Julie's Boggle

I’ve been wanting to write a post with updates on Jon for ages now, but it’s become very hard to pin down specific changes when there are so many different areas where he’s changing all the time.  In the end I decided that I wouldn’t try to be too structured, but rather put down things that we’ve particularly noticed or that have made a noticeable difference in our lives.

The highest ranking one is definitely Communication, because one aspect that has really come on in the last 8 months is Jon’s talking.  And watching this fundamental skill develop from scratch has made me realise how communicating so quickly becomes the means of defining one’s sense of self-identity.

The first stage is discovering as a child that using one’s limited word set to describe a particular need to a participating adult can result in it being fulfilled.  This is pleasing.  The words are few though and expectations are low.

Stage one is enhanced as more words are learned [and understood by the adult interpreter], and a broader range of desires can be described and met. Simple two-way conversations start to take place, insignificant choices are offered (“Do you want to read Dinosaurs or the Caterpillar book tonight?”) and significant decisions are made (“Di-dor!”).  An even more pleasing sense of autonomy is introduced to the evolving brain.

From here though, we move to the second stage where an expectation starts to develop.  The belief that goes with the primitive speech and autonomy is that because a request has been expressed in words, it will be fulfilled / agreed with.  And this is where the problems can start…

“More cake!”

“No nappy change!”

“Mummy carry [me].”  (I think he has a strong sense that I avoid this wherever possible lately. )

“No carry / pushchair!  Walk!  Walk!”

“No warm coat!”

When Jon gets into one of those moods (fortunately not all that common), it all becomes a rather complex game of parental cunning and toddler psychology.  (And yes, it all starts to overlap a lot with general discipline, especially when the words are combined with a physical act like running away.)

Is he testing boundaries?  Or is he perhaps just hungry / tired / unwell thus justifying a little extra leniency? Is this an argument worth having?  Either way we want to be consistent and firm but without sounding like dictators or squelching the delicate ego overly much.

The first option is usually to try a distraction, or to offer a simple choice to get past the sticking point: “Do you want to walk or ride your car to your change mat?”  There have even been occasions where logic will work, but there’s a certain skill level required in explaining things to a stubborn toddler at the best of times.

If those steps don’t resolve the impasse, and particularly when the clock is working against you, the fall-back option sometimes has to be: “plough on regardless”.  Often requiring some sort of forceful physical intervention.  It seldom results in a win-win outcome…

Over the last 6 months, I’ve seen the full range of reactions in Jon when it comes to over-riding his personal belief in his right to make demands and have us go along with them.  The best case scenario is grudging acceptance, which means the incident is forgotten about in a minute or two.

An exasperating variation is the switch to a full-on state of negation.  This means that Everything the adult says must be greeted with refusal — nothing will do, even if it implies a huge personal sacrifice so the point will be made!  It’s a stressful form of self-punishment, and will usually end in tears being shed over the (unnecessary) personal sacrifices.

The last and most extreme case (Jon’s version of a tantrum, I think) is rare.  It’s an intense state of crying that can go on and on (we’ve never actually waited one out past 10 minutes) – by which time the original request is forgotten, and a simple hug, reassurance and a big nose blow will restore life to its proper balance.

Looking back, life seemed a lot simpler in the days when Jonathan couldn’t really talk, and we could simply impose our parental will on him and, for the most part, have him accept it.  (Even when he didn’t, we were bigger and stronger and faster than him, so we tended to win without much effort.)

How things have changed…

Fortunately, Jon’s default state is as a rather amiable chap, and we are getting better on the psychology and mood-reading that are required for the other times.

Now we sit back and watch how adding a tiny sibling to Jon’s immediate circle will re-shuffle the family dynamics all over again.