I have an uncanny knack for finding spiders but not for killing them. No, I have Bill do my dirty work with the closest paper towel, tissue or napkin. But lately I have a much more humane option, It's Liam rescuing the spiders and bringing them outside.
Once in middle school I screamed so loudly from the downstairs bathroom that my father literally lept down a flight of stairs to rescue me from what he thought surely must be an intruder. Instead it was a daddy long legs on the wall that was respecting my space. My brother won't let me forget about the time we were rock scrambling- we were climbing a wooden ladder and I had stopped to carve Bill + Jess into a rung with a Swiss Army Knife. A slug crawled onto my finger and apparently I waved the knife in the air and almost stabbed my brother whose leg was just above mine. I don't do well with insects and crawly creatures.
I recognize that I have an inappropriate fear of creatures that can do me no real harm. I was hoping not to pass this on to my children. I didn't know how I could possibly not pass on my tendency to shriek when approached by 8 legs. Don't children copy their parents? But somehow Liam just isn't afraid of creepy crawlies. He picks them up and even lets them crawl on him. Now this freaks me out and inside I'm getting all heeby jeeby, but instead of outwardly freaking out I just help him to the door to let out his new friend.
This week working on the garden, Liam did something I could never bring myself to do. He picked up not just one worm here and there but a handful. He giggled with his friend as he collected more and more worms. We found a nest of ant eggs and the Josh and Liam watched them intently as they scampered around, trying to dig deeper away from us humans (it's a good thing too because we were about to till the soil). They looked through a toy magnifying glass to see them up closer.
My kids hear me screaming and they see Bill on a bug killing spree, but somehow they're not afraid of bugs. And somehow they don't think to kill them either. Poor Liam after a weekend in the woods is covered with bug bites because he didn't know to slap a bug off his skin (he was gently shooing them away instead). I'm quite happy to know that I didn't pass on this fear to Liam and I'm hoping his interest in the creepy crawlies will encourage Joshua not to be afraid either.
Last year we witnessed something amazing. A spider had laid hundreds of tiny eggs on our playground and we got to see the newborn spiders hatching and setting out into the world. We sat and watched as some ran and others let themselves be blown away. Liam helped along others on leaves and sticks. We talked about how some would make it and some would not. Just for that moment we ignored the fact that if any of them ended up in the house I would probably have it executed by Bill... unless that spider was lucky enough to be found by Liam and brought safely outside in his protective hands.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Functional Fixedness
You may only know that term if you took a child psych class in college and actually studied for the final. I think of it though everytime I see Liam or Joshua turn our couch cushions into an obstacle course. See, objects are not always exactly how they appear to us boring in-the-box-thinking adults. There once was a time when forks could be hairbrushes (I give Ariel the credit for that one) and when pots and pans were our favorite drums.
Now how boring am I? While Liam and Joshua turn toilet paper rolls into telescopes, I'm planning on putting their Easter baskets into the sandbox to use as... buckets! Wow, that's a big jump. I don't think I'm entirely bound by functional fixedness. For example, I turned my nursing cape into a Superman Cape for Liam's Superhero birthday! But I'm not nearly as creative (anymore) as my boys. They specialize in misuse of objects. Take those magnetic fishing poles (used for puzzles and such). They're no fun at all if you're not holding onto the stick and swinging the string attached to a magnet around in a circle precariously close to your baby brother.
Liam and Joshua can turn just about anything into a toy. They spent hours running amok in the house with my scarf. They both hold onto it and run in tandem back and forth up and down our hallway. This was fun enough, but then I showed Liam that you can actually get inside of the scarf (hard to explain, it's actually like a tube scarf, if that makes any sense at all). He had fun pretending to be a bear but then realized he could stuff the scarf with other valuables... like pillows. Now my scarf will never be the same; and there are black fluffies all over the carpet upstairs as evidence. Yesterday I was mildly amused when Joshua showed me his new "hat". It was the top of my perfume bottle. I smiled sweetly at him and told him to put it away. Five minutes later I happened upon Liam in the bathroom... spraying my perfume into a plastic cup and mixing it with bubbles. It seems my perfume makes an excellent science experiment. Speaking of science experiments, you know what else is fun to test out? How high cotton can fly when you put it up against a fan. And where better to get cotton than Mommy's couch pillows?
