I'm in the throws of reading Seabiscuit. I'm not the nibble-at-a-book-in-the-evening type. I'm the ignore-the-children-the-lasagna-is-burning-shove-off-because-I'm-reading type. So, I'm not much mood for a long post, because I'm ready to flop on the bed and finish the book.
I'm learning about the training of horses. A good rider and trainer can look in eye of the beast and see hidden strength and deep wisdom. They know when to use the whip and when to feed them a carrot. They know when the horses need to go at full gallop and when then need to hold back. They know that some horses are confident and others need to have their self-confidence bolstered. Some horses just don't like dirt kicked in their faces.
Jonah burst into tears yesterday when I shouted out the backdoor that it was time for dinner. Yes, it was a bummer, but it shouldn't have resulted in all out bawling. Something was up. Steve and I talked about it after they went to sleep. Maybe he's fighting off a cold. Maybe he's been feeling neglected, because all our energy has been focused on helping Ian learn to talk. Of course, the kid can't just tell us what's wrong; he probably doesn't even know what's bugging himself. We have to look into his eyes and guess. Perhaps some time without his high maintenance brother over the weekend will do the trick.
It's even more complicated with Ian, because he can't talk at all. He's often frustrated. When I picked him up from school today, he was in his teacher's arms sobbing. His teacher said that he was trying to tell her something, but didn't know what. What's wrong, Ian? He was making the sign for drinking. Do you want something to drink? OK, let's get some water. The water calmed him down, but it was only later that I figured out what he was saying. He was actually making the sign for hot. Last week, we had a candle in a cupcake for him, because it was his birthday. He wanted to blow out the candles again. Poor kid. I hope he learns to talk soon.
I'm off to finish my book, because I could sure use some pointers with reading the eyes of small children. My track record is pretty lousy of late.