Lawbreaker

I told Henry the other day: three-year-olds are lawbreakers. He thought this was hilarious, having become quite the law-follower (and enforcer) himself. It wasn't so long ago that I despaired of his lawlessness and the way he ruthlessly tested every single rule, guideline, or suggestion. Now I realize that he was just in a more-intense phase of the standard 3-4 year old modus operandum, the same place his sister is now in.

The other day was a good example: at the end of a long day of camp and then the public library, the kids were tired, needed a break, and I wanted to start dinner. "Each of you," I proclaimed, "can choose one episode of a video to watch together." Henry immediately considered this offer and made his choice: "Pound Puppies!" he said. Agatha's response, as it is to most things these days, was: nah, I'm not doing that. "Two episodes," she countered, "no, four."

I got so used to Henry's intense resistance that I'm still surprised at how well he does in all organized settings now. Not to brag, but his teachers love him. After three years of the same two teachers at preschool, this past year it was a teacher boom: he acquired four kindergarten teachers (two homeroom, two in the partner class), specialists in Spanish, computers, art, PE, and library who all know him well, several Sunday school teachers and now three or four teachers of summer camp. His teachers love him, I think, because he is an excellent student, pays attention, never (or almost never) gets in trouble, understands and follows the rules, and is enthusiastic about everything. When a teacher (or neighbor, because he's developed independent relationships with several of them, too) approaches me and begins, "I just wanted to tell you..." I still flinch, expecting them to talk about Henry's recalcitrance. But no. My chief lawbreaker now looooves the law, although he does sometimes delight in the anarchic amorality of his crazy sister.