I Heart San Francisco

An up-and-down day with the guys. We decided to take a walk around the city to check out a local street fair and Easter parade, but Isaac melted down a few blocks in when we informed him that he was not allowed to trample a neighbor's flowerbed so he could touch their heart.

I'll explain: there's an art project called Hearts in San Francisco, started in 2004, in which a number of artists were commissioned to paint large metal heart sculptures for auction. The proceeds went to San Francisco General Hospital. On any given walk around the city, chances are that you'll see at least one heart: in a public space like Union Square, or, just as likely, peering out of someone's garden.

Isaac is entranced by the hearts, so much so that he wants to touch each one he sees. It's partly childish ritual, partly, I think, compulsion.

Here's where our problems began. The accelerant was low blood sugar, brought on by what I like to call "sheer cussedness," brought on by a show of will that would put the WWF to shame (metal chairs not included). We ended up at a street corner, lamely trying to coax Isaac off his behind, while he cried and screamed and cursed the skies like a miniature King Lear.

After a while, J. managed to convince Isaac that there would be no more bus if he didn't have lunch first [the bus being verrry popular around these parts], and, sure enough, a few bites of chicken and waffle fries later, my sunny son re-emerged. Another shining example of QAP by the husband.

After lunch, we wandered down Chestnut Street in the Marina, where he stopped to touch yet another heart. Luckily, this one was publicly accessible. We're home now, all decompressing in our various ways. Isaac is happily watching Diego (so age-appropriate!) and J. is checking email while I tap this out before starting the whole evening ritual: dinner, bath, bedtime.

We're in such a "more" phase now: more language, more engagement, more willfulness and, with it, more moodiness, more compulsiveness, more extremes. I really do think Isaac is in a period of unfolding, and my goal, as much as I have one, is to try not to overthink this. Just let him be, let him be four, let him blow off steam and try and fail, and, to the extent possible and as safety and sanity permit, get the hell out of the way.

Comments

[goodfountain]

I think your goal of not overthinking is brilliant.

You are really give me much fodder for to think about lately, Susan. You are writing just what I need to hear and remember. Thanks. And keep it up (no pressure, though - LOL).

[kristen]

I love the wisdom of that last thought. It is beyond wise. I wish I had been that smart when my son was four.

[Casdok]

Weve trampled a few flower beds in our time!
Great goal. :)

[drama mama]

Sounds like a great plan.

I like your style.

[Niksmom]

listening to your podcast right now! LOVE the "current events not prophecy" perspective you shared! I totally think Isaac is unfolding in so many beautiful ways and I am grateful that you share it with us.