One of my three-year-old's favorite PBS shows is called Dinosaur Train. Funny little mixing of centuries, isn't it?? Well, yesterday I walked in right as the show was ending and was ready to turn it off when Dr. Scott the Paleontologist did the hard part for me. He announced that it was now time to turn off the TV, go outside, and "make your own discoveries!"
I borrowed a little of Dr. Scott's enthusiasm and repeated the same words as I flicked the off button. I braced myself for the usual whining -- "Just one more show!!!" but it didn't come...
Instead, sweet and smart 3 y.o. looked at me with excitement in his eyes and said, "Yeah! Let's go make our own discoveries!" and then as an afterthought, he said, "Mom, what's a discovery?"
I like words. I am an etymologist at heart. That doesn't always mean I'm able to explain off-the-cuff a word like discovery. And I was under pressure to preserve the thrill-factor!
Here's how I answered -- both in word and in action:
"Oh, Reed," I said with awe in my voice as I grabbed his hand -- btw, I love three-year-old hands, even though they are, generally speaking, grimy with discovery -- and together we walked to the back door. "Oh, Reed! Discovery is looking around with eyes wide open. Maybe you see things you have already seen and maybe you notice things brand new. Then... Then..."
I wanted to build the anticipation. We sat down to put on his shoes. "Then..."
"You think and you wonder and you asking questions and you want to know and learn and -- " (using my best mysterious voice) -- " you solve mysteries and expose secrets!"
"Wow, Mom!"
I couldn't have asked for a better verbal response... but his non-verbal response was even better.
He took hold of his baby sister's hand. He led her out the door and showed her a lady bug.
Happy day!
No comments:
Post a Comment