Beckett doesn’t know a stranger.
Subsequently, he’s the king of small talk. He will talk to anyone about anything, no matter their age. He always finds a way to start a conversation.
For example, while at the soccer fields the other day, I had to use the restroom before we were going to buy a snowball from a nearby truck. I asked him to stand outside the door. He didn’t do as I asked, but as soon as I came out he called me out so I knew where he was.
As I walked over, I could see he was on the ground doing a reverse bridge maneuver. By the time, I got over to him he was doing cartwheels and other maneuvers.
When I asked what he was doing, he said he was trying to keep the guy entertained because he said he doesn’t like watching soccer. He then let me know we needed to buy something from the guy because he looked bored.
Another example of that outward nature was on full display during halftime of a soccer game later that same day.
While he was lined up at midfield along with his teammates, there were a few minutes of a lull while waiting for the other team to come on the field.
Rather than wait patiently and focusing on the game starting, as his teammates were doing, he started up a conversation with the referee. Pam and I immediately wondered what that was about. I figured he was questioning her for not calling a penalty kick on one of his flops from the first half.
After a couple minutes, she pulled out her red card and held it up to him. I was concerned at first in light of how I thought the conversation was going. It turns out they were having fun together and he had simply asked if she had a red card on her.
There were a few back-and-forth comments and he acted disgusted as if he had been actually tossed from the game. Fortunately, for him, that was not the case and they were just fooling around.
I love our guy’s extroverted personality and willingness to strike up a conversation with anyone. All too often his chattiness gets him in hot water and rightly so. For the most part, if he’s awake, he talking. He hasn’t learned at 8 years old that not every single thought or idea has to be articulated verbally. At this point, it pains him when he can’t say something that he wants to get off his chest.
Without question, it’s something he needs to get a handle on and we constantly address this with him.
The tricky part for us is not being so hard on him that we stop his unique personality from coming out. He’s a fun, passionate and extroverted child whose sophisticated and witty personality is beyond his years.
It was fun to watch this play out last weekend in healthy ways, rather than in settings that require us to come down on him for being disruptive and disrespectful.
The key to life sometimes with Carson is deflection.
Idle time and Carson typically do not go well together. We have learned over the years he gets in trouble when he doesn’t have anything to occupy him and his hands.
That’s why I felt foolish last week when I had some errands do around the house and thought I could get them done while Carson hung out inside. As I walked to take the trash out, I could hear him heading upstairs and I knew Pam was racing against the clock to get ready before school drop-offs and work.
As I walked back in, I could hear Pam telling him to stop doing something. With the art of deflection in mind, I yelled upstairs I needed him to give me a hand taking the trash out. He stopped whatever he was doing and rushed down the steps. I then tasked him with helping me clean out my truck and taking a folder inside and helping me get the recycling together. He loves taking care of tasks around the house.
On the complete opposite extreme is Beckett, who if asked to do those sorts of things would have responded, “What did I do wrong? Why am I being punished?”
Life with young boys is never dull or ordinary.
While upstairs the other morning juggling various duties, I heard a huge thud from downstairs. This is not uncommon. It’s to the point now that I get concerned when I don’t hear anything.
Usually, if I hear a loud bang and it’s not immediately followed by shouting or crying, I don’t even pay it any mind. This particular thud was followed up by an “ouch” from Beckett and a laugh from Carson. My curiosity got the best of me and I didn’t feel like I could ignore that.
When I shouted down to see what it was, Beckett replied, “Oh it was nothing, just me trying a flip throw-in with the soccer ball off the couch. I failed. Nothing got broken, but I need moving the ottoman back on the rug.”