Moral development of a 3-year-old

Is it John, or is it Spiderman? All I know for sure is that his shirt talks, and it says, "It's web-slinging time."

I know that kids go through standard stages of moral development. But I do wish that I had paid more attention in that developmental psychology course that I took 20 years ago at MSU. Now, when John begins to do a new something outrageous, I am never quite sure if it is just a sign that he is entering a new developmental phase, or if it is really just because he is "being John."

His current thing is lying. He can do it without batting an eye. He often does this when adults ask him questions - he just makes up the answer that seems the most interesting to him, I guess. Of course, I often have to explain this to adults since they otherwise look at me in confusion based on his answers. Recently, a generous person to whom I had to report, "He's lying" just smiled and said, "At this age, we call it pretending." Hmm, I wonder at what age we outgrow that? If one decides to follow a career in politics, then apparently, never.

Today, I was trying to tell John how proud I was of him for something he had accomplished. "Wow, that was great! I can't believe you did that. You must be really big. How old are you? Are you... five?" Without missing a beat, John calmly answered, "Yes!"

John and Helen

John loves being a big brother. And he loves Helen. He really does! Given his rambunctious personality, I keep expecting him to get bored with her, but he really hasn't. Okay, he is sometimes a bit over-enthusiastic in touching her, but he adores her and wants to do the right thing.



Proud big brother (Helen is 1 day old).


In the morning when he wakes up, she is the first person that he goes looking for. He will breeze right past Jeremy or I now as he seeks his sister out for a good-morning kiss. If he can't find her, he gets very peeved with us.

John crawled into our bed with Helen (1 week old) and kicked us out.

Today I had her sitting up, in her carseat carrier, by the table as we ate breakfast. John was sitting at the table on a barstool, for a bit of extra height. In the midst of his meal, he hopped up, dragged the stool away, and pulled up a regular chair. I asked him why. "Helen wants to see me better. I need to be lower."



John is all wet because he climbed right in the tub to help with Helen's bath. (2-15-2011) 



He gets very upset when Helen cries. Of course, I can hear her, but can't always attend to her as quickly as she (or he) might like. John will come running up to me saying, "Helen is crying. You need to feed her right now!" (Actually, all the kids have learned this idea - if the baby is crying, she must be hungry. That makes it Mom's problem, so fix it!)

Sometimes I feel like he completely ignores everything I say to him, but today he proved that at least he is listening (even if never acknowledging). He announced proudly to me: "I gave Helen a kiss on her cheek...but it was a gentle kiss! I didn't leave any slobber on her - see?"

Helen is 6 days old.

The best laid plans of 3-year-olds

John: Mommy, why do James and I have a bed like this, in bunks?

Mom: Because that is a good way to fit in lots of beds in not much space.

John: Hey, I have an idea ... we could move Maggie's bed into my room. Then we could move your bed into my room, too.

Mom: Hmm, so we could all be together? But I don't know if all the beds would fit in this room.

John: Yes, it would. We can put your bed right here, and Maggie's bed over here.

Mom: Then where would we put the baby's bed?

John: The new baby will sleep with me in my bed. I will take care of her.

Mom: That is nice of you.

John: Yeah. I will take care of her. I will teach her how to run and how to jump and how to fight. How to fight with swords.

Warning...somewhat off-color post

Just now, as I was sitting in the kitchen, I heard John's cheerful voice, in a tone of discovery, calling to me from the bathroom upstairs.

"Mommy! Did you know that if you point your penis up the pee will shoot all over the house?"

Thank goodness this appears to have been a thought experiment only. Please, John, stick to simulations rather than labwork for your research.

Catching up on the kids

I carry a small notebook in my purse. It feels so matronly of me, maybe because my mother always did it. But I am now a "woman of a certain age," and I understand why she did it. I hate carrying a big purse around, but now I really need room for things like a notebook, because I can't remember a thing.

My notebook is a hodgepodge - Christmas shopping lists, websites a friend mentions, contact info for the person we are headed to visit, questions to ask at the next doctor's visit. But my favorite, and definitely most important, use for the notebook is to write down what the kids say. I forget things so quickly, and some of this I really prefer to capture.

Now, the trick is finding time to ever translate those treasures from the kids to this blog, my more permanent memory. So, the point of this entry is to catch up on a number of those. Therefore, I have included approximate dates, if I have them.

The Logic of Youth (December 28, 2009)
We were driving on a long car trip. James  (age 8) says, out of the blue, "Mom when I grow up, I want my license plate to say "I-BE-APE."

"Oh. Um, okay." [Long pause, then I continue.] "Um, why?"

"Because that's what I want to be. And I couldn't fit, 'I want to be a gorilla.'"

John, Out of the Blue...(March 25,2010)
"Mom? When I grow up, I'm going to be a superhero. With a cape."

Maggie Works Out the Ways of the World (March 25, 2010)
"Mom, are boy captains and girl captains on ships called different names?" (I have no idea. Either as to the answer, or as to why you would ask the question.)

A short time later, Maggie chose to explain some things to me instead of query me. Maybe she decided I wasn't much good as a source of info after I blew the last one.

"Mom, I think I know what started World War I. The pilgrims were slaves and came here on the Mayflower and the people who were slaving them followed and started fighting." (Ahh, now that reassures me that all that school tuition has been well worth it.)

Life is Hard (September 2010)
"Mom?" It is John's voice from the back of the van, in a plaintive, even whiny tone.

"Yes?" I respond.

"I ... I ... I wish I could get more bigger."

"You will, soon," I reassure him soothingly.

