What a Difference a Year Makes

I'm sure I've blogged on this topic before. I've probably even used this exact title before. But when you have small children, you are struck again and again by how much they grow and change (and by how much they change YOU) over the course of 12 months.

One year ago, my then just-turned-2-year-old daughter began taking gymnastics classes. And, like her brother before her, she was a trial to her teacher. Even with me by her side, she didn’t listen, she didn’t follow her classmates, she wanted to play on every piece of equipment except the one she was supposed to be playing on. I spent more time chasing her around the gym than actually doing exercises with her.

She did improve over the course of the year, at least to the point where I was able to get her to cooperate by telling her to instead of by physically chasing her around or bodily picking her up and slinging her into line with the other kids. But I couldn’t imagine what it would be like putting her in a class without me by her side after three months of being away from class.

Well, here it is the next fall, and her second week of class without me. I’d be lying if I said she was perfectly behaved. I would be lying if I said she paid attention to her teacher all the time. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t the least focused child in the class a good bit of the time. But I’d also be lying if I said the improvement wasn’t far above and beyond what I’d ever imagined or even hoped.

She runs right into the warmup circle at the start of class. She sits when she’s told to sit (most of the time), she gets into line with everyone else (some of the time), she waits patiently for her turn (occasionally – although she does at least wait impatiently a good deal of the time), she listens to what her teacher says and tries to do it (almost all of the time).

Well, she's not standing on her dot, but she's in the general vicinity of the circle,
she's not racing around on other equipment, and she seems to be listening to the
teacher. I'd call that a win.

But best of all, she doesn’t think twice about leaving me behind at the top of the stairs when class begins. She doesn’t look up to the windows during class to reassure herself that I’m still there. And although she’s happy to see me at the end of class, it’s not because she’s upset or scared, but because she can’t wait to tell me all about all the exciting things that she just did.

What a difference a year makes. And viva la difference!!

Is a Puzzlement

A few weeks ago, my husband gave me a Kindle Fire for my birthday. I made the mistake of showing it to my 3-year-old son and downloading a few games for him, and I’ve hardly gotten to use it since. I know – I’m the mom, I can just take it away from him. And sometimes I do. But I’m so amazed and impressed at how well he can use it that sometimes I’m just as entertained watching him use it as I am using it myself.

At one level, it’s impressive because he figured out how to navigate around so easily. He knows how to close a game, go back to the home screen, and choose another. He knows how to go from level to level and screen to screen within a game. He knows how to turn the volume up and down. He knows how to pause it for a minute. He knows which button is the “Play” button even though he can’t read.

But at still another level, it’s impressive because of the games he plays. Especially puzzles. I downloaded a few puzzles that I figured he’d eventually be able to learn, or that maybe he could manage if we did them together. Nope. He’s mastered them all on his own. He puts together jigsaw puzzles of trucks as easily as a truck mechanic rebuilding an engine. That didn’t surprise me, since he’s such a truck aficionado. But then I saw him putting together puzzles picturing random things like Disney characters or plates of food or forest scenes just as quickly and easily. Every once in a while, he’ll come to me and say with a sigh, “Mama, this is hard. Can you help me?” But even then, I give him just a few hints (“Look for a piece with blue sky at the top”) and he’s off and running on his own again.

It’s so amazing to me to think how much this kid has learned in such a short time. Not much more than two years ago, he couldn’t even walk on his own and he couldn’t say a single word besides “up.” And now he’s running around, using a computer, solving complicated jigsaw puzzles, and narrating himself through it all.

He is a puzzlement. A wonderful, wondrous puzzlement.