and my heart breaks.

I have no idea how David feels about this. Not having my life experience, I assume that he does not share my feelings. There is evidence to suggest that he is sometimes hurt. One time Christopher was rude to him out of simple two-year-old orneriness and the look on David's face was crestfallen. Other times, he seem oblivious, like when Cody, a five-year-old with anger issues, was berating him so strongly that I almost intervened just as his dad stepped in. David seemed oblivious to this. He just wanted to see Cody's new bike. But he is not going to be oblivious forever. I keep watching because I know that sometime soon, it is going to sink in. He is going to get really hurt by the way these kids treat him and then he is going to dish it right back out. He is going to be mean to Christopher or to some other new kid who moves in. Now don't get me wrong, I don't believe that this behavior has to be learned, it is the default mode--especially for children. I just wish I could see more parents trying to teach their kids a different mode.

Dreaming of dropping my son and taking care of four-year-olds

A friend asked me this week if I have dropped David yet. This is one of the most empathetic and insightful questions that I have been asked so far. The answer, of course is "no," but it is something that I think about ALL THE TIME. I try to take reasonable precautions and stay relaxed about it. I remind myself that, while dropping the baby is not good, it is not the end of the world. I am sure that many babies have been dropped and lived to tell about it if only in simple stuttering monosyllables. But I have had two horribly vivid dreams about dropping him. In the first, he fell out of his improperly fastened car seat as we were leaving the hospital. In another, he fell asleep on top of his mom and then rolled off on to the floor. Since he was born I have had frequent weird anxiety dreams, but dropping the baby dreams are certainly the worst.

Someday David will be four, which I think is my favorite age. Four-year-olds are charming. They have mastered communication well enough to carry on a conversation, but they are still as innocent as the angels. I have
recently been in the company of some four-year-olds at work. I read a story to one and then we wrestled. The other needed some help with the various stages of going to the bathroom and his mom was busy, so he asked me. He only knew me as the guy that wouldn't let him run in the gallery, but he couldn't get his pants back up and I have obviously mastered getting pants up, so it made sense to him to ask me. It was charming. Any younger, and he would have not had the skill to even try the potty without mom; any older and he will not need the help and will know not to ask strangers. It is sad. I love talking to little kids, and I really want my son to be able to talk to strangers, to feel comfortable sharing and asking for assistance, but I know that it simply is not a safe proposition. I know that sometime around age four, I will have to teach him not to talk to strangers, but I am very glad that when these little boys needed attention from someone, I was the stranger at hand.

jaime's first mother's day--jason battles dingos

I am thinking about paying my mother-in-law to live with us. Grandma Susie is packing up to return to Colorado and we shall miss her. She has taken good care of David and Jaime while I was living at the Museum, and she is great with the baby. We have gotten really spoiled--sleeping more than the average parents and dealing with a crying baby less. When he really gets going and we just don't want deal with it, we turn on the bat-signal and grandma comes to save the day (night). No more. Now we have to go for a whole week of parenting by ourselves before we move in with Jaime's mother-in-law.

We spent Jaime's first mother's day with family in Kansas City. It was a rare opportunity for four generations to be together. Company included David's second-cousin, Sam. I was remiss in not posting the news about Sammy's birth less than 48 hours before David was born. He was born to Jaime's first cousin Michelle, and her husband Cary. But I have an alibi for my neglect--namely a bill that proves I was busy at the hospital for a couple of days myself. The two babies are pretty cute together and when they are both crying, it's a lovely concert.

A story about Jaime's very first Mother's Day present:

Unbeknownst (sp?) to Jaime, I snuck off to the Mall one evening after work to get the present she told me that she wanted. I knew that she and her mom were on the West side of town at the same time that I was at Penney's. Well, I could guess that anyway. I think they spent more time in Sam's Club than at the apartment these last three weeks. However, I didn't think they had any need to go to the Mall. Just as I finished paying for her gift, I heard a baby cry. The hair on my neck stood on end and I went into hyper-alertness. That was not just some random crying baby; that was My Son. I took up my spear and headed off towards my offspring's distressed cries ready to battle dingos to save his life, if need be. I spotted him across the housewares department. Dingos didn't have him, thank God. Grandma Susie did. She saw me and I motioned for her to keep quiet as I snuck away before Jaime saw me.

I just thought it was very cool. I grew up on a rich diet of programs like "Mutual of Omaha's 'Wild Kingdom.'" Plain's grazers in Africa and momma bears in the Rockies can always distinguish the cry of their own offspring. So if a dingo goes after the calf of some Africa Gazelle, it will cry out and the mother can immediately know that something is amiss because dingos are an exclusively Australian species. So chances are the distressed calf is just crying "dingo" to get attention. I think that must be what David was doing.

other baby news

In other news from the baby world. Congratulations to our friends Justin and Jody Mathews of Kansas City for their new arrival--Asher John Mathews! A healthy baby boy. May God grant him many many years!

Also, Jaime's cousin, Michelle, who is due in early April is progressing well, we hear. She has passed a mile-marker and could be here very soon.