He replies in a near panic, "But I can't wait that long!"

(Maybe this is related to being left behind when the older kids get out of the car for school. More likely, it is about his frequent questioning about how old he has to be to drive a car. Or a motorcycle.)

Negotiations (September, 2010)
Maggie and John love to play pretend together, now. We were driving in the car, and Maggie was proudly (vainly?) wearing a very fancy dress - red velvet with white fur trim. I overheard this exchange between them.

Maggie: John, let's pretend that I'm Mrs. Santa and you're little Santa, and Dad is ... Ho Ho Ho... Santa Claus.
 John:  NO! (Pointing at Jeremy and with a tone of "I've got a better idea") Let's say he's a bad guy. He's a storm trooper. But he's on our side. He won't hurt us, but he has a missile.

Things that make you say "Hmm..."

I overheard John (3 yrs) say today, "Daddy, if I were not a person, I would want to be an astronaut, like you."

Having parents lead to psychotherapy requirements

I usually stop by the kids' beds to re-tuck them in on my way to bed. Tonight, I found John on the floor right by his door. He had been sent back to bed uncountable times. Apparently, he really just wanted to get closer to Mom before he fell asleep. I guess he finally compromised. He dragged his pillow and blanket over by the door, but just out of sight around the corner from the parental view from the kitchen. He didn't want to be caught out of bed and sent back again. This will clearly be an example when he is an adult of how his parents caused him untold mental anguish resulting in years of psychotherapy.

Speaking of parent-caused mental anguish...

James was completely uncovered, but with the blankets twisted all around his feet. I attempted to gently extricate him. As I was pulling up the covers over him, he stirred a bit, then woke up enough to tell me, "Mom, I don't really like it when you do that. It makes me have bad dreams."

"Hmm?" I softly queried, wondering if he was even awake.

"When you move my covers, it makes me have nightmares. The zombies were chasing me."

I suppose I don't really have any way to prove that tucking him in doesn't bring the zombies. Poor guy.

Follow up from a few days later:
He must be in a dream-frenzied state lately. Jeremy picked him up out of bed to wake him for school a day or two later and he complained drowsily, "Dad! You made me drop by groceries!"

Development of toddler gender identification

John, more than the first two kids, has kept me entertained as he pursues the "Who am I?" questions of the toddler world.

He loves to parade about the house in my high heels, draped in Maggie's fancy beads and bling. He likes to play baby dolls with Maggie on occasion. But he also likes to run full-tilt through the house shouting, "Bang, bang, I shoot you! You are dead!" He also likes to beat things to a pulp with a hammer. (No, we don't give him real hammers. The toy ones - wood or plastic - seem capable of enough damage. There are holes or gouges in most of the house and its furniture now.)

Today, as I picked him up to put him on the changing table, I remarked on how big he is getting (heavy to lift, for sure!). He stretched out as long as he could, and proudly said, "I am getting big like a Daddy!" But other days, he is not so sure about this. We have had some conversations more like:

"James will grow up like a Daddy?" (Yes, John, someday.)
"Maggie will grow up like a Mommy?" (Yes, John, someday.)
"John will grow up like a Mommy?" (No, John will grow up like a Daddy.)
"I want to be a MOMMY!"

On these days, no amount of arguing will convince him otherwise, so I no longer even try. I just tell him, "Well, we will have to wait and see." I suppose I don't necessarily even know what he means with his questions - I of course assume looking like a man or a woman, but who knows what his toddler brain associates with these terms. Maybe on the day he is asking, he means, "I want to grow up like a Mommy who drives me to my swimming lessons, not like a Daddy who makes me go to bed."

John: the future car salesman or convict?

It is scary how much a two-and-a-half-year-old does, and doesn't, understand about social interactions. It also seems that his moral development is ahead of his years, and maybe not in a good way. To understand this verbal exchange, you need to know two things. (1) "Firetrucks" is one of John's current favorite video tapes, and (2) Jeremy and I were standing right next to each other during this entire exchange.

John: Mom, can I watch Firetrucks?

Mom: No, John. Finish your breakfast.

[Thoughtful pause.]

John: Dad, can I watch Firetrucks?

Dad: What did Mommy just say?

John [in a petulant voice]: She said no!

Dad: Then, no. Eat your breakfast.

[Longer, more thoughtful pause.]

John: Mom, can I watch Firetrucks?

Mom: No!

John [in an offended, slightly wheedling tone]: Dad said I could!

When science beckons, you must answer the call

Maggie emerged from a quiet hour of playing in her room and announced, "Mom, I want to do an experiment. I need to have... 4 big blocks and 10 popsicle sticks."

"Okay..."

"And the experiment is, I want to test what it would be like if we didn't have joints."

A few minutes later, she returned with the supplies and wanted to know how she could attach them over her elbows, knees, and fingers.

Sibling love

John walked by Maggie saying "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Maggie asked what he was shooting at. I couldn't quite catch more of his answer than "Blah blah blah blah," but Maggie apparently understood and clarified his response, "Oh, you were attacking the bad guys that were invading my room?"

"Yeah!" was John's enthusiastic confirmation of this. Maggie responded in an earnest (if sappy voice), "I love you so much. You are a good little brother. No matter what happens, I love you."

Existential questions

Conversation between Jeremy and John while changing a diaper:

Daddy, you're a daddy.

Yes.

And Mommy is a mommy.

Yes.

And Maggie is a girl?

Yes.

And James is a boy?

Yes.

[Thoughtful pause from John.] Then what am I?

You're a boy, too.

Oh. ... I want to be a Daddy, like you.