Going on Five; Going on Fifteen

Sometimes, I would swear Duncan is going on fifteen. When I get home from work, or when I pick him up from school, inevitably I ask "How was your day?" to which he responds "Good." I follow with "What did you do?" There are two possible responses:  1)  "I don't remember."; 2)  "I don't want to talk about it."

Part of me wants to be offended. These are social niceties:  have a good day; how was your day; what did you do today.  The thing people are supposed to do is...well...answer. It's not just that I'm his mother, and I care about what he did all day when he wasn't with me; it's also that in polite society, you come up with something to say back. Luckily, the wise woman in me, the one who peeks her head out once in a while and says "you might want to rethink that" has helped me to be quiet and patient. Many times, if I just keep quiet with my ears open, I will hear my answer. As he unwinds and develops some distance from school, he remembers things he wants to tell me. It's not so much that he doesn't want to talk about it; I think it's more that he hasn't really had a chance to think about it yet. He went to school; he lived it; he hasn't really processed it yet, and suddenly there's this overly involved woman who wants all the details. If she'll just shut up, she will eventually get the story.

If the wise woman in me doesn't get the answers, the teacher in me (whoa is the teacher in me strong!) can usually get to the heart of the matter, for she has learned that sometimes you have to ask the question in a different way. "What was your favorite thing you did today?" "What was your least favorite thing you did today?" "What did you have for snack?" "Did you build anything today?" Usually, changing the question, narrowing it, and making it a little more manageable opens up a great discussion of the day's events.

The fun part of these social conventions is that Duncan has begun to ask us what we did at work. There is little that is cuter in the almost-five set than "So, what did you do at work today, Mama?" Interestingly, the answer is usually "I taught some kids. I answered some e-mails. I went to a meeting." As I write it down, it sounds a lot like a 46 year old version of "I don't remember; I don't want to talk about it." It's almost the 16 year old "You wouldn't understand." 

Maybe if I tell a better story, I will get better questions. 46 going on 16. The teacher in me is strong. Stop talking and listen.

Up a Tree

The other day, I came home from work to find Duncan climbing the Japanese maple tree in our front yard. It was such a perfect little boy moment; he climbed up and down and in and out of the branches, with Jamie right there to catch him (though he was no more than 2 or 3 feet off the ground).  I asked him if he would stay there until I could get my camera so I could take a picture of him in the tree. He agreed, but when I returned with the camera he refused to pose for a serious picture. As a result, I don't have an awesome picture of Duncan in the tree, but I do have an amusing time lapse of faces he can make in a matter of minutes in an attempt to be stubborn.

The maple is perfect for a four year old to climb! He can get a few feet off the ground and back again by himself, and there are plenty of problem solving opportunities to entertain his rapidly connecting neurons.  I wish we had an indoor climbing wall at school because I think he would really enjoy it. Instead, we have to settle for "Hurry up, Mama. This branch is really hurting my penis," which is amusing in and of itself.