Knowing (to some extent) what is going on in his wee head
One of PB and LB's relations once remarked, of a small child's elaborate but baffling game, 'what is going on in his wee head?!', a phrase we have taken up for those moments when it becomes apparent how much toddlers live in their own utterly different world. But I've been realising recently that PB is in a small window of developmental stage when what is going on in his wee head is relatively known to me, because he provides constant monologues. LB's thoughts are still completely opaque to me, and once PB is older, he wil probably learn to supress this commentary, but for the moment, he does seem to be saying what he is thinking.
The three examples that follow all took place within a couple of days and were all while he was playing with his toy cars. In the first one he was interacting with me a bit more, but mostly he seems to be chatting to himself and just checking in now and again that I am still paying some attention.
"That where the petrol comes in. That where you can see them. This way. Go that way. Happy [nonsense. Heavy breathing]. Crash, bang, wallop, bang. I'm trying to get the car out. Now they got out .The car's outside. Do you see them through that little gap? [indicating, I think, imaginary people inside the car through the side window] You can't see them through that gap [pointing to gap into boot]. A racing car. Shall I... Shall we hid it? Where shall I hid it? I know. Where shall I hid it? [I suggest 'under that drape?'] No, I can't see under there. [I suggest under LB's seat, he puts it there] Where is the car? I've lost some of the cars. What will Daddy say if we have lost some of the cars?! What will he say?! [Me, laughing, 'I don't know'] Somebody needs to know! Does Daddy know? [Me, laughing, 'probably'] Can we go upstairs and pretend there's Daddy in the nappy box?* Come on, come on. Don't bring those things [indicating the pen and paper with which I am noting this]."
"[Sad voice and a bit of a pout] The red car is looking for its friend. Where is its friend? It's looking in the caravan. I'm helping it find its friend. I hid its friend under LB's seat. Here it is. The tractor is looking for its Daddy. And it's looking for its big brother. I'm just taking off the other mummies and daddies and brothers. I'm looking for the little baby tractor. That's the mum and that's a mum and that's the brother of the tractor. I found it. But we haven't found the baby. They've got two babies! And here's the mummy one and there's the daddy one and here's the big brother. And here's one of the uncles and aunts come to visit. The mummy's going to work now in the car. The work is in here. Fiddling around at work but never mind. Look at the mum. The mum is trying to drive her car out of work. Now she's coming back. Look at the two babies getting born. They are just sitting. The mumdaddy are waiting til they are born. The mummy went to work cos then the babies won't be born. The tractors are waiting for the babies to be born. And the train is. And the caravan. This is a baby too. They've got three babies. This baby has been born but the other two aren't. Now one of them is born but the other one isn't. Now they are all born. Now all the people are clapping because all the three babies are born. This one is clapping as well. One of the people are clapping from in here. There's the radiator. That's the small, big brother truck, it says. So it's parking there. The racing car has still got its friend, but its friend has driven off."
"[Singing] Play the music, moo, moo, moo
[Speaking] Shake it all about. That's how the story end
[Singing] Play the music, damp, damp, damp. Then we'll play some more. Seesaw, Margery Daw, Jenny shall have a new dense of war.
[Speaking] No, no, go away you bold bad spider. Tell me about when you were a little girl and something sting you when you were learning to swim [a favourite story. I respond stallingly with 'mmm' while I write this down, but he loses interest and carries on talking to himself]
[Singing] Pena pena. Seesaw, Margery Daw, Jonny has [nonsense] pencil drawer. Buggery baw. [hums the tune of 'play the music']
[Speaking] And the other one was Ted. Does the boot open? Does the boot open of their car? No it doesn't open. Do you see, it's half open. It opened completely open. They have left the door open. They maked the boot shut again. They they they are trying to open shut that door. Now they sut that door, now they trying to open the other door. They got the boot open while they're driving. You have to have your feet up while you're driving
[Singing] The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, the wheels on the bus go round and round all day long. The wipers on the bus go swish, swish, swish; swish, swish, swish; swish, swish, swish; the wipers on the bus go swish, swish, swish, all day long."
What do I observe of his interior life, apart from the terrifying patriarchal authority figure his father clearly represents ('what *will* Daddy say if we have lost some of the cars?!)?
Well I'm somewhat reassured to realise that he personifies and peoples the motor vehicles so much. They are without a doubt his favourite of his own toys and he always makes a beeline for other people's when we are out. I don't like this for both green and gender stereotyping reasons, but I feel a bit better if he's using them to think about families, friendship and the birth of babies (this is an observation of my feelings, I'm not saying my feelings are necessarily right or justified. Although obviously they feel that way to me).
I already knew that he had picked up normative family structures, which is utterly unsurprising but still disappointing, although you could interpret the two mums as belonging to the same family. I'm pleased that it was the mummy going to work in her car, even after all these months of me not going to work. I think having had work I'm doing on Mat Leave and my deliberate policy of saying to him 'I'm going to do some work now' has helped with this. I'm amused to learn that you can postpone labour by going in to work. ETA: Also highly amused to gather that one fiddles around at work, but it doesn't matter. And delighted that he thinks the birth of babies warrants clapping.
I'm interested in how much of the third one is quotes from songs and stories. And love him enjoying playing with language through rhyme. I'm going to be very sad when he stops doing this.
