Arthur Update

I can see that I need to re-read the books I have on child development. I continue to be confounded at things like

• why Arthur can point to a picture of a cat in the middle of a bunch of other animals, but he shrugs his shoulders (the sign for "I don't know") when I ask him which of two blocks is the red one
• why Arthur's favorite key on the electronic keyboard is the one that turns the red power LED on and off (and on and off and on and off and on and off...)
• Why Arthur will got close to an electrical socket, say "no," shake his head, and then touch the socket anyway
• why lights, which presumably he's never touched, are 'hotch', which places them in the same category as stoves, fires, pictures of fires, and freshly prepared oatmeal.

Jenn, a Montessori teacher, explained to me that differentiating colors is an advanced concept. I had already used colors in the fractions flashcards I made for Arthur.

At least I understand why Arthur smacked the lap harp with a colored block from a musical toy -- the musical toy makes music when you smack blocks into it, so all musical instruments must be played that way. Luckily, Arthur hasn't smacked my Dad's baby grand piano with a colored block (yet).

I've also learned (a little too late) that I shouldn't have started a pushing game with Arthur. He'd stand, I'd have one arm behind him, and then I'd push him backwards. Then he'd arch his back and look at everything upside down. He thought this was the funniest thing ever and I think I must have initiated theatrical faints for about twenty minutes. Now when he comes up to us we have to be ready for him to collapse backwards.

Oh, and I guess it's time to start the therapy fund. At one point in our house's past, someone drilled small holes into the floor and snaked coaxial cable into the living room, probably for cable TV. For the past month, Arthur has gone over to where the cables were hidden, pushed aside the furniture hiding them, and stuck the cable terminal into his mouth. I'm pretty sure The Fearful Parent Magazine would have something to say about that. I usually say, "Not for Arthur" and make him put the furniture back.

Anyway, yesterday evening Mark, Arthur and I were arranging living room furniture so that it had less of that warehouse feel. Arthur started playing with the cables. I went to the toolbox, got some tin snips, and -- snip! -- no more cables. Just little empty holes in the floors. The look of betrayal wasn't quite as bad as the one last year when Arthur realized the fries on my plate were going to go over his head and into my mouth -- but it was close. This evening he was still looking for the missing cables.