So what is functional fixedness? It's the lack of an ability to see things not just for what they are, but for what they can be. It's in-the-box thinking that binds you to reality. Functional fixedness is something that children simply have never heard of. And if all was right with the world, perhaps they would never develop this debilitating condition. Not having functional fixedness is what makes children so innocent. It's the reason why sometimes the box can be just as fun as the toy and other times why they get into so much trouble.
Now how boring am I? While Liam and Joshua turn toilet paper rolls into telescopes, I'm planning on putting their Easter baskets into the sandbox to use as... buckets! Wow, that's a big jump. I don't think I'm entirely bound by functional fixedness. For example, I turned my nursing cape into a Superman Cape for Liam's Superhero birthday! But I'm not nearly as creative (anymore) as my boys. They specialize in misuse of objects. Take those magnetic fishing poles (used for puzzles and such). They're no fun at all if you're not holding onto the stick and swinging the string attached to a magnet around in a circle precariously close to your baby brother.
Liam and Joshua can turn just about anything into a toy. They spent hours running amok in the house with my scarf. They both hold onto it and run in tandem back and forth up and down our hallway. This was fun enough, but then I showed Liam that you can actually get inside of the scarf (hard to explain, it's actually like a tube scarf, if that makes any sense at all). He had fun pretending to be a bear but then realized he could stuff the scarf with other valuables... like pillows. Now my scarf will never be the same; and there are black fluffies all over the carpet upstairs as evidence. Yesterday I was mildly amused when Joshua showed me his new "hat". It was the top of my perfume bottle. I smiled sweetly at him and told him to put it away. Five minutes later I happened upon Liam in the bathroom... spraying my perfume into a plastic cup and mixing it with bubbles. It seems my perfume makes an excellent science experiment. Speaking of science experiments, you know what else is fun to test out? How high cotton can fly when you put it up against a fan. And where better to get cotton than Mommy's couch pillows?
So what is functional fixedness? It's the lack of an ability to see things not just for what they are, but for what they can be. It's in-the-box thinking that binds you to reality. Functional fixedness is something that children simply have never heard of. And if all was right with the world, perhaps they would never develop this debilitating condition. Not having functional fixedness is what makes children so innocent. It's the reason why sometimes the box can be just as fun as the toy and other times why they get into so much trouble.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
No Love For Mama
Last night Joshua told me that he didn't love me. To be fair, I picked the fight. I knew he would say he didn't love me. So when I asked, "Do you love your Mama?" I was quite sure he would say "No." and when I asked "Who do you love?" I also knew what his answer would be... "Daddy".
Yet at 5:47 AM it was my name I heard on the baby monitor. Now if you don't love someone, why on Earth would you call for them at 5:47 AM?
Being woken up at 5:47 on a Saturday just isn't right, but there is a saving grace to the whole thing... cartoons. So I brought Joshua into our room to watch cartoons. Meanwhile, the object of his affections (Daddy) was asleep downstairs. The cartoons were on, Joshua was awake and I attempted to go back to bed. But then the remote fell behind the mattress so I had to get it. I fell back asleep within a few minutes but then woke again by Joshua's version of cuddling (taking his 10 pound head and squishing it into my cheekbone). He also stole my pillows and forced me over to the other side of the bed.
We moved to the living room. I thought, there's a couch there so there won't be room for Joshua to smoosh me. I turned on the cartoons. Now here's how I know I was still asleep... I also gave him some markers and a coloring book. They were washable but still, what was I thinking? The next thing I remember, something/someone was drawing on my arm. I woke up briefly to wrestle the marker out of Joshua's hand, stopping to notice the lovely pattern he had drawn on his rocket ship shirt. Ooops.
By about 7:30 Liam was also awake but I still wasn't planning on officially facing the day yet. I realize that 7:30 is a perfectly acceptable time for a parent to be woken up- actually it's sleeping in most days- but today I just wasn't ready yet. I did have to change a diaper though. After a morning of being asked for by name, "cuddled" with and after allowing coloring before 8 am you would think that Joshua would have found it in himself to profess his love for me... or that I would not be stupid enough to ask again. But I did (as I was changing his poopy diaper). And the answer was still "No."
I fell back asleep on the couch until about 8 AM when Joshua and Liam started to ask about their father. They found him downstairs. Then Liam came upstairs and told me he wanted to do a Mother's Day Project. Oh, how cute! He wanted to paint. And this is how I know I was still asleep... "Get a towel." was my only response. In my sleepy haze, I thought, "Well, he's wearing PJ's so it's okay if there's a stain and all of our paint is washable and as long as he cleans up." Ridiculous assumptions on my part. Then I added in a sleepy voice "Liam, go paint outside."
