Monday, September 26, 2011

Eyes Opened Again and Again and Again

Afternoons like yesterday are the ones that can sometimes make my whole year. I haven't stopped thinking about it.

Max and I shared a movie date earlier in the day (we saw A Dolphin's Tale, which had me in tears within the first five minutes). It was a sweet mother-son outing, of the kind I revel in because I'm guilty of getting caught up in the day-to-day stuff, the routine and obligations, and I often don't even think of planning something like this.

When we were headed home, I told Max that for the rest of the day, we'd be home and he could play with any of his toys and watch a little TV. I have so much to do, with Jevo moving in in a few weeks, that I need to be home, focusing on those things, which is a mix of exciting and anxiety-inducing. I was, in the back of my head, worried that an entire afternoon cooped up indoors would drive him mad (which would, in turn, drive me mad). It wouldn't be the first time, and bored, restless Max is no easy thing to deal with. I was prepared to bribe him to keep him from bouncing off the walls. I was thinking how I usually pack weekends with things to do - errands, playdates, family stuff - so that we're rarely "doing nothing" at home for more than a couple of hours at a time. I decided I was going to have to ease up and let him make a mess and get very loud if it meant I could get stuff done, and was repeating just that - ease up, ease up - over and over again as I pulled up into the house.

This is the thing about my kid - he's pretty much non-stop movement. Even as he's totally into something, he's still moving and fidgeting (and funnily enough, my mom informed me this weekend that I was the same way). He is a chatterbox. I mean, a serious chatterbox. He wakes me up at 5:30 a.m. on any given day with his classic opening line, "Mommy, you know what?" And from there, he just talks, talks, talks. It is one of the things I love most about him, yet that too can easily veer from "charming and awesome" to "oh g-d please child please be quiet for one minute so I can think!" Seriously, the child talks and talks and talks, and it becomes disruptive when it's time to get him into the tub, when I'd like him to listen to the bedtime story, when I'm trying to answer his first question but he's already on question four. I love his energy and spirit, but honestly, keeping up is hard.

So yesterday, I was prepared for incessant requests to go out, for whining, for a meltdown. I got my game face on and hunkered down in the kitchen/dining room to fold laundry and continue sorting stuff. And then, after some TV while he lunched, and some train-track building/playing, and a couple requests to go play outside, I noticed something: utter silence. I peeked over at him, and there he was on the living room floor, Lego pieces scattered around him as he contemplated the instructions and tried to figure it out.

I don't know how long he spent trying to build that little car, but I was floored. He's usually absorbed in his other activities, utterly giving himself into his imagination, but this was different. He wasn't distracted by anything, and he didn't take a break until frustration with one piece had him yell out for my help.

Max shows so much enthusiasm for so many things that a lot of it doesn't really hit me. He's passionate about trains, but later in the day he's so crazy about painting, that it's easy to just see that he likes to bounce around a number of favored activities and bounce, bounce, bounce. This stock-still silence and complete absorption was so, so, different.

And in the end, he had something to show for it. He was able to figure out the instructions and build a car. I couldn't hide my happy surprise and praised him for sticking with it until he got it, and it was so clear that he was proud of himself. He kept asking me, "Can't you believe I figured it out all by myself?" Clearly, even he was impressed with the feat!

And for me, it was just one of those moments that you never expect and never really prepare for even as you know that life as a parent is filled with them: I saw a new side of him, and it blew me away. It jarred me from my own myopia, from my absorption lately with chores, chores, chores, and slugging through the day. I thought, man, I demand a lot from him and now when I just leave him alone, he shows me what he's capable of. I needed this lesson, needed a new filter through which to see this incredible boy of mine.

Of course, now he wants more Legos. He played a bit tonight with his older sets (the toddler type), and I could see him kinda itching for something like the one he built last night, specific pieces to build specific things, with instructions.

A wish like that, a mother must fulfill.

Labels:



Posted by Tere @ 9/26/2011   | |

3 Comments

  • Blogger Holly posted at 9/27/2011 3:06 PM  
    So cute. I think your guy and my guy together could chatter each other under the table and run around while doing it.

    Legos are great. Do you know about Legoland opening up in central Florida next month?

  • Blogger Blue Wit posted at 9/27/2011 6:19 PM  
    Yes, she must.

    My kid went through a seriously hyper phase and a friend sent me a link on ADHD. Life was hell after that, of course. I talked to the doctor, I talked to his class teacher, I talked to his school administrator. Needless to say, he's fine now. *rolls eyes*

  • Blogger Tere posted at 9/29/2011 1:38 AM  
    Ah, Holly, then you understand! I DO know about Legoland and hope to visit within the first couple months of it opening.

    BW - I totally understand, I do.

    • Post a Comment

    « Home

    Create a Link