We cancelled our Fire Island beach plans today with Uncle Seth, lamo-s that we are. P was a bit dissapointed to miss the sand, surf and especially Seth, but ever the optimist he begged to go into the hall to "get somefin." That something being our beach umbrella, which he gaily placed in the center of the playroom and created an oceanscape out of his felt pieces on the floor below. There were 3 trees (christmas, "jungle" and coconut), a fish and a swimming dinosaur at his beach today. Eventually he wanted to stand on top of the umbrella (which, despite his best climbing efforts and me as a ladder didn't "work very well") and then over it went and upside down it was a beautiful boat, us as passengers, menaced by a tiger shark. Replete with whooshy wind and water noises he rocked our boat and steered it away from the shark, occasionally braving the waters for a swim/chase.
Then it struck me how much his play has changed in the past month. While we are almost always required to participate in said play, before we were also required to give it life. Almost like he wanted to watch us play to see how to play. I know it sounds silly, and I often worried about why he didn't seem to be able to just, uh, go play. But now I realize that the more familiar plot based play that I remember was just beyond him. He's getting into it now though and its amazing to see our past plots come to life through his eyes. E tends towards sharks, monsters and car crashes and I towards rescues and adventure searches with monsters, so his stories often hold these elements. Generally enacted with cars, dinosaurs, tractors and lily pads. Most all of his cars have basic names (Big Sally, Grandpapa's jeep, Mama monster truck) and personalities that he has slowly assigned over the past year.
And beyond shark attacks and car crashes he also seems to work out his stress points through play. Back in June he shut his Baby Monster Truck on one side of the door and then asked me to retrieve it. As I came close with the Baby he shouted "Please! Give it to me!" I handed him the baby and he took it over to the Mama Monster Truck and in a kinda fierce tone said "Never go away by yourself!" (No, I hadn't said this to him, but there have been conversations in public bathrooms with this general gist :)) Another time I heard him saying "No hitting. No Hitting. NO HITTING" and then held a different car and said "But I want to hit" and then spoke very quietly between the two and then they went on playing.
The other play theme that tickles me is seeing how very Brooklyn he is, despite his backhoe fetish. One day while I showered he set up a "museum" by his train tracks with his animals. Another day he pretended we took his taxi to Coney Island and used fridge magnets as tickets for the rides, starting with the Ferris Wheel. One of his trains is a "worker train" like in the subway and another is a "Brooklyn" train that takes people home :)
But his favorite play is anything with E and I. Generally he requests us to be someone we are not, which I'm not sure how to take:) My most requested characters are Mildred (toothless old woman from the south), a witch (nice witch), mama bee (my right pointer finger buzzes) and a guy (fitting whichever description, cashier, waiter, cook, that P needs at the time). Ethan's top hits are Monster and Screaming Banshee (a shrieking creature who enjoys getting hit in the noggin by balloons and hops great distances from a crouching position. Don't ask). And this is where E's and my playing styles and parenting roles so obviously diverge. He is the sprinter, home for short bursts and his creations require high amounts of energy which greatly tickle little ones but that he cannot sustain for as long as is usually requested. I'm the distance runner. Mine are fairly lame but can stick around for entire meals and walks to the library. Every time the Banshee visits it leaves E listless on the sumo for a good long Mildred schtick in an umbrella boat. I guess its really more of a relay run :)
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