Liam walked by me and luckily I opened my eye just a tinge (even though he told me not to because it was a Mother's Day surprise.. even though it's a week after Mother's Day) to see him with a craft box- a tile painting kit. There was no way those paints were washable. That's when I officially decided it was time to face the day. Not after being drawn on or sat on or having my pillows usurped or after an overdose of Thomas the Train (seriously, Sir Topham Hat has gained some weight) or even after a superbly stinky diaper. No, it was the non washable paint. Every mother's dreaded fear. By the time I caught up and got outside, Liam had started to paint his foot. I told him that was a bad idea with this project (with non washable paint). Somehow I persuaded Joshua to use washable watercolors.
Look, it's really no big deal that Joshua says he doesn't love me. I know he does but he just shows it in different ways. Like calling my name when he needs something- no matter what time it is.
Yet at 5:47 AM it was my name I heard on the baby monitor. Now if you don't love someone, why on Earth would you call for them at 5:47 AM?
Being woken up at 5:47 on a Saturday just isn't right, but there is a saving grace to the whole thing... cartoons. So I brought Joshua into our room to watch cartoons. Meanwhile, the object of his affections (Daddy) was asleep downstairs. The cartoons were on, Joshua was awake and I attempted to go back to bed. But then the remote fell behind the mattress so I had to get it. I fell back asleep within a few minutes but then woke again by Joshua's version of cuddling (taking his 10 pound head and squishing it into my cheekbone). He also stole my pillows and forced me over to the other side of the bed.
We moved to the living room. I thought, there's a couch there so there won't be room for Joshua to smoosh me. I turned on the cartoons. Now here's how I know I was still asleep... I also gave him some markers and a coloring book. They were washable but still, what was I thinking? The next thing I remember, something/someone was drawing on my arm. I woke up briefly to wrestle the marker out of Joshua's hand, stopping to notice the lovely pattern he had drawn on his rocket ship shirt. Ooops.
By about 7:30 Liam was also awake but I still wasn't planning on officially facing the day yet. I realize that 7:30 is a perfectly acceptable time for a parent to be woken up- actually it's sleeping in most days- but today I just wasn't ready yet. I did have to change a diaper though. After a morning of being asked for by name, "cuddled" with and after allowing coloring before 8 am you would think that Joshua would have found it in himself to profess his love for me... or that I would not be stupid enough to ask again. But I did (as I was changing his poopy diaper). And the answer was still "No."
I fell back asleep on the couch until about 8 AM when Joshua and Liam started to ask about their father. They found him downstairs. Then Liam came upstairs and told me he wanted to do a Mother's Day Project. Oh, how cute! He wanted to paint. And this is how I know I was still asleep... "Get a towel." was my only response. In my sleepy haze, I thought, "Well, he's wearing PJ's so it's okay if there's a stain and all of our paint is washable and as long as he cleans up." Ridiculous assumptions on my part. Then I added in a sleepy voice "Liam, go paint outside."
Liam walked by me and luckily I opened my eye just a tinge (even though he told me not to because it was a Mother's Day surprise.. even though it's a week after Mother's Day) to see him with a craft box- a tile painting kit. There was no way those paints were washable. That's when I officially decided it was time to face the day. Not after being drawn on or sat on or having my pillows usurped or after an overdose of Thomas the Train (seriously, Sir Topham Hat has gained some weight) or even after a superbly stinky diaper. No, it was the non washable paint. Every mother's dreaded fear. By the time I caught up and got outside, Liam had started to paint his foot. I told him that was a bad idea with this project (with non washable paint). Somehow I persuaded Joshua to use washable watercolors.
Look, it's really no big deal that Joshua says he doesn't love me. I know he does but he just shows it in different ways. Like calling my name when he needs something- no matter what time it is.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
I Am So Un-Cool
Apparently parenting has "lost its cool". Luckily, I was never cool in the first place. But as if cutting my own bangs, braces and an inability to run without kicking my heels out wasn't enough... now I'm a parent so doubly uncool. Damn it.
