Felix is not a saint. But sometimes I wonder...
Felix can be a loud, boisterous, inconsiderate, dictatorial, self-centred three-year-old like any other.
But then sometimes, he's so quiet and pensive. Sometimes, he's so shy. Sometimes, he's so overflowing with hugs and love and cuddles and gentleness and kindness. And sometimes, he's - wait for it - self-effacing. I don't know, not knowing any other three-year-olds, if this is normal?
On a routine shopping trip we passed the toy shop. We spent a bit of time in front of the store window, ogling, and sliding on the slide parked outside the shop. Felix saw a big yellow helicopter that he was obviously fascinated by. But we had come to the toy shop just for nappy bin bags. "Can we take this one home?", Felix had asked, earlier, referring to another small toy, and I'd said, "No, my boy, we have lots of cars at home. Today is just for buying nappy bags."
We left the shop, Felix taking a last look at the helicopter in the display window. He said, "Mm. Yes. We're going home. I don't want that helicopter."
What? I stopped, crouched down, said, "Felix, I think you really like that helicopter a lot." Well, that was all he needed. His whole face lit up. "Yes," he immediately agreed. "I do."
"You would actually like to have it," I continued, with a faint sense of painting myself into a corner because I had already said we were not buying any toys today. But I really felt that I wanted to tell Felix that I had seen how much he loved the toy, and that I could tell he wanted it. I know he was probably telling himself more than me that he didn't want that helicopter. But the self-denial... it was too much! I couldn't cope!
"Yes!" said Felix, and you could see that he thought we were now going to buy the heli.
I had to tread carefully here.
"That helicopter," I said, "costs a lot of money. We don't have enough money with us to buy it. We can go home and think of ways to make the money to buy that helicopter." (I was thinking, chores...)
The making money lesson went right over his head, obviously. I had aimed too high. But Felix possibly formed some vague notion of having to wait a bit and achieve something in order to obtain this helicopter. Something involving negotiations with Daddy, which I think turned the helicopter into something even more desirable in his little head.
Sean thinks I am evil and crafty but I call it utilitarian. An idea occurred to me. I want Felix to stop using nappies. Felix wants the helicopter. Why not put two and two together and get... underpants?
I put the idea to Felix. If he wore underpants (all weekend), we could go on Sunday to the shop and buy the helicopter. It was a lot of money, we said, but we didn't have to buy nappies so we now had that money left for the helicopter.
Felix wore underpants all weekend. Sunday morning we went on a special trip to buy the helicopter.
To say that Felix is enamoured with the helicopter is an understatement. He spent an actual full 5 minutes showing Queeny what it does and how it works on Monday.
He agreed - very reluctantly - to go to school wearing underpants because he'd scored a Big Boy helicopter.
We've had a few desperate tears over the underpants issue, but I am putting my foot down. The underpants go on, even though he does not like them. That was the deal we made and I am sticking to it. (In three short days, just like when we did sleep training with him, I imagine Felix will act like he never knew anything but underpants.)
At school, everyone made a huge fuss of Felix and he came home Monday afternoon on the crest of a wave of praise and positive affirmation. He was so happy! It was just beautiful to see.
Because it was his first day of going to school with underpants on, I walked hi to his classroom so I could ask the teacher and the assistants to keep a special eye on him and take him to the loo often to try to avoid an accident because
OH MY WORD
interruption to explain about the accidents. Felix made a wee at home on the floor while he was wearing underpants. He freaked out completely. I am talking ugly crying. It was like hot shame and humiliation and no matter how much Sean and I tried to act like it was No Big Deal it clearly was in his mind. We couldn't talk him down. And sure enough, after that Felix explained to me he didn't like underpants because they 'make my wee come'. Afternoons at home are spent with no clothes on at all for that reason. He'll lose the nappy happily, but he'll fight me about the undies...
