Playtime ~ Living in the Moment

Recently we visited with my hubby's cousin and her husband. Their 4 1/2 year old boy is hubby's Godson and my buddy. When I write about him, I refer to him as Little A. 

If I haven't seen him for a while, he takes a few seconds to come out of his shell and then he gets chatty, tells me what he's been up to and asks me to play. It usually doesn't take him long to want to play together, so I don't often visit with the "adults" for very long. I've always had a sense of this; I enjoy playing with Little A. But this last time when we were down in his play room, his daddy came in for a refreshment for himself and hubby. Hubby came along to see how Little A. and I were doing and to say hello. His daddy said to me that Little A. said that whenever I come over I only talk to him. Hubby turned to daddy and asked if he said that just to clarify; and daddy said no, Little A. said it. We looked at Little A. and he smiled and gave a small squirm of his body to confirm that he had indeed made this observation. 

I admit that hearing it said out loud made me feel a tad self-conscious. I do visit with the adults and when we sit down to eat, naturally there is conversation; but, yes, I suppose it's mostly true, and it seems that Little A. talks to me the most when I'm there too. He engages me, and together we go into his world of play.

So we played. I always follow his lead. We baked cakes, played store, tended to injured stuffed animals, rode on the sea, escaped pirates, went on a safari, and nearly missed putting all the animals away to avoid a big storm. 

As we were winding down, sitting across from each other, out of the blue Little A. says to me, "girls are bossy and make rules; boys don't. But your not bossy." I repeated his statement back to him just to make sure I heard him right. "But your not bossy, Auntie Rebbecca." I smiled inside. It was nice not being lumped in with bossy girls that make rules for the space of time I'm with him. We just play and have fun and giggle and let our imaginations run wild. 

Playing with Little A., there is no other choice but to live in the wonderful, present moment.

What's Wrong with this Picture

Hubby and I both had to stop at the ATM. I was focused on our breakfast destination because I was incredibly hungry, which made me less observant of my surroundings. I was about to walk to the car when he pointed out that someone left their children in the car with its engine on. We looked around to see if a parent was around. No one people were at the ATM machine. Without hesitation he went into the bank to alert someone. I stayed outside in front of the car, looking around to see if someone would come out soon. 

Two children in the back seat, an infant and a toddler, not at all in distress, actually entertaining themselves, but something was not right. Sure, we might be in a safe neighborhood, but no where is absolutely safe and to leave two children unattended in an idling car doesn't seem right. Children are kidnapped all the time; cars stolen.

There were words exchanged in the bank. Hubby asked for security and told them about unattended children. A man–the man spoke up in an angry tone and said they were his and that who was he to judge. Hubby said indeed he was judging and it wasn't right to leave his children in a running car without anyone there. Shortly after that is when they came out those doors. He said the women in the bank gasped, they seemed in disbelief.

I look over at the bank doors to see if anyone is coming out. Out comes a man of about 35, hubby behind him walking towards me, shaking his head. The man reaches into the car with the children, turns off the ignition, and hurriedly goes back into the bank.

I asked if the man at least had a view out to the car. No, his back was to the door. 

What was most shocking to my hubby is that the man clearly did not think there was anything wrong in his decision.

We went on our way. The children remained alone for however long the man needed to clear up his banking business. They would probably be fine.

But really, Sir, you should be more careful in the future!

"I wanna be a Toad..."

"I wanna to be a toad so I can stick my tongue out and eat all day."
–First grader

Because of scheduling changes I have been switched from reading with a few second graders to now first graders. Walking into the first grade room was utter chaos. Every inch of wall was covered in letters, numbers, pictures. There were clusters of children working on different things. Loud noise was booming out of the tape recorder where a group of students was listening to a book on tape. The room was abuzz of chattering children all seeming to be speaking in one long chain of vibration. Another table of students where each student was cracking an egg into a bowl. My senses were overwhelmed. And on top of it all, it was pajama day, so I think this may have added to the frenzy.

The teacher was kind and calm. She asked how I'd like to be referred to, since I had given my first name to her when she asked. "Ms. Rebbecca is fine," I said. She introduced me to the first student I would sit with. "S, this is Ms. Rebbecca. She is going to listen to you read. Here take your books with you. See you in a little bit."

With the second graders, I had selected books for the students to choose from. With the first graders, the teachers send them with their packet of books and word lists for review. This works out well. I may occasionally bring along a book that may be of interest. I'll have to see where the rhythm falls, how it unfolds.

The boy student was quite a character. He made me laugh and was not shy about talking. When I asked him which book he wanted to read first, he said for me to pick it. He chose the next book. It was so nice to see him pull the book from his packet, his eyes widening, and say "this is one of my favorites, I love this book," and he read it to me. Since he knew this one well, and it was a rhyming story, he read it with ease.

It was time for me to take him back to class. As we were getting ready to leave, still full of energy in his manner of speaking and twisting his body, he said,

"I don't like school."

"Why don't you like school?"

"Because it's a lot of work. You're an adult. You don't have to do anything."

"Well, I go to work after this."

"Work–adults just move things around." He made a motion of moving papers around on a desk. "That's not work. School's a lot of work. I wanna be an adult so I don't have to work so hard."

