Sunday, December 7, 2008

What Children Want

This holiday season is particularly significant to our young family as we finally have a child old enough to get excited about it. In many situations I find it hard, as a parent, to muster enough excitement for both a child and myself.

A little over two years ago, I suddenly went from having practically no interaction with people shorter than 5 feet to becoming almost the sole source of entertainment for Junie - when Cody isn't around, that is. I've had to guess what it is that children find interesting, exciting and meaningful. Of course the most logical way to do this would be to tap into memories of my own childhood, but for some reason I'm quite inept in this department. Mostly what I come with up is probably an adult's perception of what a child "should" find entertaining. Cody, however, is brilliant at it. Sometimes when he is able to connect with Junie in a particularly perfect way, I've asked him how he knew that was what she would enjoy. His answer is inevitably "That was something I liked as a kid" or, if he was able to change the pace of a hard moment with Junie, "I remember being bored that way as a child."

I envy this ability, and I suspect Cody is quite proud of it. One of my favorite Cody quotes from last year is, "Somehow I just knew Junie would love playing with that potato!" A potato? You've got to be kidding me. You expect me, as a rational adult who busies herself with paying bills, cooking dinner and cleaning the house, to suddenly think of giving a particularly bored Junie a potato (not a play potato, mind you, but an actual, edible potato) to play with?

How does Cody's mind work? When I attempt such absurdities, I fall flat on my face. I've even tried copying the things Cody shows Junie, but somehow she knows that he remembers finding those things interesting. I, on the other hand, am apparently transparently adult to the core. When Junie looks at a bug with Cody, she's enthralled. I, however, feel like I'm trying to lead a fully hydrated horse to water and make it drink. "Look Junie! It's a bug! It's so... neat. It's doing all kinds of fun bug things. Look at the bug, Junie. Look..." That is me trailing off as she shows no interest in the bug and moves off to look at a far more interesting rock. But why a rock, Junie? I've steeled myself against having to look closely at a yucky bug that I would most likely have squished with a shoe had I found it in our house. Has all my steeling been for nothing? I can at least imagine that bugs might be interesting to a two year old, but a boring old rock?

As I was downloading and perusing our recent photos and video clips of Junie in preparation for this post, Cody asked, "Why are you always the one taking the videos?" My somewhat self-righteous response was, "I guess because I think to do it." But upon further thought, it may be that the times Junie is having the most fun (and thus is the most enticing to camera-wielding adults) is when she's interacting with Cody.

Take a simple walk through the fall leaves:



Or sidestepping along a ledge:



But Cody isn't the only one that I see relating well to my daughter while I flounder in my attempts to be a "fun mom." The week of Thanksgiving, we braved an 11 hour drive to D.C. to visit Cody's brother Jesse, his wife Sarah and their new baby Julian.

Juniper, by the way, did splendidly during the trip. Much to our delight she seems to have suddenly developed the ability to self-entertain for long stretches in the car. But back to my story... Sarah's Aunt Bibiana graciously let us stay in her house. It was a beautiful home only a five minute walk from the Capitol. Bibiana, however, has no children. Mothers with small children may be able to imagine the number of near-heart attacks I had during our four day stay as I stalked Junie's every move, trying to keep her from touching the incredibly interesting, incredibly fragile things that filled her house. Junie quickly learned a new word while there: breakable.

Luckily there was a school playground just across the street, to which we fled with regularity.



We also made sure to ride the metro, something Junie has been remembering fondly since our trip this summer to visit Jesse and Sarah. For an hour and a half of entertainment, it was the best $2.70 we ever spent.


We did, however, have a great time visiting with Sarah and Jesse, and getting to know our new little nephew, Julian. Junie instantly adored Julian - the only trick was to keep her from literally smothering him with her love.

Jesse and Sarah were great hosts. Despite her sleep deprived state as a new mother, Sarah coordinated, and we all prepared, an impressive Thanksgiving feast.










The last day of our visit, we began playing a board game while Junie was napping. This was also the day Bibiana returned from her Thanksgiving vacation. Around the time she got home, Junie woke up and was instantly enamored with all the plastic board game pieces that we had spent the last hour and a half carefully placing on the board in our individual attempts to emerge as champion of "Ticket to Ride." My heart rate rapidly rose as I desperately tried to concentrate on the game while keeping Junie not only away from everything in the house (doubly stressful since Bibiana was now present) but away from the game board which we had stupidly set up on a low coffee table, extremely accessible to Junie. I unsuccessfully tried to keep her at bay with spare cards and pieces set safely away from where the action was. She saw right through my feeble attempts and would have none of it. About at the end of my rope, I watched as Sarah began helping an instantly pacified Junie set up spare trains on the game board. Not be outdone by my sister-in-law with only 6 weeks experience as a mom, I lamely tried to jump in: "Hey Junie! Where do you want to put this train? No, no, not over there. No... wait! Arghh!" this last exclamation being yelped as she destroyed the entire railway system of southwest Europe. My only helpful contribution at this point was to remember it was snack time and safely restrain her in her high chair where she couldn't wreak further havoc.

And so, as Christmas approaches, I see a chance to redeem myself in a way. Here is an intrinsically fun time of year, right? It's basically a given that Junie will enjoy making Christmas cookies, listening to Christmas songs, looking at Christmas lights, playing in the snow, etc. And so yesterday I eagerly embraced my new role as a fun Christmas-time mom by planning and executing our day of setting up and decorating the Christmas tree.



Yes, it went well enough. But then today Cody goes and does a simple thing like suggest to Junie that they make popcorn together...



What can I say? Cody has a special talent for interacting with kids. At least our kid. And I'm lucky he does.

3 comments:

Julia Peper said...

Wow Jennie. That was so cute! Let me just say that the only reason I can even consider having children is because of TJ. He's gonna be a great dad, I can tell. I guess we're both pretty lucky, huh?

SCGC said...

It's always so refreshing to read good writing. I'd come back to this blog even if I didn't know the characters involved just because it's always clever or witty or thoughtful. But I think moms are, by their nature, overly self-critical. From the outside you've always struck me as a natural, to the extent that I was nervous to have you see me with my son. I was afraid you'd be horrified when you saw all the ways that we were permanently ruining his life. :-)

Rick said...

What can I say? Daddies are just special that way. I think because us stay at home moms spend so much time with our children, we just run out of ideas. It's way more fun when Dad suggests something. But..I still find comfort in being the first one that Logan calls for when he falls or hurts himself. At least he needs me promptly to get a kiss that will make the boo-boo better.