The Independent Toddler

“He’s so cute!” remarked a woman observing my two-year-old grandson.  “Aww look at him!” Another woman said with warm, squinted googly eyes. And finally, “It’s bigger than he is!” exclaimed a man. What in the world was he doing? He was happily toting his own luggage through an airport. How did he get here? 

Now, I’ve had four toddlers in my lifetime. My last one is now a 27-year old. Pouring their own juice into a glass, standing on a chair to help wash the dishes or dropping drinking glasses into a sink were banished tasks in my house at that stage. In fact, so did any task that had the potential for mistakes that I had to fix or clean afterwards - which meant all of them. I’ve watched my elder daughter with her toddler and how she allows him to not only pour his own drinks, make his cereal and select containers of fruit from the refrigerator, but at that airport, I witnessed independence beyond my experiences as a mom. It wasn’t just about being cute (even though he absolutely was) but more about parenting.

His mother gave him complete responsibility for his own suitcase. As the terminal stretched on and on, so did his little legs moving at twice the speed of hers. There he was, walking along, rolling his suitcase behind him the whole way (as an adult would). There was no whining, no complaining about being tired, no meltdown. In fact, every time she offered to roll it for him, he adamantly responded, “I dot it!” [I got it.] When we approached the moving walkway, she encouraged him to get on. He was apprehensive at first, but after she gave him a little pep talk, “Come on, scoot. You can do it!” He took the first step. He and the suitcase landed on their back sides. Rather than give up and stay down, a few more words from mom, and he quickly got up and rode the rest of the way. But back to the suitcase.

Is my grandson exceptionally gifted and on a genius level? Well perhaps I’m a bit biased in saying that he is. But for whatever reason, witnessing a toddler tote his own bag incited joy in people. I overheard squeals of delight, comments about his cuteness and saw huge smiles. At one point, my daughter said, “Come on, Scoot!” As he slowed down to observe the scenery. “Yeah, come on, Scoot, keep up now!” Said a man as he walked along. Everyone who witnessed the scene broke into giggles. 

I’m convinced that my daughter’s patience with my grandson and the support she gives him to be independent led up to this moment. It was just something about that little body doing something so grown up, that brought happiness to us all. I can’t wait to see what he does next. 

Book Report: "The House on Mango Street" By Sandra Cisneros

Simply put, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Having been a substitute teacher in several high schools in the City of Chicago, I saw The House on Mango Street in many of them. It seems that the title has always circulated and floated around me, even before I saw the book on the shelves in classrooms of English and Language Arts teachers. The day I was able to read it has forever changed me. I could not put it down, and by the time I had two chapters left to read, the bell rang, and it was time for me to go home. My next stop that very same day was the library, and I spent the next couple of weeks reading and studying this amazing little book. Rather than read where I’d left off, I started over from the beginning. In doing so, I was compelled to deep-dive. Besides being entertaining, it is a masterclass in writing and characterization.

The introduction is poignant with such profound insight into the author’s mind. Not only will readers appreciate the stories to come, but for readers who are also writers, they are gold. Cisneros captivates from the first sentence. Pointing the reader to her photograph, she provides a clear narrative about herself, her family, and neighborhood. She puts us, the reader, right next to herself and arm-in-arm, walks us around. She is our tour guide. Set in Chicago, she gives the natives something special - not just with imagery, but her olfactory writing skills give rise to familiarity. The smells waft from the page. When she introduces her parents, we see they are instrumental in shaping her, and she honors them. We see her honesty. We see her fears. We see her. Whimsical, strong-minded, and daring, we meet the author through her prose in 3rd person. Clear in her purpose, she gives readers a special look into her why, and I reiterate her notion that “writing stories should mean something.” Some parts feel like a peek into her diary. They feel intimate. Through her observation of beauty in broken/unfinished things, we glimpse part of her personality. This becomes, perhaps, a metaphor for the beauty she sees in the women of the book. Themes of shame and oppression are staples in the novel, but Cisneros doesn’t abandon her readers there. Woven with feelings of joy and overcoming, it makes perfect sense to dedicate it “to the women.” 

Creating bite-sized chapters, Cisneros is fearless. She sees the world as a painter might. One such example is when she describes the turning ropes in Double Dutch as,“When the two arcs open wide like jaws” (p. 51). And on why she regularly met with a group of writers, her words, “...the world we live in is a house on fire and the people we love are burning” (p. xviii) sums up why writers simply can not write. In the chapter, “And Some More,” there is a heated argument between characters. The reader can feel tension and hear yelling with barely an exclamation point. Cisneros writes, “...the family that spoke like guitars” (p. 94) to describe a family with a southern accent. Sure. Guitars twang. Her stories are rich, and the characters are relatable. So relatable, in fact, that I recognized children I grew up with described in “There Was an Old Woman She Had So Many Children She Didn’t Know What to Do.” Beautifully written with the fewest words imaginable, the book is touching, vivid, and, at times, funny. Readers will wince, fight back tears, and laugh out loud. We feel what the characters feel. I marvel, time after time, at how she could evoke such strong emotions from her readers in such a short line or phrase. 

Thank you, Ms. Cisneros, for your brilliant little book and the lessons within. With them come voices of inspiration and the assurance that somewhere, somehow, we writers will find our own. Seamless, your writing flows like water; smooth and uninhibited. Kinda like you.