... anyhow, so there I was in the classroom with Felix who had sobbed all the way to school, tearing my already shredded heart into smaller and smaller pieces. Luckily I am reminded every time I am there that his school is a Very Nice Place because the minute he's inside, with his friends and his familiar spaces and faces, he's happy. So I chatted a bit, then said, "Okay, Felix, see you later. I'm going now."
Almost too fast, before his voice caught, Felix said, "Bye Mommy!" a little too brightly, a little too loudly. Then the corners of his mouth turned down as he tried to suppress the tears that were threatening.
I turned and left, because doing anything else would have been the wrong thing to do.
Everything inside me, every instinct to protect, all the love I carry in my heart for that brave little soul, protested. But I went.
It sounds so trivial, especially if you're not a parent. Before I was one, I would have read this story and shrugged. So the kid says goodbye to his mom, gets a little water in his eye. It's hardly poverty and orphanages, is it?
Instead, I cry, and love him even a little more.
My Felix. I love you so very, very much.
Felix can be a loud, boisterous, inconsiderate, dictatorial, self-centred three-year-old like any other.
But then sometimes, he's so quiet and pensive. Sometimes, he's so shy. Sometimes, he's so overflowing with hugs and love and cuddles and gentleness and kindness. And sometimes, he's - wait for it - self-effacing. I don't know, not knowing any other three-year-olds, if this is normal?
On a routine shopping trip we passed the toy shop. We spent a bit of time in front of the store window, ogling, and sliding on the slide parked outside the shop. Felix saw a big yellow helicopter that he was obviously fascinated by. But we had come to the toy shop just for nappy bin bags. "Can we take this one home?", Felix had asked, earlier, referring to another small toy, and I'd said, "No, my boy, we have lots of cars at home. Today is just for buying nappy bags."
We left the shop, Felix taking a last look at the helicopter in the display window. He said, "Mm. Yes. We're going home. I don't want that helicopter."
What? I stopped, crouched down, said, "Felix, I think you really like that helicopter a lot." Well, that was all he needed. His whole face lit up. "Yes," he immediately agreed. "I do."
"You would actually like to have it," I continued, with a faint sense of painting myself into a corner because I had already said we were not buying any toys today. But I really felt that I wanted to tell Felix that I had seen how much he loved the toy, and that I could tell he wanted it. I know he was probably telling himself more than me that he didn't want that helicopter. But the self-denial... it was too much! I couldn't cope!
"Yes!" said Felix, and you could see that he thought we were now going to buy the heli.
I had to tread carefully here.
"That helicopter," I said, "costs a lot of money. We don't have enough money with us to buy it. We can go home and think of ways to make the money to buy that helicopter." (I was thinking, chores...)
The making money lesson went right over his head, obviously. I had aimed too high. But Felix possibly formed some vague notion of having to wait a bit and achieve something in order to obtain this helicopter. Something involving negotiations with Daddy, which I think turned the helicopter into something even more desirable in his little head.
Sean thinks I am evil and crafty but I call it utilitarian. An idea occurred to me. I want Felix to stop using nappies. Felix wants the helicopter. Why not put two and two together and get... underpants?
I put the idea to Felix. If he wore underpants (all weekend), we could go on Sunday to the shop and buy the helicopter. It was a lot of money, we said, but we didn't have to buy nappies so we now had that money left for the helicopter.
Felix wore underpants all weekend. Sunday morning we went on a special trip to buy the helicopter.
To say that Felix is enamoured with the helicopter is an understatement. He spent an actual full 5 minutes showing Queeny what it does and how it works on Monday.
He agreed - very reluctantly - to go to school wearing underpants because he'd scored a Big Boy helicopter.
We've had a few desperate tears over the underpants issue, but I am putting my foot down. The underpants go on, even though he does not like them. That was the deal we made and I am sticking to it. (In three short days, just like when we did sleep training with him, I imagine Felix will act like he never knew anything but underpants.)
