The Silent One
# 6
Date 8-14-58
Quiet. Dependable. Neat.
By now, there’s probably no one left who would think we had a child to fit those adjectives. Well, we do. John.
He’s quiet. I don’t mean he doesn’t play with a great deal of racket. In that regard, he’s normal. I mean, he’s not the usual three-year-old chatterbox. His comments are limited to strict essentials, like “More carrots,” “Tie shoes,” and “Mine.” He isn’t goingto talk unless he has something to say.
Actually, he is just starting to talk. We were a little worried about him. But we decided that his not. talking was mainly due to his own little personality.
He has all the shynessin this family, coupled with a little self-consciousness and a wide stubborn streak. He doesn’t like to call attention to himself. When he does, he doesn’t want to make a mistake. In his special smile is his pride in doing everything well. So, I s’pose he decided to talk when the words were perfect.
If we do call attention to him, he’s stubborn enough not to come through. He won’t even nod his head when asked a question if he figures the approach’ is wrong! Any indication that we want him to talk will make him clam up for an entire day!
Add these traits to the fact that he is the silent type to start with and we have one little boy who isn’t going to yak-yak all the time. Maybe it runs in the family. He has one little cousin who never so much as said “present” to roll call all during his year of kindergarten. When those two play together, it’s a quiet game.
John’s dependable.
Take a simple little request like “Get my slippers.” Our house is such that this requires a bit of initiative on the part of the children. The slippers have to be Found! John goes to the bedroom, finds ‘em and brings ‘em back. The bedroom looks untouched. When the others get the job, I can tell where they searched. The bedspread is pulled half to the floor, the closet doors, are hanging open and two shirts and a dress are on the floor. Sometimes , I wonder whether they think we put shoes on hangers. At least one chair is tipped. The rug is mussed, the dresser away from the wall. Even the dust under the bed is disturbed.
Most of the time I’d rather look for the slippers myself!
We can also depend on John not to scheme. I mean that scheming that takes place when one child wants what another has.
After cpntinous harping we have got through to
them: Don’t grab things from other people. So they scheme instead: “Let me look at it while you look at what I have.” “How about giving, me one and I’ll ask Mommy for a cookie” “I’ll watch it for you when you’re napping.”
John is more likely to watch quietly till the desired object isdropped voluntarily. Then he takes over. Promptly. His is a swift, silent act.
On the other hand, John resists all attempts to get things away from him. He takes his precious possessions of the moment, like old brushes, an envelope full of mail, bits of fuzz, right to bed with him. He just doesn’t trust the other little people around here!
And neat! He is a joy to watch at the table. He loves to eat. Even, when he was Gerry’s age, his eye was always on the spoon. His is an open mouth policy. The others were hungry, too, but it was my job to get it inside them. I got little or no cooperation.
With them all, eating is just a sideline. Gerry is working to improve his spitting range and welcomes his high chair practice sessions. Tim looks on mealtime as a period for oratory and hand-waving; Mary, for dramatics with a song or two. Buzzy goes to the table as to a chemistry lab. He tests his ability to pour things back and forth, to eat applesauce with his fingers, cookies with his spoon.
John looks on meals like his parents do an opportunity for eating. He tends strictly to business, uses the utensils properly, spills little and gathers the scraps. Such lovely neatness for a mother to behold.
And he’d rather eat vegetables than dessert .This is so unbelievable a story I wonder that I should tell it:
When he was about 18 months, we had, among other things, carrots for dinner one evening. He had his usual four or five helpings. When I dished up the chocolate ice cream after clearing the table, he seemed unhappy and pointed to the counter.
His sign language finally registered. He wanted the carrots in the serving bowl! At least two more portions were left over. I gave him the bowl, which delighted him.
He finished off all the carrots |
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