I forgot what we were talking about, but Evelyn all of a sudden told me "I love my body. I love myself."
Two short sentences that she uttered matter of fact-ly. Life seen from a toddler's point of view. Two short sentences that carry so much meaning in a world in which people battle with body image. I wish I could bottle her self love and confidence up to dole it out if she ever felt down about herself. I wish I could help her feel that way about herself through out her life.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Talking
Evelyn has two sides. One side she shows only to the people that are closest to her, and the other she shows to the rest of the world.
In front of close, close family and favorite friends, she's this talkative little girl who spins stories, invents expressions, and sings at the top of her lung. But if someone from the rest of the world come close and talk to her, they would see a stony faced little girl with her eyes trained on them but gives them only silence. Friends we saw on an almost weekly basis still have trouble getting an utterance out of her. Once or twice someone would overhear Evelyn talking in play, not noticing the adult near by. But once she spots the observer, she would shut up like a clam. Time and time again we would have to tell a friendly stranger, doctor or a waiter who solicited her reaction that she's shy. But while the behavior is easily excused when she's a cute baby or toddler, it cannot continue as she continues to grow. Even more perplexing is how she's shrouding herself in silence in front of her teachers at school.
Evelyn was moved to her current class last summer. She quickly found her comfort level with her teachers. Her teachers make drop-offs in the morning smooth and without problem. She seeks hugs from them and would go sit on their laps at various times through out the day. Yet this close physical comfort is not enough for her to speak to them. They only know that she is not developmentally impeded by overhearing her imaginary plays and conversation with her best friend. With some prodding, they might be able to get her to whisper to them, but that's it. They brought the issue up once again at the latest parent-teacher conference, and asked if we should seek professional help as they are out of tricks to try.
I've asked her why she refuses to talk to her teachers. She told me it's because "I'm shy." But that seems to be just a convenient answer, and that there's more behind it. She's never been teased or laughed at, nor responded poorly towards. Why did she ever need to put up such a defense? I wonder if she is holding on to her silence as her identity. Her badge of honor, almost. As a way of standing out. Except as she progress along in school, the lack of communication with teachers and peers would quickly become a hindrance. How would people know what she understands or not get if she doesn't let on?
Any way, last week her Nanny (granny) helped her make a "shyness" box to store her shyness at home. The second day, she whispered to a teacher. Today, I reminded her to talk to people some more. We shall see how the day goes.
To me, she's a precious little girl with an active imagination and hearty laugh. I just hope she would share it more with the rest of the world.
In front of close, close family and favorite friends, she's this talkative little girl who spins stories, invents expressions, and sings at the top of her lung. But if someone from the rest of the world come close and talk to her, they would see a stony faced little girl with her eyes trained on them but gives them only silence. Friends we saw on an almost weekly basis still have trouble getting an utterance out of her. Once or twice someone would overhear Evelyn talking in play, not noticing the adult near by. But once she spots the observer, she would shut up like a clam. Time and time again we would have to tell a friendly stranger, doctor or a waiter who solicited her reaction that she's shy. But while the behavior is easily excused when she's a cute baby or toddler, it cannot continue as she continues to grow. Even more perplexing is how she's shrouding herself in silence in front of her teachers at school.
Evelyn was moved to her current class last summer. She quickly found her comfort level with her teachers. Her teachers make drop-offs in the morning smooth and without problem. She seeks hugs from them and would go sit on their laps at various times through out the day. Yet this close physical comfort is not enough for her to speak to them. They only know that she is not developmentally impeded by overhearing her imaginary plays and conversation with her best friend. With some prodding, they might be able to get her to whisper to them, but that's it. They brought the issue up once again at the latest parent-teacher conference, and asked if we should seek professional help as they are out of tricks to try.
I've asked her why she refuses to talk to her teachers. She told me it's because "I'm shy." But that seems to be just a convenient answer, and that there's more behind it. She's never been teased or laughed at, nor responded poorly towards. Why did she ever need to put up such a defense? I wonder if she is holding on to her silence as her identity. Her badge of honor, almost. As a way of standing out. Except as she progress along in school, the lack of communication with teachers and peers would quickly become a hindrance. How would people know what she understands or not get if she doesn't let on?
Any way, last week her Nanny (granny) helped her make a "shyness" box to store her shyness at home. The second day, she whispered to a teacher. Today, I reminded her to talk to people some more. We shall see how the day goes.
To me, she's a precious little girl with an active imagination and hearty laugh. I just hope she would share it more with the rest of the world.
How much?
The setting: Migo is Evelyn's auntie's dog. She's also Evelyn's "favorite, favorite dog in the whole world." In fact, the day after we came back from visiting Evelyn's aunties and Migo, Evelyn told me that she "misses Migo so much." This conversation took place during our visit.
Auntie Alicia: Evelyn, how much do you love Migo?
Evelyn: So much!
Auntie Alicia: How much?
Evelyn: Two hours much!
I suppose when one has only been in this world for 3 years and some months, an hour could seem so, very, very long. And to love another being as much as two hours long, now that, is an astronomical amount.
Auntie Alicia: Evelyn, how much do you love Migo?
Evelyn: So much!
Auntie Alicia: How much?
Evelyn: Two hours much!
I suppose when one has only been in this world for 3 years and some months, an hour could seem so, very, very long. And to love another being as much as two hours long, now that, is an astronomical amount.
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