Thursday, February 08, 2007

(Sad) Things They Say

All right, I haven't yet mustered the courage to write about the dissertation today, so I offer something that I have been meaning to do for the longest time, some things my sons have been saying. The reason why I haven't really posted these more often is that they have to be translated from Portuguese into English which consequently causes some losses of meaning and humor. The few (so far five) times I posted these can be found under the label "Kids Say the Darndest Things (in Translation)" in my sidebar.

Expressing Feelings
My youngest, who is 2 years and 8 months old, has recently started to express his negative feelings in a very open manner. One of the words he's been using most often in his vocabulary lately is triste (sad). He wants all of us to know that he is sad that something happened. Even more often, he announces to all of us that he'll be really sad if something is done in a particular way. He also looks at what just happened and realizes the effect his "sadness" has on us.

Some example from the last few days:
"If daddy leaves I'm going to be really really sad!"
"I don't like when Kelvin doesn't share with me. I was very very very sad. And he gave that toy to me." (this had happened an hour earlier and he was reflecting on what had taken place)

Fears and Nightmares
My oldest son (who is going to be 5 in March) has started wake up at night very afraid. He says he has nightmares and worries about wolves and forests. It's been very tough on my husband, who is generally the one who gets up to sleep with him in the futon in the boy's bedroom. Tonight I was talking to him before he went to sleep and he said:
"Do you know what? I wish that the night was less long, I wish it was shorter."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I'm tired of having bad dreams."
"And what do you do when you have them?"
"I wake up with a sad face."
"And what do you do?"
"Should I pray? I don't pray."
"Well, maybe you should, so you wouldn't be afraid."
"But it's not God who brings these dreams, it's my head."
I didn't know what to say, he was perfectly right, so I just said:
"It's not easy to be a person, isn't it?"
He was quiet for a bit and then replied:
"You know what? I didn't want to be a person."
"What would you want to be, then? An animal? What? What do you mean?"
"I wanted not to exist."

Wow... isn't it a bit early to express such feelings? Or is he just so afraid of his nightmares that he just doesn't want to have to live through them. I wish we could do something to help, but I guess all we can do is talk to him about it and continue letting him sleep with us as needed.

I told him I'd be right back and came to the computer to type up this conversation. He came after me and we talked some more about this. I know that these "profound" things they say may not mean the same to them that they mean to us, but still, I'm surprised at how philosophical some of our conversations get. And this has been happening since he was three years old. He asks such inquisitive questions! I just wish I wrote down more of our exchanges.

6 comments:

ArticulateDad said...

Get a digital audio recorder, and record them. You'll be glad you did.

Alice said...

Ditto on recording, I do that too. (Using a cassette player).

You certainly have a little existentialist philosopher there! I think talking a lot with him about this will help. Do you know what the origin of his nightmares may be? A story (Little Red Riding Hood maybe?)?? Having heard from somewhere - the news? - about a child getting lost in the forest etc? Finding the origin might help. Isabella has night terrors too, ever since Halloween! So we know what it is that triggered it. Since she was so afraid of sleeping alone, we put both kids into the same bedroom and ever since then she's been feeling a lot more confident about sleeping without light. The drawback to that is that the kids wake each other up all the time, but they take comfort in each other's company.

Aliki2006 said...

Oh, that conversation would break my heart too. What a mind your son has--truly wonderful.

Keiko said...

Nossa Lilian! Tão pequenos!!! Como pode? O Zack acorda chorando no meio da noite (e não é pra mamar mais, só quer colo) e mesmo sem falar eu já fico de coração partido...imagine falando isso tudo! Dureza...

kate said...

Oh dear, that is sad. But, probably perfectly normal. Today my youngest, who has always been such a a sweetie, crawling into my lap and saying, "I love you, Mommy!"-- well, today he was upset about something and said, for the first time ever, "I don't love you, Mommy!" He repeated it three times! Oh well, I guess it had to happen sometime.

Juliet said...

My heart ached when I read what Kelvin said (about not wanting to exsist). I don't know if it all holds the same meaning for children as it does for us, but it is sure upsetting to hear them say those things, isn't it?