Pretend vs. Real Life

Cole has quite an impressive imagination. I remember when he was three or so listening from my desk as he chatted away in his playroom. I could tell he was playing multiple characters because he would change his inflection, voice or tone. I was fascinated then but am more awed now as his pretend play has become quite complex and intellectual (by that I mean he is incorporating things he learned at school, via books or by watching shows/TV such as Wild Kratts, Sid the Science Kid, Calliou into his dialogue). I love to eavesdrop as he fights battles, flies through outer space or is off saving animals, it is just more difficult to do so now because he senses my silent intrusion. He will find me, furrow his brow and ask me point blank in an irritated manner "mom, are you hearing me play!?"

I'll assume that part of the reason that Cole plays solo so well is because he is an only child. When there are no other kiddos around to play the opposing role in any number of his scenarios and when Dave and I are not able to join him, he has had to assume both parts, more often than many of his peers who have siblings or neighborhood kids on their street who fill that need.

Cole loves to get caught up in his imaginary world of super heroes, astronauts and hospitality workers (he loves to play hotel and restaurant) but he surprised me the other day when he was playing an animal adventure game on Dave's IPad and he won and a message from the character popped up saying that he could get his "creature power suit", which was a cyber-version of a costume. Cole however thought it was something "real" that he would get in the mail and he got visibly upset when I told him that he wouldn't. "But mom, I don't want it to be pretend, I want it to be real life, I want to touch it". Sadly, I wish it could have been "real life" as he craved. My fear for his generation is that not nearly enough of his experiences will be the "real life" things that defined my childhood. I will do my darnedest to expose him to those but technology is encroaching from all sides shrinking their "real life" sphere to one that is of an alarmingly smaller proportion.

Class of 2025

This past week Dave, Cole and I attended our local school district's kindergarten round-up & registration. Although Cole has gone to Montessori for three years now, the change to our public school (and their schedule) will be an adjustment for all of us. After completing 80 pages of paperwork before hand, there were additional things to sign-up for like assessments and bus safety events. Last fall, I went to the Open House which was a tour of the classrooms, chats with the teachers and an overall presentation about its IB Programme based curriculum. What was thrilling about this recent week's evening was watching Cole enter the building and feeling his outright excitement. He "oooohhhed and ahhhhed" at so many things. Once a shy and hesitant boy, he was at ease as he played around with some of his fellow playmates with whom he will attend kindergarten with. While the parents then listened to current families speak about their Kindergarten year and the principal and the IB Programme Coordinator talk about the merits of Aquila Elementary, the kiddos were shuttled to classrooms to spend some time with their potential classmates and teachers. As the presentation began, the Welcome to the Class of 2025 banner was pointed out. That was a WOW moment for me as now that year took on a whole new meaning. Following the presentation, the kiddos paraded onto the stage, having learned the school song. They had all gotten goodie bags with pencils/erasers/math playing cards et al and Cole was beaming as he found us in the crowd and waved. I have good vibes about next year as much as I will forever hold a dear place in my heart for Orono Montessori where my little guy was doted upon by his beloved teachers during some of his most formative development.

Where Is His Off Button?

Cole has always been a chatty kiddo. Back when he was a toddler, he would babble on and on in his "language". As his mom, through deductive listening and inquiry (and much repetition on his part), I learned his "language" and could interpret his speech when everyone else would look at me and say "what did he say?". I would state over and over to him the proper pronunciation of whatever I knew he meant, knowing that his developing mind would in time, put all the sounds together and astoundingly spit them out in recognizable verse. That process simply amazed me. Then followed his "WHY" stage. Every object, sound, and sight he curiously questioned. This phase did not amaze me as it was purely irritating after the 50th "WHY" within a two hour period; however, it did give me pause to remember that this stage was vital to his brain synapses firing at full throttle. As a first time mom, I read a lot of parenting "stuff" and read some article, amongst the hundreds, about the importance of exposing little ones to a grand host of things as brain cells digest information more rapidly when they are young and "fire" up areas that would otherwise go dormant if not. As he entered his early preschool years, his imagination came to life. He could independently play with himself and his "friends". I would stand out of sight and smile as I listened to him use dialogue as if there were two people speaking. He would change his tone and inflection to represent the "other" person. I always chuckled when he used a word that I commonly would use when speaking with him. I never baby-talked to him, I always used my normal vocabulary and he was correctly using those words in context. In the past six months or so, Cole has taken his talkative nature to a whole other level. To say he has become loquacious would be a grand understatement. He could talk a politician to death. When he gets on a roll, you can't help but remind him to breathe. It doesn't matter the subject, you can find him animated about any random number of things. You would be lucky to comment and if you attempt to do so and he isn't receptive, he'll furrow his brow as a deterrent of sorts and continue on with his dissertation. We joke with him about frequently about his "off" button, which long ago we defined as his belly button and which seems to be in a constant state of disrepair, LOL. We "push it" into OFF mode and Cole does one of two things, pretends to shut off momentarily and then spring to life again as he pushes himself back ON or he'll say something like "out of order" or similar. Cole is like a car that just needs to completely run out of gas before it stops working. He operates on all cylinders from 5:30 in the morning until 8 at night and not until then begins to sputter. Some days I wish there was an override mode on his "engine" but alas he seems to have only an internal "reset" button that works properly.

