Don't yike it, and other feelings

Jacob gets more communicative each day, and is getting pretty good at expressing himself. He points out happy and sad when we read books, and he’s even starting to talk about his own feelings.

On Sunday, we went to a small circus that was in town for a couple of weeks. While Jacob liked the pre-show hot dog, that was about it. The crush of the crowd waiting to get into the venue prompted full on Jacob red alert: wide eyes, left thumb squarely in his mouth, right hand anxiously fiddling his right ear.

“Wanna go home,” he said as we waited to get in. We appeased him with promises of fun, horseys and doggies galore.

We got into our seats, and the thumb-sucking/ear fiddling went into overdrive.

“Don’t yike it.”
“What sweetie?”
“Don’t yike circus.”

And there you have it folks. We probably should have gone home then, but we’d paid $34 for our tickets, and pushed onward in the hope that the live animals would make up for the masses of strangers. I held him tight and he seemed to enjoy the horse, the dogs, and the trapeze artist way up high. We made it to intermission, at which point it was useless to put our kid through the torture that is a small circus.

When Jacob was a baby, it was pretty easy. Crying meant there was a need: for food, changing, comfort. And while he’s been a talker for a while, this was the first time that he really verbalized a specific feeling about something. As a WASP who has spent much time, effort and money on therapy to learn what a feeling is and how to express it, I was so proud of my boy. But there is another part that’s like, what now?

Having a baby is tiring, but fairly straightforward. Raising a child is some scary shit. The more they verbalize, the better it is because you know what they need or want, but you also have to guide them and help them and not let yourself get in the way.

Do I pull Jacob out of every scenario that scares him? Do I tell him to suck it up because we paid good money for these seats and you are going to have a good time, dammit?! Yesterday, I wanted to leave as soon as the self-soothing body language kicked in. But he did enjoy some of it, and I want him to be able to feel fear as much as he can feel joy because unfortunately, you can’t decide to only feel the good feelings. Hopefully I’m doing the right thing. At least when he starts going to therapy for his fear of clowns, I’ll have a record of where it all began.