He doesn’t know it, but he is.
I’ve struggled a bit today. We all do, sometimes. And some times more than others.
But there is one thing that is a dead cert. Even if, at teatime, all he really wanted to do was throw his big, flashing bouncy ball into his bowl of bolognese. Even if this week has been a bit of a bunfight, trying to persuade him to go to school. Even if his tummy isn’t very happy at the moment, and that makes his behaviour a little less predictable. Even if a new regime of very limited iPad time means more meltdowns. You know, it also means more connection, even if that connection is difficult at times.
If you want full and complete eye contact with Ted, you need only ask: “Would you like…” and you have his undivided attention. He’s hoping you’re going to mention something with chocolate on or in it (plain, of course – dairy-free) but a banana makes him just as happy, and all the time you draw it out, there he is, his big brown eyes gazing right into yours. It’s so rare it takes your breath away.
We’re trying to instil a little more independence in him, too. He’s four and can take his clothes off, though usually when you least want him to 🙂 and he doesn’t really, can’t really, dress himself. If you want him to eat a meal today, he’ll need much cajoling and assistance so as not to run off and engage in something else.
So at bathtime, I put his flannel in the soapy water, wrung it out and held it up to him.
“Teddy? Can you wash your face?”
He held his hands up to take it, paused – clearly thinking better of it – put them back into the water, craned his neck and inched his face forward into the cloth.
Every day, comic relief.
The Ted Diaries 