STALLING...

Cole could teach a class on "The Best Way to Stall" these days. He has acquired quite a creative approach to procrastination and avoidance. Cole has never been one to have colossal meltdowns when things aren't going his way or when he doesn't want to do something; don't get me wrong, the kid can pour on the drama in nanoseconds and win an Oscar (typically at the end of a long day) but he so rarely flips his lid that it barely needs mentioning.

I have to give him kudos for finding clever ways to "mask" his delay tactics. Here are several in his arsenal.

Cole eats on European time, grazing at his meals for nearly an hour. Although I embrace the "slow eating movement" as it is better for digestion, at some point, I have to close the kitchen. When I attempt to "encourage" him to finish up, he begins "stretching", explaining that stretching is good for his body. "Okay, great but why does it have to be done while you are eating?" I remark. "Mom, my muscles help my body make energy from my food but they get tired sometimes when I'm eating, so I have to stretch." Say What?

Despite the multiple times we give Cole a head's up about bedtime, he 99% of the time, whines that he isn't tired. After several futile attempts at negotiating five more minutes, he often decides that he has to tell us something. This kid can talk and when he shares a story, it is a five minute story. So he manages to gain his five minutes by telling us a story about something that happened during his day. Though Dave and I enjoy hearing his tales, we find it "funny" how when we both ask him questions about his day earlier in the evening, he forgets or doesn't remember what he did. After he chats away, he skips away to brush his teeth, all is well in the world with those extra few minutes gained, LOL.

Cole has ALWAYS detested taking medication of any kind. The tears start to well and he backs away. He truly has a fear for some reason and thus every sip or every drop has to be planned out. Lately, in his quivering voice he'll go "I have a plan" or "here's an idea". He then spells out intricately how he wants me or Dave to help him take the medication. Literally, what should take seconds, takes nearly 10 minutes but at least he is realizing it has to get done and taking ownership in what will help him accomplish it.

Life lesson #1007

As I have mentioned in previous posts, Cole has competitiveness hardwired into his DNA. That trait can be both a positive and a negative depending on how you control your attitude. We do our best as parents to teach our kids how to handle both the feelings of exhilaration and disappointment when winning or losing. It is a tricky life lesson for a five year old to be able to manage either graciously; Cole either wants to brag and gloat or have a complete meltdown when the outcome is less than what he expected.

Cole has always struggled with losing at anything and despite our repeated attempts at ensuring that he has both won and lost at numerous things, his typical mild-manner and sensitive nature morphs into a wild and angry version when he finds himself on the not so fun end of a race or a game. Trying to explain that not winning at something is okay is just a tough perspective for him to swallow. When you are five there is a limited amount of "gray"; things are still primarily "black and white". Though he is cognizant that sometimes he will be the fastest during a race or he will be the winner at a game, and sometimes he just won't, using logic when emotions swell is an ever-evolving skill (one that most adults still don't utilize very well).

Cole's reactive tendencies (either direction) are just a symptom of his mind still adjusting to the concept that winning feels good and hence he wants to make sure everyone knows it and losing feels icky, and thus, he wants to make sure everyone knows it. It is a feat to balance those and find a way to convey either your happiness or disappointment without going to extremes.

He is a brilliant boy and I have no doubt, he will learn to harness his competitive streak into a fantastic show of determination and ambition. However, I anticipate plenty of bumps (and tears) along the way.