"Well, you'll be an adult one day."

"I wanna be a toad, so I can stick my tongue out and eat all day!"

"Ah, you want to be a toad..."

The recess bell rang as his last thought trailed off. We exited the library as students dribbled out to the hallways. We approached the door to his classroom–back to his world of work.

As I took a short walk during recess before returning to sit with the last student of the morning, I couldn't stop smiling at the utter beauty and innocence of childhood and catching glimmers of my own elementary school memories, albeit quite dusty.

"I just want to be a Princess," he said.

Since I don't have children of my own, nor have I worked with them in a childcare setting, I am truly enjoying my Early Childhood Education (ECE) class.

On the first day of class, the instructor told us that even if none of us decided to work with children, we would still gain much from the class that we could apply in our day to day lives in some way. Yes, I feel that my windows of perception are already opening wider; at the same time, I am revisiting my own childhood experiences in a new way.

During our last class, we got into discussion about how sometimes teachers meddle in a child's self directed learning, where they should really allow them to explore without disruption or redirection where it's not called for. Our instructor had an example of her little girl. She was dropping her off at day care and was chatting with the teacher when the little girl went in the direction of the blocks and began playing with them. The teacher then said something to the little girl along the lines of, "honey, why don't you go play in the dolly corner." Since the teacher is a source of authority and the little girl didn't think to say she'd rather play with blocks, she went to the doll corner as was suggested. Our instructor bit her tongue, after all, she must respect the teacher's classroom. She told us that her little girl didn't look like she was playing and was just going through the motions to please the teacher. She probably would have been interested and engaged in real play had the teacher not interfered with her choice to play with the blocks.

Another story that a student shared caught my attention. She is a nanny for a five year old boy. The boy's father is in the construction business and most of the boy's toys consist of big construction trucks and tools and such. One day the boy said to her in a way that demonstrated his long sought desire, "I just want to be a princess." She told him that she would bring him a princess outfit next time. Later when she was leaving she spoke to the mother in private and told her what her son requested and that she felt that it was important to honor his request and that she was going to buy him a princess outfit and bring it next time. The mother agreed. The nanny knew she would have a challenge with the father, but she was adamant in fulfilling this boy's want. She took the father aside and put it right out there and assured him that this didn't mean his son was gay. Yes, how sad, that this convinced the father, but those were his fears. He also agreed. So, the little boy was allowed to play out the side of him that was tired of playing with trucks and wanted just to be a princess.

I admire this student very much for being able to know the best thing to do for the child and to be able to constructively communicate this to the parents. The boy was thrilled, of course, when she presented him with a princess outfit.

I also learned that it is not uncommon for preschool aged boys to come to school in girls dresses. I applaud the parents that are comfortable enough to allow it, and of course this may be more common in certain cities that are more liberal and open minded. Another student that worked in a preschool said that one of the other kids asked her why another kid was wearing a dress. She said that's what he wanted to wear and he likes it.

These examples make me think of countless children who are pushed in directions they may not be interested in for the sake of the caregivers and teachers; and, of course, parents are guilty of this too. It makes me think of how even though we've come so far as a society, there are certain behaviors that are ingrained on our minds and we act without thinking: what is good for the child? What do they want? What are their interests? What is the best way to respond?

So many things to consider and reflect upon.

Never Too Old

I would never have imagined myself in a million years taking an early childhood education (ECE) class. Two classes ago we walked through the different day care rooms at night on the community college campus to get an idea of how the environments were set up. The infant room brought an instant calm to my being. There were soft toys, books, organization, neutral colors, and pictures up high to look at. As we walked through the different rooms, notebook in hand, I felt that I could see myself in a setting like this one day. I especially liked the pre-school room. There was so much to explore, inside and outside.

I have to admit that I've always been more of an animal person. Children brought up fears in me–with infants, there is a fear of how fragile they are. With the older children, there is the fear of how honest some of them may be, and how well brought up they are to know what's nice to say and not so nice.

On the flip side, that's what's so great about children: They are totally honest.

Somewhere in my early thirties I was in a Safeway and I've always had tendencies toward shyness and insecurity. On this one day I had stopped off at Safeway on my way home from work. I used to bike to work then. I had my bike helmet on my head. It was a hot day and my face was hot and sweaty. I walked by an older child sitting in the shopping cart. she must have been five years old or so. As I walked by she pointed at me and said, "she's ugly." I just kept walking. Her dad was near by and I think he walked over to her and who knows what he mumbled to her.

All I know is that I felt about one inch tall. Even though I didn't know this child, those simple words fed into an insecurity that I felt. From a rational perspective, I could talk myself around it or better yet ignore the comment. But emotionally, it planted a small seed–and not that I had considered working with children then–I think I told myself I never would.

I can tell that a shift has occurred in me, and at this stage in my life, my relationship toward children has changed–is changing in positive ways.

I've said it before, and I don't mind repeating that I believe we all learn and grow at our own pace. In looking back at my childhood, there are many instances where I've had to battle with self-esteem issues. It feels good that as I continue going through life, the layers continue shedding, being replaced by new ones–stronger ones.

We're never too old to learn and grow.