At school, everyone made a huge fuss of Felix and he came home Monday afternoon on the crest of a wave of praise and positive affirmation. He was so happy! It was just beautiful to see.
Because it was his first day of going to school with underpants on, I walked hi to his classroom so I could ask the teacher and the assistants to keep a special eye on him and take him to the loo often to try to avoid an accident because
OH MY WORD
interruption to explain about the accidents. Felix made a wee at home on the floor while he was wearing underpants. He freaked out completely. I am talking ugly crying. It was like hot shame and humiliation and no matter how much Sean and I tried to act like it was No Big Deal it clearly was in his mind. We couldn't talk him down. And sure enough, after that Felix explained to me he didn't like underpants because they 'make my wee come'. Afternoons at home are spent with no clothes on at all for that reason. He'll lose the nappy happily, but he'll fight me about the undies...
... anyhow, so there I was in the classroom with Felix who had sobbed all the way to school, tearing my already shredded heart into smaller and smaller pieces. Luckily I am reminded every time I am there that his school is a Very Nice Place because the minute he's inside, with his friends and his familiar spaces and faces, he's happy. So I chatted a bit, then said, "Okay, Felix, see you later. I'm going now."
Almost too fast, before his voice caught, Felix said, "Bye Mommy!" a little too brightly, a little too loudly. Then the corners of his mouth turned down as he tried to suppress the tears that were threatening.
I turned and left, because doing anything else would have been the wrong thing to do.
Everything inside me, every instinct to protect, all the love I carry in my heart for that brave little soul, protested. But I went.
It sounds so trivial, especially if you're not a parent. Before I was one, I would have read this story and shrugged. So the kid says goodbye to his mom, gets a little water in his eye. It's hardly poverty and orphanages, is it?
Instead, I cry, and love him even a little more.
My Felix. I love you so very, very much.
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Last night I watched the movie "Life as we know it" It is suppose to be a comedy about two single people with mutual friends. When the friends pass away in a car crash they have to take care of their one year old baby. Yes there is comic scenes but for the most part I just cried as the thought of somebody else having to look after my 2 precious ones was too much!
ReplyDeleteI held them a little closer and didn't mind getting up a gazilion times for them. Felix is special in his own way and the love we have for our kids can never be understood and appreciated, except by other moms! This morning Mia cried relentlessly when I dropped her at school, took all of my manpower not to turn back, get her, call in sick and just spend the day hanging out with her!
Ja, ne? They break us down and they build us up again as new, our children
DeleteThat made me cry! Precious gentle soul.
ReplyDeleteI run my own playgroup for littlies and the separation part can be so HARD.
But it sounds as though you have found a wonderfully supportive environment for him.
Neesie
That was heartbreaking. You are so brave to have turned around and kept walking.
ReplyDeleteExactly! Every morning when I leave a crying toddler, I feel the same!
ReplyDeleteVery clever to use the helicopter as a way to get rid of the nappies ;-)
AH yes, not sure if you read my post from yesterday, but even with a 7 year old grade 1 we cry as they cry. Maybe we just hide it a bit better.
ReplyDeleteIt's official. I am crushing on Felix. Only 15 more years until he's 18, he he.
ReplyDeleteI hate to tell you this Stacey but felix's teacher told me she told the class a sad story about a boy who got lost in the desert and made friends with a lonely little cloud. She looked up and Felix's eyes were full of tears.... Aw bless!
ReplyDeleteI'm not a parent, just and uncle of 5.
ReplyDeleteAll of them went through a stage of being really sweet, soft and gentle at about 3 years. It's probably compensation for the hell of the terrible twos!
I'm seeing so much of this in Jack at the moment. From the underpants issues to those moments when his sensitivity and intelligence just astound me.
ReplyDeleteI can't begin to tell you how much I'm enjoying Jack at this age; Part of me wishes he could stay this way. And then he turns into Napoleon when I fail to do what he wants *just so* and the rest of me remembers why my kids growing up is a very, very good thing! ;)