I was reading a friend’s blog this morning, wherein she mentions briefly that she develops temporary narcolepsy when forced to role play with her son. It made me laugh out loud and got me thinking… It’s different for every parent I know. Friend K does not role play or host puppet theatre. Friend AK does not play Duplo (rather, she has declared it a “bonding experience” for her son and his father… nice one!). My sister feels physically ill when forced to play cars. Same goes for my mom. You can see them lethargically pushing a car forward or backward, but even in the face of Noah’s enthusiasm, it only lasts about five minutes before they are suggesting something else, anything else. So just because your child (or nephew. or grandson) likes to do something, in no way means you do. Fair enough. Sadly, it’s the same the other way around. I love to draw, paint, model clay, craft. The glue gun is my friend. I have boxes and boxes, shelves upon shelves of crafting supplies. But Noah does not enjoy crafting. Or drawing. Or colouring. Or glueing. He likes Play-Doh, so that’s nice, but… it’s different, you know?
For a while I got my fix by inviting over Noah’s friends to craft. So sad. So pathetic. “Come on over, B! Whatcha doing this afternoon, S? We’ll glue stuff! And use scissors! And colour! Because you are the kind of child who likes to do that sort of thing! What, Noah? You’re not interested? Go set up train tracks in the playroom then, your friend and I have canvases to paint!” These days I’m just leaving well enough alone. I’ll suggest it, usually in lieu of making gifts for the family, but that’s all. I can’t force him.
There’s still Lil G. Just gentle suggestion. Like tucking the glue gun into bed with him at night. He’ll be that child. Oh yes, he will.