Apparently there's a whole contingent of married couples that vehemently oppose child-rearing and one of them wrote an article for Details magazine in April (I just read the article this week, which fully demonstrates how uncool I am to be reading an article from last month when we will probably soon be receiving the June issue. On a side note, we only get Details magazine because it's free with Bill's frequent flier miles). The article is "The No-Baby Boom by Brian Frazer. This article provides anecdote after anecdote of why these people don't want children. They see their broke friends with kids, observe the chauffeured mini-vans pulling up to soccer fields, witness the competition over day care slots and judge their neighbors as they yell at their kids. Wow. Does that ever sound crummy!
Now I know happy couples without kids. I've met them and I've envied them, don't get me wrong. But I've never wanted to get into a contest with them over who is happier in their marriage... or their life. Lord knows, maybe they've even envied me! Truly, I've always known I wanted to have children. When I was a child while other little girls dreamed of their wedding day, I visualized myself in my mid-30s with kids and a husband washing off our RV in the driveway. This was my vision so really there's no question over whether or not I should have had kids. And for the record, I don't think I pushed Bill into it either considering that as a pre-teen he voluntarily coached Little League (the guy was really meant to coach Little League and people do tend to judge men without their own kids who coach Little League). Having kids was inevitable but that didn't mean that it's been easy. I am broke. I have been known to yell at my kids within earshot of the neighbors. I have reserved spots at day cares almost a year in advance. We do chauffeur our kids to bowling, music class, swimming and baseball (not to soccer, apparently boys in this family aren't allowed to play soccer... which means that as soon as Liam finds out this rule, he will insist on playing soccer). It's not just these things, I'm utterly exhausted- emotionally and physically- a lot of the time. I am so drained I sometimes feel like a shell of my normal self. I feel my eyes glaze over in the grocery store and end up just buying Ramen noodles instead of Barilla PLUS (because the kids have decided they'd rather have "crazy noodles" than noodles fortified with protein). I haven't been to a real concert since I was early on in my pregnancy with Liam (Allman Brothers). Oh pity me, my life is a mess of stress and frustration and deprivation. But I don't regret it at all.
Here's the part where I justify all of that mess, stress, frustration and deprivation. What those no-baby boomers are missing is: the feeling of utter one-ness with an infant you have created, the conversation of someone without boundaries, the joy of watching someone else experience childhood for the first and only time, the wisdom of learning that you shall not judge others as bad parents because it's likely someone someday soon will see you dragging your child through Target and leaving a trail of Cheerios all the way from the toy section to the check-out line (of course you don't skip the check-out line, you just got to Target, you're not going to leave empty handed). What I wouldn't want to miss is: Christmas morning through the eyes of my kids or their expressions watching a lame magic show; sharing a movie we used to love as children (Ghostbusters) and having them love it more than we even did; seeing my husband as a father, my parents and his parents as grandparents, siblings and special friends as loving aunts and uncles. What people without children may not realize is that you can watch someone else's child for a few days and get some loving. It will even quite possibly be very special because you're special to them and more fun their parents. But there is a special bond that children have with their parents. It's the same bond that permits them to be utter nightmares once the front door is closed, but it's a bond nonetheless that makes them cuddle up close for storytime that same night and ask for you by name first thing in the morning.
Here's the thing. Many of the people who marry and don't have kids- including the author- were either indecisive about having kids or didn't want them at all. They didn't want kids because they didn't want to be broke, didn't want to hear themselves yelling at their kids, didn't want to give up having fun, didn't want to chauffeur their kids to sports, didn't want to spend their time looking for daycare. Blech. I think basing your decision on child-rearing on those things would turn just about anyone off! Base your decision on those good things, I think. But in the end, if you still don't know about having kids and if you still really don't want them... don't bother. See, in the end we're both being selfish- you for wanting to maintain your good life without sacrificing for your offspring and me for wanting to tag along with someone else's childhood. Just try not to give me a nasty look if I push my bulky stroller over your blanket at that free outdoor concert or if my kid throws a jelly packet onto your table at breakfast (and I'll try not to judge you as you jet off to Atlantic City for the weekend in a limo).
Apparently there's a whole contingent of married couples that vehemently oppose child-rearing and one of them wrote an article for Details magazine in April (I just read the article this week, which fully demonstrates how uncool I am to be reading an article from last month when we will probably soon be receiving the June issue. On a side note, we only get Details magazine because it's free with Bill's frequent flier miles). The article is "The No-Baby Boom by Brian Frazer. This article provides anecdote after anecdote of why these people don't want children. They see their broke friends with kids, observe the chauffeured mini-vans pulling up to soccer fields, witness the competition over day care slots and judge their neighbors as they yell at their kids. Wow. Does that ever sound crummy!
