3.25
It's been a big quarter for Henry. We quit school. With our newly open-ended schedule and the deep-freeze weather, we've
tried every awesome indoor activity in the tri-state area. We tried and failed on nighttime potty training. But despite the setbacks, the dude is great.
We gave up on preschool after the first week of January. Henry had gotten progressively more negative about school since the end of September. The only good drop-off we had was the very last day of the semester, when I told him it was his last day and he didn't have to go any more. It's very unusual for him to resist something for that long without ever coming around. I told the school director we weren't coming back and then she belatedly offered to let him try the next class up, where he'd be with slightly older kids. We tried it for two days. The first day he cried at drop-off but then raved about it all afternoon, and the teacher said he was totally running with the other kids, so I got very hopeful. Nonetheless, on the second day I had to peel him kicking and screaming off of every piece of furniture between his bedroom and the front door, then listed to him wail all nine blocks to school, and then gave up at the point we were both in tears as I was trying to physically drag him through the classroom door. Maybe he would have been fine in class, but we couldn't do that three mornings a week anymore. I think he might have been fine if he had switched to the other class in October when I first contacted the director about it, but by January he had gotten it deep in his head that he hated school. I struggled with letting him quit, because sometimes he needs to be nudged over a hump, plus why is my three year old the only one on the planet who doesn't like reading stories and finger painting with the other children??? But he's actually been really awesome since he quit school -- way less clingy and prone to freakouts -- so perhaps school was really a great weight on his fuzzy little shoulders.
He's been fun and goofy and exuberant. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. It's tough when we can't go out and burn a ton of energy. It's also tough that all the other 3 and 4 year old boys are in school, so there's no one to play with most days. I'll be honest -- Ingrid alone is soooooo muuuuuuuch eeeeeeeasier. But the boy-child is such a presence that when he's gone, it's lonely around here. Good thing we're stuck with each other all the time now, and making the most of it. Indoor bounce house. Aquarium. Viking hiking. Children's museum. It's fun for all of us because he loves all of it so much.
He's the best big brother of all time. He engages Ingrid to play and is unbelievably solicitous of her (and then he body checks her. He's three.). And I think he is relishing the role because he seeks out other chances to help with babies. One day at the end of music class, the teacher told Henry he did a great job and he was really helping to show the younger kids what to do. Now, every Monday when I tell him it's time for music class, the first thing he says is, "Can I show the little kids what to do?" (the second thing is, "Can we go to Chipotle after?"). And at another class a couple of weeks ago, and a 9-month-old girl with the awesomest red hair got sad because her mom walked away. Henry went over to sit with her. He talked to her in a little voice and gave her Ingrid's bracelet. The girl's mom watched in amazement and asked me, "Is he always like that?" Yes, believe it or not. That's my guy.
But do not be deceived. He's such a boy. It's all poop and fart and butts all the time.
In developmental news, Henry finally started drawing humanoid figures. All of our friends have girls who started drawing universal tadpoles like a year ago, and Henry was still randomly scribbling (when I could get him to color at all) until two weeks ago when he suddenly broke out these characters. He told me they were good bad guys.
He's also starting to ask hard questions. Some of them are the sort that arise from, ahem, bathing with his sister. But also, where does [this meat we're eating] come from? But isn't that sad for the chicken? After the supervillain character dies, he'll get better again, right? Why do boys have nipples? I don't know, buddy. Go ask your father.
We gave up on preschool after the first week of January. Henry had gotten progressively more negative about school since the end of September. The only good drop-off we had was the very last day of the semester, when I told him it was his last day and he didn't have to go any more. It's very unusual for him to resist something for that long without ever coming around. I told the school director we weren't coming back and then she belatedly offered to let him try the next class up, where he'd be with slightly older kids. We tried it for two days. The first day he cried at drop-off but then raved about it all afternoon, and the teacher said he was totally running with the other kids, so I got very hopeful. Nonetheless, on the second day I had to peel him kicking and screaming off of every piece of furniture between his bedroom and the front door, then listed to him wail all nine blocks to school, and then gave up at the point we were both in tears as I was trying to physically drag him through the classroom door. Maybe he would have been fine in class, but we couldn't do that three mornings a week anymore. I think he might have been fine if he had switched to the other class in October when I first contacted the director about it, but by January he had gotten it deep in his head that he hated school. I struggled with letting him quit, because sometimes he needs to be nudged over a hump, plus why is my three year old the only one on the planet who doesn't like reading stories and finger painting with the other children??? But he's actually been really awesome since he quit school -- way less clingy and prone to freakouts -- so perhaps school was really a great weight on his fuzzy little shoulders.
He's been fun and goofy and exuberant. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. It's tough when we can't go out and burn a ton of energy. It's also tough that all the other 3 and 4 year old boys are in school, so there's no one to play with most days. I'll be honest -- Ingrid alone is soooooo muuuuuuuch eeeeeeeasier. But the boy-child is such a presence that when he's gone, it's lonely around here. Good thing we're stuck with each other all the time now, and making the most of it. Indoor bounce house. Aquarium. Viking hiking. Children's museum. It's fun for all of us because he loves all of it so much.
He's the best big brother of all time. He engages Ingrid to play and is unbelievably solicitous of her (and then he body checks her. He's three.). And I think he is relishing the role because he seeks out other chances to help with babies. One day at the end of music class, the teacher told Henry he did a great job and he was really helping to show the younger kids what to do. Now, every Monday when I tell him it's time for music class, the first thing he says is, "Can I show the little kids what to do?" (the second thing is, "Can we go to Chipotle after?"). And at another class a couple of weeks ago, and a 9-month-old girl with the awesomest red hair got sad because her mom walked away. Henry went over to sit with her. He talked to her in a little voice and gave her Ingrid's bracelet. The girl's mom watched in amazement and asked me, "Is he always like that?" Yes, believe it or not. That's my guy.
But do not be deceived. He's such a boy. It's all poop and fart and butts all the time.
In developmental news, Henry finally started drawing humanoid figures. All of our friends have girls who started drawing universal tadpoles like a year ago, and Henry was still randomly scribbling (when I could get him to color at all) until two weeks ago when he suddenly broke out these characters. He told me they were good bad guys.
He's also starting to ask hard questions. Some of them are the sort that arise from, ahem, bathing with his sister. But also, where does [this meat we're eating] come from? But isn't that sad for the chicken? After the supervillain character dies, he'll get better again, right? Why do boys have nipples? I don't know, buddy. Go ask your father.
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