Reading and Writing

Jonah wrote his name for the first time today. Here's an example (not the first time, but the first time he showed me when I got home from work):

I definitely do not understand motivation behind reading and writing. I remember back in kindergarten when I couldn't read the jokes on those little wax Dixie cups. My neighbor, Jessica could. I wanted to know how to read and somehow I figured out how to do it.

Jonah has known his alphabet for over a year. He can, with a little prompting, sing the ABCs backwards. We played word games at the dinner table every night (I'll give you this alphabet cookie after you tell me three words that start with this letter). He recognizes some words on a page and can get pretty far sounding them out. He tells us, though, that he doesn't want to learn how to read. "Hop on Pop"? Naw.

Is this a control issue, fear of failure, or something else? My guess is that it comes down to basic incentives. Jonah's incentives not to read outweigh his incentives to read. If he learns to read, he risks -- or he thinks he risks -- less one-on-one time reading with mom, dad, or his teachers. If he learns to read, he'll know what traffic signs mean (not very useful, since he doesn't drive) and he can read any book he wants (not an issue, because we pretty much read anything he wants to him). But this is total speculation.

There's no rush, right? I'd love it if Jonah could read to his infant sister, but we can cover for him there. Part of me thinks I want Jonah to learn to read and write quickly just so I can brag about it...kind of like I'm doing in this blog post. But really, I want him to read and write because he wants to. Right? Right?

My Son, the Hero

I've mentioned before that every night at bedtime I read Jonah a story and tell him a story. Tonight, he said he wanted me to tell a story about "Jonah, the guy who melts cold men who are bad." This was new, the first time Jonah has asked for an action-adventure bedtime story.

This cold man thing started a couple of nights ago during dinner. Jonah told us that he and Sammy, his friend at school, played "melt the cold man". The cold man is made of mud and he is, well, frozen. He does bad things, although I'm not sure what Jonah envisions is bad. In any case, Jonah and Sammy were being heroes by melting the cold man.

I learned tonight that the cold man is in a movie that Sammy's mom and dad let him watch. I was only mildly appalled. Michele and I keep Jonah away from violent TV, but this was bound to happen eventually.

Laying next to Jonah at bedtime, I had to think fast. What could I tell him about Jonah, the guy who melts cold men who are bad...that wouldn't perpetuate the idea that only people who bash bad guys are heroes? Tonight, Jonah and Sammy quickly melted a cold man who came down from the sky near two girls who were fighting over a toy truck. Jonah helped the girls resolve a complex dispute over who owned the toy truck, and then he came up with an excellent solution for sharing the reward (another toy truck) with Sammy. Yes, he was a hero.

(Astronauts are heroes, too!)

Shared Interests

Jonah and I developed some bad habits in the way we spent time together.

Example 1: I'm at my computer and Jonah wants to be with me, so he sits on my lap. Bored, he soon starts playing with staples, drawing on mail, and hitting random keys on the keyboard while I type. I lose patience and can't get anything done. No fun.

Example 2: At dinner, we start talking about something Jonah has never heard of before. Say, slime molds. I have the brilliant idea to go find videos of slime molds on YouTube. I think, "Cool, I get to show Jonah something new." Jonah thinks, "Cool, I get to spend 30 minutes on the computer watching the same video again and again." No fun again.

Example 3: Jonah is in the family room and says, "Dad, come play trucks with me." For all I am worth, I cannot figure out what "playing trucks" means. Sure, I can smash some, make them go up a ramp or two, or race for a few minutes. But Jonah is intently focused on scooping plastic coal into a dump truck. Over and over. No fun.

I was acutely aware that this was not the relationship I wanted with my son. Me joining him doing something he wanted to do, him joining me doing something I wanted to do, and neither of us really able to find interest in what the other liked. I did not want to go through the motions of enjoying each others' company. I wanted to find something that we both liked and could really share because we both wanted to be doing it.

Then Magformers came into our lives, a Hanukkah gift from Jonah's Nana. These are plastic triangles and squares filled with magnets, such that surprisingly complex structures can be built. The technology is very cool for a nerd like me. I am fascinated.

