Mommy Learns a Lesson (or 3)

Samuel was playing with his little mini truck today. It's maybe about the size of 2 loaves of bread, stacked. It's a dump truck with a pretty small, um, dumper? Okay, so it's called an "open-box bed", but I'm going to call it a "dumper" for the purposes of this story. It's just easier.

Anyway, he was trying with all his might to step into and stand in the dumper. He was hunched over the truck, desperately trying to stick his left foot in. I happened to look over right at that moment and said, "No, no!"  I thought for certain he was going to lose balance and topple headfirst right onto the hardwood floor. (For the record, he would have).

Well, he started crying. He NEVER cries when we tell him no. NEVER. He usually just shakes his head and says, "No, no, no, no" and walks/crawls away from the object. Sometimes he even smiles.

Right then, looking into those tear-filled eyes, I saw something very important about boys. I knew it before, but I really understood it in that moment: Boys HAVE to be able to try and conquer tasks, especially the hard ones. Even if they get hurt. (Ey-yi-yi). Especially if they get hurt. (Bestillmymotheringheart). In the name of safety, (which I'm learning means very little to a tiny guy), I took away the joy of his quest and I truly believe I broke his Baby Boy heart.

So, I went over to him and tried to explain the situation. I attempted to tell him that the truck was too small for climbing: "Samuel is big. Truck is small. No standing in truck." I tried to put his water bottle in the dumper (it was the closest thing to the truck) with the hope that driving something in the dumper would make it exciting for him. You know, like a game. Because games are fun.

He cried harder. And then there was a full-on wail. It was unlike anything I had ever heard come from his body. Like from the guts of a devastated person. Because he was. He was devastated.

Apparently, I didn't actually put into practice the lesson that I received like, oh, 30 seconds earlier: And rationalizing, explaining, etc.?? Obviously I was getting on-the-job-experience that boys aren't exactly looking for those things when there is a world to explore. So I received my second lesson: Boys NEED you to believe they can do it.

So, I tried to help him put one foot in. He cried more and started yelling, "Daddy, Daddy!" (Daddy was at work).

And there was my third lesson in mothering a man-child: No matter how  well-intentioned Mama's help is, boys NEED another male to conquer the world with them.

BUT, since Daddy was gone, I had to think like a Daddy (and like a Samuel). Samuel wanted to be in the truck, so I sat him on the truck and drove him around making lots of truck noises.

This sufficed for a moment, and the tears went away, but my little guy went right back to trying to climb into the truck. BECAUSE I STILL DIDN'T GET IT. No matter how much I tried to divert, create new alternatives, make happy memories, HE NEEDED TO ACHIEVE HIS GOAL. He needed to conquer his task.


He ended up doing it with a (tiny) bit of help from Mama, and he was so happy and so proud. And I was so proud of my little man.

He's a terrific climber.

He's a terrific teacher.