in the now

Now that our youngest is in toddlerhood, I find myself quantifying his development. Of course, I'm an educator, but I'm a Montessorian and, more importantly, his mother--at the very least, I should be qualifying his vast development. His older brother and sister were in school at his age, so each time they came home, their developmental strides were noticeable (due to the 8-10 hour hiatus from home). Number three is a stay-at-home-bro with two remotely, working parents, so we have more contact time with him. What a tremendous blessing it is to have this time--especially while I write this, and he is sprinkling the floor with his rice and beans :) The dark side to this venture has manifested as impatience.

I know, I know... I'm breaking the Montessori-creed: Thou shalt recognize that each child (even your own) is different! It's hard though! He's 18 months old, said to be completely healthy and thriving but not walking--#1 and #2 we're almost sprinting by 15 months old, and that was "late." As always, I suddenly changed my tune as I was graced by the Montessori Angels of Wisdom--that don't exist. Here's the rundown:

Monday, November 8, 2021:

• (Lucrative) Laundry Day: #3 crawls into the laundry room and sees the shoe rack. He starts to match all of the shoes, while practicing opening and closing the velcro of various pairs. He did this for 15 minutes! I had to put laundry on hold and just watch him interact with his world.
• Folding Party (a.k.a. folding laundry): I fold laundry and separate clothes from the basket into piles. He takes clothes from Mount St. Ridiculous Pile (literally 3 feet of laundry pouring from the basket) and creates his own pile, identifying whose sock, undies, shirt, etc. he's holding. He even took the dryer sheets, coughing into and wiping his nose with them.
• Playtime: He's been throwing the biggest tantrums when he doesn't get his way: 1)He spits, sounding like a motorcycle revving its engine, 2) he scrunches his face, showing complete disgust, and 3) he throws himself ever so carefully (but enough to make a thud) on the ground, rolling to a position of thumb in the mouth and hand on the ear, moments later. BUT yesterday, I watched and stayed by his side. When he revved his engine, I said, "You're upset. Do you need help? I can help you," helping him to reattach the things he detached. After several back-and-fourths with this conversation, he eliminated step three from the tantrums, going through 1 and 2, while looking at me until I helped him. He's learning how to effectively communicate!

I could keep going, but I'm trying to focus in on the child (my child) I see rather than wish for the things he isn't. When I take these moments, I better see the multi-faceted, brilliant, intelligent, and dangerously strong toddler right before my very eyes.