Now I know happy couples without kids. I've met them and I've envied them, don't get me wrong. But I've never wanted to get into a contest with them over who is happier in their marriage... or their life. Lord knows, maybe they've even envied me! Truly, I've always known I wanted to have children. When I was a child while other little girls dreamed of their wedding day, I visualized myself in my mid-30s with kids and a husband washing off our RV in the driveway. This was my vision so really there's no question over whether or not I should have had kids. And for the record, I don't think I pushed Bill into it either considering that as a pre-teen he voluntarily coached Little League (the guy was really meant to coach Little League and people do tend to judge men without their own kids who coach Little League). Having kids was inevitable but that didn't mean that it's been easy. I am broke. I have been known to yell at my kids within earshot of the neighbors. I have reserved spots at day cares almost a year in advance. We do chauffeur our kids to bowling, music class, swimming and baseball (not to soccer, apparently boys in this family aren't allowed to play soccer... which means that as soon as Liam finds out this rule, he will insist on playing soccer). It's not just these things, I'm utterly exhausted- emotionally and physically- a lot of the time. I am so drained I sometimes feel like a shell of my normal self. I feel my eyes glaze over in the grocery store and end up just buying Ramen noodles instead of Barilla PLUS (because the kids have decided they'd rather have "crazy noodles" than noodles fortified with protein). I haven't been to a real concert since I was early on in my pregnancy with Liam (Allman Brothers). Oh pity me, my life is a mess of stress and frustration and deprivation. But I don't regret it at all.
Here's the part where I justify all of that mess, stress, frustration and deprivation. What those no-baby boomers are missing is: the feeling of utter one-ness with an infant you have created, the conversation of someone without boundaries, the joy of watching someone else experience childhood for the first and only time, the wisdom of learning that you shall not judge others as bad parents because it's likely someone someday soon will see you dragging your child through Target and leaving a trail of Cheerios all the way from the toy section to the check-out line (of course you don't skip the check-out line, you just got to Target, you're not going to leave empty handed). What I wouldn't want to miss is: Christmas morning through the eyes of my kids or their expressions watching a lame magic show; sharing a movie we used to love as children (Ghostbusters) and having them love it more than we even did; seeing my husband as a father, my parents and his parents as grandparents, siblings and special friends as loving aunts and uncles. What people without children may not realize is that you can watch someone else's child for a few days and get some loving. It will even quite possibly be very special because you're special to them and more fun their parents. But there is a special bond that children have with their parents. It's the same bond that permits them to be utter nightmares once the front door is closed, but it's a bond nonetheless that makes them cuddle up close for storytime that same night and ask for you by name first thing in the morning.
Here's the thing. Many of the people who marry and don't have kids- including the author- were either indecisive about having kids or didn't want them at all. They didn't want kids because they didn't want to be broke, didn't want to hear themselves yelling at their kids, didn't want to give up having fun, didn't want to chauffeur their kids to sports, didn't want to spend their time looking for daycare. Blech. I think basing your decision on child-rearing on those things would turn just about anyone off! Base your decision on those good things, I think. But in the end, if you still don't know about having kids and if you still really don't want them... don't bother. See, in the end we're both being selfish- you for wanting to maintain your good life without sacrificing for your offspring and me for wanting to tag along with someone else's childhood. Just try not to give me a nasty look if I push my bulky stroller over your blanket at that free outdoor concert or if my kid throws a jelly packet onto your table at breakfast (and I'll try not to judge you as you jet off to Atlantic City for the weekend in a limo).
Monday, May 2, 2011
Nightmare Scenario
When I was growing up, my worst fear was knives. Something about the thought of knives just made my skin crawl. When I was about 6 years old, my mom started referring to knives as "sharps". I had a baby brother and she wanted him to stay away from those dangerous utensils. So why not call it like it is... sharp. Don't touch it. She may have been onto something.
These days I seem to be over my knife phobia. Perhaps it's because I've watched so many CSI, NCIS and ER episodes. Nowadays it's cars that are my worst nightmare. I'm even a bit reluctant to admit it on "paper" but it's true. I have the worst nightmares about cars and my kids. Knives were close and personal- maybe that's why they haunted me. But cars are big and powerful and kids are so small and vulnerable. So as you can imagine, I've spent quite a bit of time explaining to Liam & Josh to stay clear of cars with their red reverse lights on. I try to rationalize with Joshua as he squirms away why he needs to keep holding my hand in a parking lot. I've been so proud of Liam each time he calls out "car" on a bike ride... even when he pulls over for cars that are parked. He's the only kid on the block... maybe the world... who actually looks both ways before chasing his ball into the street. Yet just this Thursday afternoon there Liam was on his bike aimlessly drifting into the oncoming traffic of a main road.
