The Helfer Family: Lawn Mower, Helmet, and a Big Boy

James is growing up, changing so quickly, and learning every day. Since I can’t freeze time, I have got to get better about documenting. James’ favorite thing to do right now is anything that we do.

Mowing, sweeping, cooking, wiping tables, taking things out of the refrigerator {over and over again}, bathing Lynyrd, “put da stuff in da car” {like groceries}. It’s like he thinks he’s an adult and is completely capable of doing everything we do.

We are really trying to let him feel this independence. He LOVES to help {although usually it’s not so much a help}. I often ask him to get the juice or milk out of the refrigerator. Sometimes he says “ohhhhh, it’s so heaby!” After a meal, he clears his plate in the “twashcwan” then, puts it in the sink {insert: loud crashing sound}. He helps put the clothes in the dryer. I roll cookie dough; he rolls play-doh. We check the mail. He gets in and out of the car by himself. He even thinks he helps me close the door behind him. His newest chore is to let Lynyrd out of our bedroom when we get home. That gives me about three minutes to put my stuff down, make his lunch, etc., because he walks up the stairs, wiggles the door knob until it finally opens, then slowly walks back down. He now calls Lynyrd “my puppy” or “sweet wittle my puppy.” He is loving responsibility... except for picking up his toys. He does not like that one bit.

He is still a two year old boy. A mere bug stops him in his tracks.

While mowing yesterday, we had two rules. 1) You do not touch Daddy’s lawn mower. “It’s dangewous!” and 2) You do not go in the street. “Don’t go in da stweet, you’ll get hit by a caw.” We often shake on things. I say, “deal?” and he says “deaw.”

Following rules without meltdowns is a new thing. He’s finally accepting that meltdowns don’t get him what he wants. He also is starting to have a healthy amount of fear. He’s beginning to understand that you get to do more if you are a good listener.

After mowing, he hopped on his scooter for some fun in the driveway. {Front yard play is also a new thing, as he just recently is to be trusted near a street.}

Then he said, “where’s my helmet?” We had not yet discussed buying him a helmet since he hasn’t yet mastered his tricycle. But it’s kind of like a kid asking for broccoli. You give it to him. Next thing I know, we’re at Dicks Sporting Goods.

He has a book on street safety. At the end, the main character, Tilly, gets her helmet before getting back on her bike. James won’t even wear a hat so, we thought if he wants a helmet now, then maybe it’s a battle we won’t have to fight later. We bought one that should fit him for about 10 years. I didn’t think he’d actually wear it when we got home. Not only did he wear it, but he loved it!