Now, Jonah and I build together. Neither of us directs things, as we both have a tendency to do. We help each other, holding pieces while the other puts some in place. We share our own creativity and copy each others' creativity. I lose track of time.

I love feeling like my son's peer, even though he's not even four yet. We have found a way to connect as equals, and it is incredible.

Paint

A couple of weeks ago, Jonah and I watched a DVD about the Space Station. Shortly thereafter, he announced that he wasn't going to wear any clothes because he was a Proton rocket and rockets don't wear clothes. This wasn't a fundamentally new thing, because Jonah is usually something other than a kid or a boy, but it was different in two ways. First, this was the first time he was an object instead of a type of person. In fact, in the days that followed, he moved from rocket to bucket truck to garbage can.
Second, this was the first time he wanted to be totally naked. This was the real shocker because Jonah is very clothing conscious -- he chooses button-down shirts most days and wears them with the collar up, he will no longer wear t-shirts with pictures on them, and he swaps his wardrobe with the smallest sign of dirt.
While naked is okay at home, we didn't really want him in the buff at school. His grandma Janet convinced him to wear some "paint" -- one of two sets of REI longjohns. He now wears them whenever they are clean.

A New Big Brother

Jonah has been a big brother for just over 24 hours. So far, this doesn't seem to have effected him much. He has only seen his sister twice, and he was excited both times. She and mom come home tomorrow, and I suspect that is when the real adjustment will begin.

I'm ambivalent about this. On one hand, I am very excited to have the baby home. I'm also excited about the opportunity this creates for my son. I'm a big brother, too, and although I didn't appreciate it at the time I now know that my sister -- or just having a sibling -- had a lot of impact on my personality. I learned to be a protector and a teacher, and I attribute most of this to my relationship with my younger sister. I look forward to his sister, Aliza, softening Jonah a bit and helping him develop empathy.

At the same time, I already mourn for my son's loss of being the center of attention. I can't imagine how difficult this will be for him.

I am already calculating how I can be the right parent for Jonah through this, while at the same time giving my daughter what she needs AND building both of the relationships. I imagine I will focus on being the friend for Jonah that I've already tried to be. Do guy stuff with him, teach him everything I can, challenge him, and continue to love him more and more every day. I guess I'm as anxious for me as I am for him.

Underwear, Day 2

No accidents today. Jonah still needs to work on his aim, but no accidents.

I'm not sure if this will be self-sustaining yet. Michele and I reminded him frequently, but I don't think any of his trips to the potty were at our prompting. He seems to have a good sense for when he needs to go -- but now he acts on it.

We'll see how things go tomorrow, when he and Michele are home without me.

Underwear, Day 1

After about nine months of potty training teasers, we took the plunge this morning and put Jonah in underwear. He'd been in pull-ups for a couple of months, using the potty once or twice a day and dry all night every night. (For those of you new to the terminology, "pull-ups" are absorbent like diapers but they pull up like underwear. That way, the child can easily take them off and put them back on while learning to use the toilet.)

Today Jonah did really well. One accident. Otherwise, in the toilet or on the front porch (The latter after stripping to run through the sprinklers. Maybe not the best judgement on his part, since his clothes were in the line of fire). When he had his accident this afternoon, sitting on his bedroom floor, he quickly sounded the alarm and changed as fast as he could. A good sign, I think, that he is learning. Plus, it gave me what I needed before he went to bed: "Remember your accident earlier? What would happen if you had an accident while in bed?" Without my even suggesting it he went to the potty again, asking me to help him pee standing up.

I'm a total amateur at potty-training psychology, and I have pangs of parental guilt. I truly believe that he has to want it for him to be successful, and wearing pull-ups or diapers doesn't provide much incentive. I suspect that about 95% of the time he is aware enough now to choose the toilet over his pants. I'm hoping that the discomfort of wet Lightning McQueen underwear, plus loving parental support as he makes mistakes and pees on the carpet, will do the trick.