As Elise alluded to in the previous post, last weekend was an exceptionally trying one. Some unknown malevolent force had taken possession of Sam and transmogrified him from the sweet and happy boy we all know and love into a petulant, brooding, insouciant brat. I couldn’t believe some of the things coming out of his mouth because I could never before fathom him being capable of saying such things or even for the life of me imagine where he could have picked them up. Things like, “You never let me do what I want to do!” What’re you talking about!? All we ever do is what you want to do! Ahh! “I’m so mad at you!” Well, not nearly as mad as I’m about to get at you, now go to your room!
You get the picture.
What Elise and I have failed to appreciate until very recently is that Sam is growing. Obviously, we recognized the fact that he is growing physically (boy, is he ever!), but he is also growing mentally and emotionally. Sometimes, it is easy to think that he will always be the happy go-lucky Sam-O that is content making Thomas train tracks on the play room floor, but, sadly, this will not be the case. He will need more. He will yearn for more and not always know how to ask for it. He will be bored. We will bore him.
This is where the 1st “A” comes in. Activity.
Sam always fairs better out of the house. This should come as no surprise to us. As a baby, he loved being outside. The favorite part of his day were the early evening walks around Abacoa to the crickets chirping madly in the high grass or just playing on the front stoop. This is still the case. The boy needs scenery. He needs change. School helps, and he will go five days a week soon. He wants to go. He just doesn’t quite want to admit it to us.
The 2nd “A” is Attention.
Sam always is in a better mood when I give him my undivided attention, whether that be by reading books with him tucked under my arm in the evening, watching him climb the jungle gym at the park or pretending to be X-Men (he calls it the Ching-Ching Game, aptly titled after the sound Wolverine’s claws make when they clash together. Sam call him “Loverine”. The ‘real’ Wolverine would be appalled). This should seem obvious. Every boy needs his dad. This seems especially true of Sam. I don’t think I do anything special to fill any particular need he has. It’s not like he can’t live without the pancakes I make in the morning or the way we say prayers at night before I tuck him into bed or the way I drop him off at school with a “Kiss and hug kiss and hug”. Or maybe it is. I don’t know.
Many of my colleagues at work are having to take jobs in offices where their families can’t accompany them. I could never, ever do that to Sam.
The problem last weekend was all I did all weekend was give him my undivided attention, and it wasn't working. All it was doing was exhausting me and pissing Sam off more. We managed to kill many birds with one stone on Wednesday, when I had a rare mid-week day off for a Brazilian holiday, Dia das Criancas, or Day of the Kids. We got everyone to Parque da Cidade and even flirted with the idea of going go-karting. Though we didn't hop behind the wheels of mini-Formula 1 cars, we played a lot and seemingly melted away most of Sam's inner ennui. By the time he woke up from nap, he was starting to act vaguely...normal.
Recently, at the kitchen table, I described to Elise my theory behind Sam’s defiant behavior and my plan to address, “The 3 A’s. Activity. Attention and…”
I didn’t have a third “A”.
“Alcohol,” Elise quickly chimed in.
I laughed. It was perfect.
Earlier in the day...I think it was before 9...Sam opened the fridge and offered me a beer. I appreciated his thoughfulness, and his acts of thoughtfulness are becoming more frequent. What does it say about me that I actually thought about taking him up on it? I mean, Brazilians grocery shop at 8 in the morning with a cold can of Skol in hand. When in Brazil, right? Yeah...it had been a long weekend. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment