The last time I wrote something on this blog, lil Isaiah was a cute little toddler. Today, after all these months that I did not care enough to write anything on this blog, Isaiah is a little boy. He is still kind of cute though, to my eyes at least, but he is now a nice little boy and not a baby anymore.
No, he has not gained enough weight to please the doctor nor is he the tallest or fastest boy in class, so how do I know this?
Well, yesterday we watched 'The Lion King' together and when king Mufasa fell off the cliff and died, my son was in tears. Not just welled up, but properly sobbing and the moment I held him close, he was an emotional wreck! He couldn't bear the sight of little Simba running from home in tears. I tried to console him but he was unhappy with the turn of events. He sobbed his way to sleep and with his limited EQ even mumbled something about not having his own son to take care of!
In spite of ruining his bedtime, I felt happy within and even a bit proud that my little boy could relate to that scene. I remember crying during the same scene when I watched the lion king in my teens and I felt I could connect with him better and that made me feel happy.
As a toddler he would cry for milk, or chocolates or for objects that he had no interest of ever playing with, but this was different. He cried not because he wanted something or was told not to do something. He cried because he was genuinely upset.
He had shown similar sentiments before and sometimes spoke about being sad but it is a bit of craving attention and is just a part of growing up. Guess this streak of sorrow runs in the family and I mean that in a nice way. As a great someone said; 'true bliss can only be found in absolute sorrow... 'or something to that effect.
While watching other movies with scenes where someone, usually children, get hurt we have seen him being disturbed. Certain movies and scenes, I agree, can be very disturbing to children.but No, we do not get offended or criticize people who make such movies, we just distract our kid. When an inappropriate scene pops up we ask him to bring something from the next room that is placed somewhere he cannot reach.
I am someone who can be easily brought to tears by stuff on television. The garden variety death scene with close shots of relatives crying aloud does not work on me but show me some genuine trail of sorrow that I can empathize with and I am done for. Scenes depicting courage, honesty or even despair can open my teary butterfly valves.
'Be a man, don't cry'. Nope, I sometimes cry and I can't help it. Neither do I subscribe to the whole ,'crying is good', 'real men cry', sought of metro-sexual outlook; but to roll those tears in the privacy of my own eyes while making sure no one can see me cry is a well deserved comfort while watching those scenes and should be seen as a manner of appreciation to the folks who created that bit of television.
So I did not tell my boy not to cry or use the age-old adage that 'boys do not cry'. I thought it was fine for now and once he grows older we will tone down the intensity a bit and make him sober enough to gel in with a world where 'boys do not cry'. For now, let him cry.
So that is my little big boy with whom I can have an interesting conversation with, someone I can discuss things with. Now I ask him for opinions on all manner of silly things and spoil him with overtly stupid explanations that he just cannot comprehend. Most of all, at times I see him as a nice little person with whom I can hang out or go on a drive with.Tantrums along the way can be disastrous but the trick is to treat him like an adult and listen to those lovely but often irritating rants and somehow, things are more pleasant when it is just the two of us.
This lovely little song was suggested by my dear sister,
No, he has not gained enough weight to please the doctor nor is he the tallest or fastest boy in class, so how do I know this?
Well, yesterday we watched 'The Lion King' together and when king Mufasa fell off the cliff and died, my son was in tears. Not just welled up, but properly sobbing and the moment I held him close, he was an emotional wreck! He couldn't bear the sight of little Simba running from home in tears. I tried to console him but he was unhappy with the turn of events. He sobbed his way to sleep and with his limited EQ even mumbled something about not having his own son to take care of!
In spite of ruining his bedtime, I felt happy within and even a bit proud that my little boy could relate to that scene. I remember crying during the same scene when I watched the lion king in my teens and I felt I could connect with him better and that made me feel happy.
As a toddler he would cry for milk, or chocolates or for objects that he had no interest of ever playing with, but this was different. He cried not because he wanted something or was told not to do something. He cried because he was genuinely upset.
He had shown similar sentiments before and sometimes spoke about being sad but it is a bit of craving attention and is just a part of growing up. Guess this streak of sorrow runs in the family and I mean that in a nice way. As a great someone said; 'true bliss can only be found in absolute sorrow... 'or something to that effect.
While watching other movies with scenes where someone, usually children, get hurt we have seen him being disturbed. Certain movies and scenes, I agree, can be very disturbing to children.but No, we do not get offended or criticize people who make such movies, we just distract our kid. When an inappropriate scene pops up we ask him to bring something from the next room that is placed somewhere he cannot reach.
I am someone who can be easily brought to tears by stuff on television. The garden variety death scene with close shots of relatives crying aloud does not work on me but show me some genuine trail of sorrow that I can empathize with and I am done for. Scenes depicting courage, honesty or even despair can open my teary butterfly valves.
'Be a man, don't cry'. Nope, I sometimes cry and I can't help it. Neither do I subscribe to the whole ,'crying is good', 'real men cry', sought of metro-sexual outlook; but to roll those tears in the privacy of my own eyes while making sure no one can see me cry is a well deserved comfort while watching those scenes and should be seen as a manner of appreciation to the folks who created that bit of television.
So I did not tell my boy not to cry or use the age-old adage that 'boys do not cry'. I thought it was fine for now and once he grows older we will tone down the intensity a bit and make him sober enough to gel in with a world where 'boys do not cry'. For now, let him cry.
So that is my little big boy with whom I can have an interesting conversation with, someone I can discuss things with. Now I ask him for opinions on all manner of silly things and spoil him with overtly stupid explanations that he just cannot comprehend. Most of all, at times I see him as a nice little person with whom I can hang out or go on a drive with.Tantrums along the way can be disastrous but the trick is to treat him like an adult and listen to those lovely but often irritating rants and somehow, things are more pleasant when it is just the two of us.
This lovely little song was suggested by my dear sister,