I felt so blessed to take a recent trip to UT. It was a power-packed three weeks, and I'll detail some of the fun in more posts very soon, but to begin I'll document our travel.
Even the hardest-core travelers looked up long enough to smile at this sight. I loved watching David take Alina by the hand in full responsibility of helping her. He was busy looking for the seat number, completely oblivious that the moment was magical enough for each passenger to look up and see that something special was going on between brother and sister.
And just as much, I loved watching Alina fully trust David in this completely new experience with strange people all around and cramped quarters. She was easily going along, taking it all in as long as her brother had her hand to help her out.
My kids have logged so many miles on planes. I should try to estimate that number for each member of our family, because I think we would be surprised at the number of miles we have flown.
David was invited to inspect the cockpit of three different flights. Thank you, kind captains, for letting my button loving boy ask his questions.
More than happy to have met Charlie the Captain and Charlie the Co-Captain.
Lots of questions, but even more 6-year old theorizing about how everything works. David is a listener and a talker. He'll intently listen to how something works, then give his own take on it, which usually has a few imaginary ideas laced in to basic understanding of mechanics. Not much escapes him. I told him about tail winds and head winds while we were flying, and he came up with the idea that if he built a plane, it would be designed to put up the wing flaps when a tail wind came along so the plane would be pushed along faster by the wind. He's a thinker, this one! Maybe next time I'll explain aerodynamics and how that helps a plane move along faster. (Some of his misconceptions are probably from my lack of credentials to be discussing engineering principles with my boy . . . so maybe I should actually quit while I'm ahead in discussing plane designs with him.)
Funny, typical David story. This boy has some stamina when it comes to asking for the same thing over and over. I hold my ground in saying "no" in as many ways as he asks when I find it necessary, so I don't think he asks so much because I eventually give in. For the first 45 minutes of this flight, David was asking in as many ways as he could for some kind of device to play games on. I said no. It was actually impossible, since we don't own one, and this particular flight was too small to have offered them as a service. But he kept asking, and I kept patiently explaining that we didn't have a way to make that possible. But he had set his heart on having an electronic device this time, and he didn't give up easily. The passengers around us were starting to laugh with each new way he found to ask the same questions. They commented to me on how persistent he was. I agreed. This is who we are. The passengers across the aisle from us just kept to themselves through this whole ordeal, and didn't comment or acknowledge what was going on in seats C and D of their row.
After a while, David noticed that the lady across the aisle from him had a miniPad. So he struck up a conversation. He said "Hi." Then waited a couple minutes. Then he said "This sure is a nice flight." Then he waited a couple more minutes and said, "Where are you from?" This six year old was working his way up , and eventually he interrupted her game playing to ask, "What are you playing?" She let him look over her shoulder and would occasionally explain what she was doing. I was dying inside, because I knew just where this was going. A few more minutes go by, and I notice that David is pointing out possible moves for her next turn. Another minute, and he is taking turns choosing the moves. One thing leads to the next, and David was scooted all the way over in his chair, blocking the aisle, and helping this lady play her game. Then he was the one holding her iPad while she still coached him.
And, believe it or not, for the last 15 minutes of the flight, David had completely commandeered the miniPad and he was playing her game by himself, situated back into his own seat.
The most amazing thing is the way he applies charm to make it all happen. I would ask him to please stay in his seat and leave the other passenger alone, and everyone around me was so charmed by him that they assured me there was really nothing wrong with this. The flight attendant apologized as she maneuvered the drink cart around the boy stretched across the aisle. The passenger lady kept telling me, "Oh no, he's doing so well that this fun to watch." Apparently I was the only person on the plane that could see a problem with what was happening. So eventually I sat back and let it happen, just to see how far David would get. No one else seemed to mind, so why should I? And just to reinforce this behavior, before this couple deplaned they presented David with an authentic firefighters' coin and explained just how special it was to have one.
Sometimes Sam and I look at this negotiating power that David possesses and we refer to the parable of the camel. Have you heard about the camel that was traveling across the desert with his master when a terrible wind storm blew in? They set up camp with a small tent just big enough for the master, and the camel slept outside. After a few minutes, the camel asked "Oh, the wind is so frightful, can I just put my nostrils inside the tent so I don't get sand in my nose?" Granted. Then a couple minutes later, "Oh, my eyes are hurting from the sting of sand blowing in them. Can I put my eyes inside the tent?" Okay. It went on and on, "Now can I just squeeze my ears inside?" No problem? "my knees" "my hump" "my legs" "my tail" until finally it is the master that is outside in the wind storm while the camel sleeps peacefully inside the tent.
This is the story of our negotiator.
I'll admit that as his mother, I have always fought this. If I draw a boundary, I want it respected--not negotiated. Inches and miles are constantly being evaluated at our house. Have we given enough so that he knows we are open to his ideas, but not too much to encourage entitlement? Have we held strong enough so he respects a "no" answer without feeling like his parents are out to defeat his every "good idea"? It causes me angst as a mother, and one of the ways that I shrug my shoulders and say, "I just don't have the answer." I don't feel like there are any good answers when I feel constantly pushed.
But watching all of this play out on the airplane this night, I realized that camels know how to have fun. And while someone might scratch their head and ask afterwards, "Now how exactly did we get from point A to point Z there?"--no one seems to really mind. Maybe my camel has enough charm that he helps everyone feel important in his journey to get what he sets his heart out to get. Maybe, just maybe, David has a combination of gifts that balance everything out and I could probably learn something from this strong character that is on this earth to teach me.
I'm off to read books about how to care for a camel.
(It will be a nice reprieve from parenting books that seem to use examples of children that eventually stop pushing.)
