Slinging Arrows

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Little Man is taking the age of four by storm.  After having some really big feelings around that time he has started to somewhat find his footing again; his feelings are still big, but his reactions are starting to very slowly become more proportionate.  However, in an attempt to react intellectually rather than physically he has started to rely on his vocabulary to make his discontent known.  In the hierarchy of harsh roasts of others, young kids can absolutely hold their own.

The latest weapon in Little Man's arsenal, like many his age, is to hit where he thinks it will hurt the most -- "You're not my best friend anymore.  I don't love you anymore."  While I obviously realize the intent is not genuine, it's hard not to feel the sting when he thinks he has made his point.  Recently on a night when Husband was away and I covered bedtime duties, we had a rough go.  As I helped him regulate by cradling him in my lap, he mentioned missing Daddy.  I asked him if that is why he was having a hard time, and he said, "No, it's because you're here."  I'm not going to lie and say that one didn't hurt because golly it did.

The need for connection is strong for all, and to Little Man it is both a strength and a crutch.  On a recent outing -- the same afternoon he made his feelings for Husband over me known -- there were a group of older boys playing nearby that he joined on the periphery, but eventually they moved on to a spot that wasn't safe for Little Man so I asked him to hold back.  With a quivering lip he looked at me and said, "But I don't want to be alone!"  I completely understood the sentiment, so along with the recoil of his momentary rejection I had to shake my head at his ironic nature; being alone is hard, but making someone think they will be alone is power presumably harnessed.

As Little Man does, he quickly forgot his words and was ready to be my friend again in no time; in fact, as I write part of this he is snuggled up by my side playing with an old calculator (aka his "computer" -- whenever he is furiously typing in numbers, he insists I open my computer too).  He is happily narrating every thought that comes to mind and is alternating between wanting me to respond and reminding me, "I'm talking to myself".  I realize all of this is developmentally normal, but it's hard to determine normal when I've never been through this before.  Besides, there is a difference between logically understanding and emotionally accepting.  Just like all other stages this, too, shall pass.  I just hope this part moves on a little more quickly.

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