Another day in lockdown… another twelve hours to kill with a preschooler. Another twelve hours of trying to entice him away from train play. But I imagine another eleven and three quarter hours of playing with train, talking about trains and watching trains.
Yesterday, I decided to throw caution to my micro-managing, perfect outcome ways. Give him all the stuff and let him loose. Let him create. Let him mess-make. Let him go wild in the proverbial aisles.
I recently had a massive box of Easter themed goodies arrive from ‘The Works.’ It brought me the same level of joy as a pair of shiny, patent stilettos used to. Stickers. Foam stampers. Golden eggs. What’s not to coo over?
So to lure the little man away from the choo choo of his latest locomotive I set up a table of Easter joy.
Cute carrots. Patterned eggs. Chalk pens. Felt pens. Wooden eggs. Stickers and diamantés. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get stuck in?
My child. My child didn’t want to get stuck in.
I left it there. ‘He’ll not be able to resist surely.’
But resist he did. For once I’d made a solemn oath to myself that I wouldn’t get involved. That I wouldn’t try to make him colour between the lines. That he could make as much carnage as preschool possible. But no.
Even with a few cheeky additions. Some letters. An egg template. Nah! Nope. No way José.
All around my table of Easter rejection lay the carnage. From Lego skateparks to boats, he opted for anything but my eggstravaganza.
Rather than take it as a personal slight, I’ve decided to keep it to one side and unleash it on him another time.
I’m all for appealing to their interests but how do you get a preschooler to diversify? How do you unvelcro them from their one true passion: trains? We read books covering everything from space to spiders; dinos to dandelions. He watches a wealth of television to ignite enthusiasm in things other than locomotion.
I long for post-Covid days when we can once again get out and adventure. This year was supposed to be about exploring all the museums and experiencing all we could of London and its surrounds before he started schools. It was about developing his curiosity, fostering questions and giving him learning experiences.
Those plans and resources were taken out of our hands. So I’ve needed to get creative. And I’ve accepted it. Easter just hasn’t grabbed him. Or maybe I needed to entice him in grander ways: trails of eggs to follow, bits of puzzles to match up, more sensory fun dunking in slime.
Either way. I tried. I failed. And I move on. Yesterday: Easter. Today: Space and the universe. Today I won.
You are one of the few super creative mummies I know. You’re brilliant. I was never as creative when mine where small, there was a lot of pepper pig and that’s all I’m saying. It’s frustrating that we can’t always entice them to do what we want but you have to let them lead the way. They are very small people and they know best.
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I like to unleash the teacher on the poor little bugger.
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