He says "Please" and "Thank You". He expresses himself using full sentences. He shares his opinion; "Hmm, I think ..." And is quite fond of the word "No!". "No! I'm still busy. No! I don't want to bath. No! I don't want to sleep."
Just a few minutes ago, i said to Papa that when he takes Shabd to bed, he should switch off the lights so that Shabd would go to sleep. Shabd at that time was in another room, busy drawing on his iPad. Not missing a beat, he piped up, "Don't switch off the light. Leave it on Papa."
How does he do that? His little-little hands are busy, his little-little mind is busy, his little-little eyes are focused on the screen, how does he still follow a conversation being held in another room?! This child just boggles me!
Any-who...i digress. I imagine, following cues from Shabd, that he probably feels like an awkward teenager. Not quite adult and yet not quite child. Only, at two and a half, it's more not quite big boy and yet not quite baby either.
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| Barely 6 days old and basking in the love. |
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| 2 and a half years old and trying to get the tractor to "Move!" |
Our behaviour towards Shabd probably doesn't help the situation either as Papa and I constantly fluctuate between cooing over our "little baby" and proudly proclaiming how proud we are of our "big boy".
Nounou and the grandparents are even worse! I often see a look of puzzlement which slowly turns into a smile of wonder when they interact with Shabd.
I can just imagine the internal dialogue going on in their minds. "I must ensure i peel and chop each grape for him. He's a baby and could easily choke. Did he just read out the number plate on that car? Waow!" they whisper, a wide smile spreading from ear to ear!
I think that in the first year of a child's development, there is great amazement as physical milestones are reached. Babies master holding their heads up, rolling over, sitting up, crawling, walking, running and jumping!
But in the second year, the child's development seems to be more mentally and emotionally focused. Words are strung together more and more coherently, opinions are expressed and feelings are declared.
I've found more and more this year that I've encouraged Shabd to "USE YOUR WORDS!" Of late, we've been exploring feeling frustrated.
Shabd often feels frustrated as he tries to independently navigate our adult world, with high counter tops and even harder to reach places. When he cannot get what he wants independently, no matter how much effort and imagination he puts into reaching his goal, his frustration levels peak and like a volcano he explodes in a spectacular scene of brimstone and fire. As you can imagine, the pitch of the screaming is ear-splitting and will have you running for the hills.
But not this Super Mum! I'm made of tougher stuff!
Super Mum: Shabd, you're a big boy now. You need to USE YOUR WORDS. If you've tried and it isn't working, it's okay. It's okay to feel frustrated and it's okay to ask for help. Okay?
Shabd: Nods slightly and mutters an indiscriminate Hmm.
Super Mum: The next time you're feeling frustrated, i want you to try one more time. If it still doesn't work you must say, "Mummy/Papa can you help me please. I'm feeling frustrated!" (accompanying hand action also shown). Do you understand mummy?
Shabd: Nods slightly and mutters an indiscriminate Hmm. A small smile can be seen lurking around the corners of his mouth.
Thus greatly enthused by this, Super Mum continues.
Super Mum: Shabd, my big boy, can you please tell me what you're going to say the next time you're feeling frustrated?
Shabd: Mummy/Papa can you help me please. I'm feeling fruss-tray-tid! (accompanying hand action proudly done).
Three days after our little talk, Shabd carried a small stool from the bathroom to his bedroom and tried to reach a box of sweets lying on his dresser. Alas, try as he might, the stool was too small and/or he is too short to reach the sweets. I observe this from the peace and tranquility of the TV room and prepare myself mentally for an ear splitting scream.
Instead, i hear the pitter patter of his little feet as he runs to me saying, "Mummy can you help me please. I'm feeling fruss-tray-tid!!"
"With the greatest of pleasure I can my big boy. With the greatest of pleasure!" I say.