*This is not quite as bizarre a request as it might seem. One of his current favourite games is to turf all the clean nappies out of the box in which they are stored in his room and hide in it himself, then command you to think that it's somebody other than him hiding there. LB is often enlisted as having opinions about who it is too, sometimes correct, sometimes incorrect.
The three examples that follow all took place within a couple of days and were all while he was playing with his toy cars. In the first one he was interacting with me a bit more, but mostly he seems to be chatting to himself and just checking in now and again that I am still paying some attention.
"That where the petrol comes in. That where you can see them. This way. Go that way. Happy [nonsense. Heavy breathing]. Crash, bang, wallop, bang. I'm trying to get the car out. Now they got out .The car's outside. Do you see them through that little gap? [indicating, I think, imaginary people inside the car through the side window] You can't see them through that gap [pointing to gap into boot]. A racing car. Shall I... Shall we hid it? Where shall I hid it? I know. Where shall I hid it? [I suggest 'under that drape?'] No, I can't see under there. [I suggest under LB's seat, he puts it there] Where is the car? I've lost some of the cars. What will Daddy say if we have lost some of the cars?! What will he say?! [Me, laughing, 'I don't know'] Somebody needs to know! Does Daddy know? [Me, laughing, 'probably'] Can we go upstairs and pretend there's Daddy in the nappy box?* Come on, come on. Don't bring those things [indicating the pen and paper with which I am noting this]."
"[Sad voice and a bit of a pout] The red car is looking for its friend. Where is its friend? It's looking in the caravan. I'm helping it find its friend. I hid its friend under LB's seat. Here it is. The tractor is looking for its Daddy. And it's looking for its big brother. I'm just taking off the other mummies and daddies and brothers. I'm looking for the little baby tractor. That's the mum and that's a mum and that's the brother of the tractor. I found it. But we haven't found the baby. They've got two babies! And here's the mummy one and there's the daddy one and here's the big brother. And here's one of the uncles and aunts come to visit. The mummy's going to work now in the car. The work is in here. Fiddling around at work but never mind. Look at the mum. The mum is trying to drive her car out of work. Now she's coming back. Look at the two babies getting born. They are just sitting. The mumdaddy are waiting til they are born. The mummy went to work cos then the babies won't be born. The tractors are waiting for the babies to be born. And the train is. And the caravan. This is a baby too. They've got three babies. This baby has been born but the other two aren't. Now one of them is born but the other one isn't. Now they are all born. Now all the people are clapping because all the three babies are born. This one is clapping as well. One of the people are clapping from in here. There's the radiator. That's the small, big brother truck, it says. So it's parking there. The racing car has still got its friend, but its friend has driven off."
"[Singing] Play the music, moo, moo, moo
[Speaking] Shake it all about. That's how the story end
[Singing] Play the music, damp, damp, damp. Then we'll play some more. Seesaw, Margery Daw, Jenny shall have a new dense of war.
[Speaking] No, no, go away you bold bad spider. Tell me about when you were a little girl and something sting you when you were learning to swim [a favourite story. I respond stallingly with 'mmm' while I write this down, but he loses interest and carries on talking to himself]
[Singing] Pena pena. Seesaw, Margery Daw, Jonny has [nonsense] pencil drawer. Buggery baw. [hums the tune of 'play the music']
[Speaking] And the other one was Ted. Does the boot open? Does the boot open of their car? No it doesn't open. Do you see, it's half open. It opened completely open. They have left the door open. They maked the boot shut again. They they they are trying to open shut that door. Now they sut that door, now they trying to open the other door. They got the boot open while they're driving. You have to have your feet up while you're driving
[Singing] The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, the wheels on the bus go round and round all day long. The wipers on the bus go swish, swish, swish; swish, swish, swish; swish, swish, swish; the wipers on the bus go swish, swish, swish, all day long."
What do I observe of his interior life, apart from the terrifying patriarchal authority figure his father clearly represents ('what *will* Daddy say if we have lost some of the cars?!)?
Well I'm somewhat reassured to realise that he personifies and peoples the motor vehicles so much. They are without a doubt his favourite of his own toys and he always makes a beeline for other people's when we are out. I don't like this for both green and gender stereotyping reasons, but I feel a bit better if he's using them to think about families, friendship and the birth of babies (this is an observation of my feelings, I'm not saying my feelings are necessarily right or justified. Although obviously they feel that way to me).
I already knew that he had picked up normative family structures, which is utterly unsurprising but still disappointing, although you could interpret the two mums as belonging to the same family. I'm pleased that it was the mummy going to work in her car, even after all these months of me not going to work. I think having had work I'm doing on Mat Leave and my deliberate policy of saying to him 'I'm going to do some work now' has helped with this. I'm amused to learn that you can postpone labour by going in to work. ETA: Also highly amused to gather that one fiddles around at work, but it doesn't matter. And delighted that he thinks the birth of babies warrants clapping.
I'm interested in how much of the third one is quotes from songs and stories. And love him enjoying playing with language through rhyme. I'm going to be very sad when he stops doing this.
*This is not quite as bizarre a request as it might seem. One of his current favourite games is to turf all the clean nappies out of the box in which they are stored in his room and hide in it himself, then command you to think that it's somebody other than him hiding there. LB is often enlisted as having opinions about who it is too, sometimes correct, sometimes incorrect.