It was a sunny afternoon and we were all out for a walk. Liam was riding his new bike which, we soon discovered, lets him ride much faster than he used to. So he was up ahead while I rolled Josh in the stroller with Bill and my dad poking along behind. We kept telling Liam to stop. Stop at the mailbox, stop at the sign,... and each time he'd go a little bit further than he was told. Several times I found myself shouting stop and running after him. One time though, he just didn't stop...even when the sidewalk ended, Liam just kept going- actually veering left into the main road. Up ahead there were cars coming into his lane. My dad quickly ran into the road and helped him safely across. Looking back, all I remember is freezing but Bill tells me that he saw me running towards Liam. All was well... except for my imagination. What if the cars were a little bit closer? What if a car was in the other lane, coming from behind us?
I told Liam it's better to fall of a bike onto a sidewalk or grass than ever ride into the road. He said he couldn't stop and didn't want to fall. How do you explain the danger of cars to kids? Liam thinks he's Superman. Once he actually told me he would just push a car away.
Whatever I told him, clearly wasn't enough. The next day he was standing next to his father as a car in a parking lot came around a corner quickly. I clearly said, "Stay where you are Liam" but somehow Liam decided to run across to me anyway. In his defence, he said he was running because he saw the car was coming, but that rationality just doesn't work when it comes to cars. So once again my imagination got away from me. Maybe we should follow my mom's lead. Like calling knives "sharps"... we could call cars "heavies" or "hurts". Hmmm.... I don't think that's going to work. Maybe instead I should just teach Liam how to fall off of his bike into the grass.
These days I seem to be over my knife phobia. Perhaps it's because I've watched so many CSI, NCIS and ER episodes. Nowadays it's cars that are my worst nightmare. I'm even a bit reluctant to admit it on "paper" but it's true. I have the worst nightmares about cars and my kids. Knives were close and personal- maybe that's why they haunted me. But cars are big and powerful and kids are so small and vulnerable. So as you can imagine, I've spent quite a bit of time explaining to Liam & Josh to stay clear of cars with their red reverse lights on. I try to rationalize with Joshua as he squirms away why he needs to keep holding my hand in a parking lot. I've been so proud of Liam each time he calls out "car" on a bike ride... even when he pulls over for cars that are parked. He's the only kid on the block... maybe the world... who actually looks both ways before chasing his ball into the street. Yet just this Thursday afternoon there Liam was on his bike aimlessly drifting into the oncoming traffic of a main road.
It was a sunny afternoon and we were all out for a walk. Liam was riding his new bike which, we soon discovered, lets him ride much faster than he used to. So he was up ahead while I rolled Josh in the stroller with Bill and my dad poking along behind. We kept telling Liam to stop. Stop at the mailbox, stop at the sign,... and each time he'd go a little bit further than he was told. Several times I found myself shouting stop and running after him. One time though, he just didn't stop...even when the sidewalk ended, Liam just kept going- actually veering left into the main road. Up ahead there were cars coming into his lane. My dad quickly ran into the road and helped him safely across. Looking back, all I remember is freezing but Bill tells me that he saw me running towards Liam. All was well... except for my imagination. What if the cars were a little bit closer? What if a car was in the other lane, coming from behind us?
I told Liam it's better to fall of a bike onto a sidewalk or grass than ever ride into the road. He said he couldn't stop and didn't want to fall. How do you explain the danger of cars to kids? Liam thinks he's Superman. Once he actually told me he would just push a car away.
Whatever I told him, clearly wasn't enough. The next day he was standing next to his father as a car in a parking lot came around a corner quickly. I clearly said, "Stay where you are Liam" but somehow Liam decided to run across to me anyway. In his defence, he said he was running because he saw the car was coming, but that rationality just doesn't work when it comes to cars. So once again my imagination got away from me. Maybe we should follow my mom's lead. Like calling knives "sharps"... we could call cars "heavies" or "hurts". Hmmm.... I don't think that's going to work. Maybe instead I should just teach Liam how to fall off of his bike into the grass.
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