Independence. My preschool-age son Craig strives for it.
Actually, that’s an understatement. He yells, demands, and stamps his feet to reach the milestone daily.
He doesn’t have patience with the time it takes to grow up. Every morning he looks at his reflection in the refrigerator door, stretches his arms above his head, spreads his fingers as wide as they’ll go and says, “I grow big now.”
After convincing himself he’s taller, he’ll turn – still reaching for the stars – and ask me, “Mama, I big now?”
“Yes Craig, you’re a little bit bigger now.”
“No, I BE big now.” He’ll wiggle his fingers, to show me how high they are.
I’ll pretend to be swayed. “Yes, you’re big now.”
After that I’ll tell him it’s time to get dressed for school. He’ll grab his clothes from my hands and say, “I dooo it myself.”
This is a totally different experience than I had with my teenage-son Jay. As a child he was reluctant to set out for himself. Each increment of independence took weeks, months — or sometimes years – of careful nudging, pushing and prodding.
He feared any step outside of his comfort zone. For example: It took ages to teach him how to tie his shoes. Not because he wasn’t dexterous enough, but because he was hesitant to try. It was something new and different.
At one point, when I was frustrated, I accepted Jay was committed to a lifetime of Velcro straps.
With Craig, it’s the complete opposite. My mornings getting him ready for school were about figuring out when I’m allowed to step in and help him.
“Mommy, wook. I put on my unnerare.”
“Oh …” I paused packing my lunch bag for work. “Well you have them on backwards.”
Craig looked down in surprise. “Nooooooo … I do it right.”
“No, Batman goes on your butt. You need to turn them around”
“Nuh uhhh.” He pouted, his feelings were hurt.
“OK, fine.” Who’s going to see him in his underwear anyways?
A few minutes later he got my attention again. This time it’s was with grunts, groans and foot stomps. I made the assumption he was in the living room putting his pants on – but couldn’t quite find the leg holes.
“Do you need my help?” I shouted.
“Noooooooooo. I dooooo it myself.”
I let him be. Unless he accepted my offer, I knew better than to interfere.
It wasn’t long until my patience was rewarded.
Craig appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Loook!” He threw his hands in the air. “I do it myself. See?”
“Oh yes.” Indeed, he had his entire outfit on. Shoes too (Velcro straps, thank you very much). Only, there was a slight problem.
“I do it right!” Craig smiled and looked at me for approval.
“Well …” I started to mention otherwise.
At that point he started to march around the kitchen while singing. He halted in front of the refrigerator and checked his reflection.
“I be big now.” He stretched his arms into the air again. “I did it. I be big.”
It was at that point I decided to not point out the obvious to him. You see, Craig’s pants and shirt were on backwards, his socks were inside out and his shoes were on the wrong feet. Every article of clothing, including his underwear, were on inappropriately.
That little fact didn’t bother him at all.
“See mommy, I be big.”
“Yes, you’re big now.”
Really, what else could I say?
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Genevieve Hinson is a social media coordinator for Children's Hospital Central California. She's also a writer, wife and mom to two boys and a girl. The opinions she expresses here are her own, as is her obsession for coffee.
roflmao thats my boy. bucking the norm
That is too funny, kudos to him for wanting to do things for himself
.
!!!!
I just read your post to the BF, who wonders why all kids are independent until it’s time for them to move the heck OUT!
BTW, yesterday I wore socks that didn’t match, and about three months ago, I had to rely on the guy behind me in line at Fry’s Electronics to point out that my shift was on inside out.
And I’m big now.
xoxoxo
kjh8pihlopuydf2w
He be very big!
I’ve taken to calling Boots, my 3-year-old, the Boy With The Backward Butt these days. Because no matter how hard he tries, his pants and underwear always wind up going the opposite direction from what the manufacturer intended.
And I’m not going to complain one little bit, because he’s doing at 3 what I had to harangue his brother about constantly to even try when he was closing in on 4.
Good for you for letting Craig be. I think they’ll figure it out sooner or later. And if not, well, Boy With The Backward Butt will walk through life with people not knowing whether he’s coming or going.