Yes, this is what we have now crumbled to in our house. If I want to have a conversation with Davey, ask him a question, tell him what not to do, etc., well then I must talk to Ironman in order to get to Davey. A big heavy sigh.
I’ve been fortunate in that neither one of my boys have needed a lovie or an item to provide them with security and comfort. I feared this, as I know so many parents who’ve lost sleep, wasted gas, or called every store they walked into in order to find that one item their child needs in order to function properly. I am beyond thankful that we did not go that route, but now it seems that we must travel down another road so many parents have already been on.
This afternoon I asked Davey about soccer. He’s playing again and while my husband and I are beyond thrilled that he at least stays on the field this year, we’re still a little annoyed with his inability to get in there and actually play the game. He follows the players, but doesn’t try to get the ball. When the ball comes his way, he starts kicking it, but then immediately has it stolen away (as should be done) by another player which in turn forces him to start crying, or just give up completely. My frustration abounds as it is not in my nature to cry about something, much less to just give up. So, this inability to understand has led to a conversation about soccer, which led to Davey only answering if I asked the question to Ironman FIRST.
Davey has an Ironman doll. He’s not totally attached to it, not in the way that the world is coming to end if he leaves it as his Mimi’s overnight. No, his attachment comes and goes with Ironman, but for some reason he feels that he needs to now have Ironman with him everywhere he goes. He feels that he needs Ironman’s strength to do the hard stuff and I’m a ok with that, a little annoyed, but ok with it.
So, as I asked him questions about soccer, I had to ask them in this way, “Ironman, if you go to soccer with Davey tomorrow, do you think he will try hard to get the ball?” Davey then looks at Ironman and says, “tell Mommy that I will play harder if you come with me.” I’m sitting here shaking my head as I type out this conversation, my mouth in a bit of a grimace that I’m now being forced to use Ironman, an inanimate $15 piece of plastic doll, as an intermediary in my conversations with Davey. I can’t wait till his dad has to do the same! (Insert a devious laugh as I know my husband will begrudgingly do this, but roll his eyes and grit his teeth)
Apparently, taking Ironman to soccer is only the beginning because now Ironman must also go to church tonight to help him with the memory of his Bible Verses and to school tomorrow. Look, I know Ironman is crazy smart and has super human strength…he’s a superhero after all, I just find it annoyingly humorous that he is now forced to serve as a middle man in a four year old’s conversations with his parents.