The Volume Has Broken

The Volume Has Broken

Is it just a fact that the volume control of a three year old is non-existent?  Or am I just lucky to be experiencing such deafening bouts of play?

Since turning three I’m fairly sure that Little Bear has become much more animated and, let’s put this politely, passionate about his play.  There are lots of ninjas, super villains, and baddies, and to counter them are goodies armed with lightsabres and super-batman (my personal favourite) with his ability to knock down anyone in his path – both literally and metaphorically.

And with these characters comes “The Voice”.  “The Voice” is a snarl, a growl, and gritted teeth, and it’s all played out at cinematic volumes. Quite frankly, it’s a little disconcerting, and nearly impossible to understand at times.

Where did the quiet child who would use squeaky voices in play go?  Where did the child who would sit quietly and build go? And where oh where did my earplugs go?!?!

In truth, I know where that little boy is.  He’s still here.  He’s still shining through most of the day.  I know that this new form of play is just him expressing himself and modelling what he sees elsewhere.  And I know that, in reality, we only lose the volume control for small portions of the day.  But those are the times that stick aren’t they?

You forget the hour you spent together quietly building with lego before pre-school, you forget the unprompted “thank yous”, the unasked for kisses, the intelligent and witty comments.  You forget that he’s just a three old, doing three year old things, at three year old volumes.

Little Bear, I’m sorry I get cross with your loud and passionate play.  I’m sorry that I forget the amazing things you do. And I’m sorry neighbours, the sound proofing is on order!

Hello Mr Shopkeeper

Hello Mr Shopkeeper

Little Bear has enjoyed imaginary play for some time now and before Christmas we spent a lot of time pretending to fly on a sleigh and deliver presents, not to mention the huge number of restaurants we had to visit.  One of his Christmas presents was therefore the perfect accompaniment to this type of play…a till!

It’s safe to say he loves it and will happily play “shops” morning, noon, and night.  His imagination has no limits, he creates stories and scenarios that keep the game going and going…and going…and going…

And here lies the problem!  I always thought I had quite a good attention span for this type of play, it’s something I definitely remember enjoying as a child, and I loved it when Little Bear started to explore it.  I imagined the two of us happily creating our own stories, playing for hours.  And yet now, whenever he says, “Let’s play shops!”, a little piece of me slowly starts silently sobbing and I reach for my phone as a sneaky relief when I’ve sent him to the back of the shop for some obscure item!

It’s just hard to maintain the level of enthusiasm that he requires.  It’s hard to continually think of new things to buy.  It’s hard to drive my imaginary car and imaginary baby round in a circle and keep forgetting petrol/cheese/a trumpet before going to Mr Shopkeeper who apparently has everything and who sells everything for £5!  It’s either a bargain or a rip off, there’s no in between.

And to cap it all off, we had some stupid idea to try dry January, so I can’t even ask Mr Shopkeeper for a bottle of wine!