Hailey, age 4, has developed a bug phobia. When she sees one, she screams and runs and cries.
I am one mom/grandmom/aunt/sister who has no patience -- and I mean NO PATIENCE -- with that behavior. Unless it's a wasp. But that's one bug, one specific kind of bug, not any and all. Anyway, I have no patience with that. Time to nip it in the bud. (Or in the bug. just to be funny.)
This is somewhat natural for the age, I suppose. I never paid a lot of attention to it when my girls went through it, because of that no patience policy I may have mentioned. The sudden appearance of any critter is startling and evokes an "oh!" or an "Eek!"
I told Hailey's mom I'd like to slap silly whoever taught Hailey to act that way, but that it wouldn't be satisfying to do so, because said person has already attained that state. (Translation: She's silly to start with.)
Hailey sees two kinds of bugs. Flying bugs are flies. Crawling bugs are spiders.
Size or color doesn't matter. Except in the bathtub. Anything black in the bathtub is a cause for panic, has been for about three years. Instant hysteria, climb up the gramma, refuse to put a toe in the water, plain basic panic. (See, I do know the difference.)
Now, there are flies that get in her swimming pool. Spiders, too. She wouldn't get in the pool with flies and spiders, so I got her a net. The first few times I skimmed it for her. Then I showed her. She still refused to have anything to do with the skimming.
So, mean Mammaw took her and bodily stood her in the center of the pool, wrapped Hailey's little fingers around the net handle, and held on to Hailey's arm and made it swish swish, then showed her how to knock the stuff onto the ground.
After that, it was up to Hailey. If she wants to swim, she either has to swim with the bugs or skim them out herself. Meanie Mammaw would sit on the porch and let her holler, whine, scream,whimper. If she wants to swim, she knew what she had to do. It was up to her, old Meanie said.
The next morning she hopped in the pool, skimmed it and showed the spiders to that old meanie.
This visit Hailey started screaming running through the house and even refusing to go potty because there are crickets hopping around in the almost remodeled bathroom. Someone had to go to the bathroom with her, to protect her from the spiders that jump on her.
So, on one trip to the bathroom, we started talking about the bugs. The jumping spiders that are called cricket and that jump in the wall and make noise.
"They make noise."
"They're singing to you."
"SingING?"
"Yes, they are in the wall singing to you."
Then we experimented with walking around in the bathroom, and how the cricket would stop singing whenever we moved too close to the wall, and then start singing when we'd be quiet and be still.
We headed out of the bathroom, and the cricket chirped twice. I said, "It sang 'good-bye for now.' "
Hailey stopped in her tracks and looked at me. "It was singing TO ME?"
I said yes.
Wonder dawned in her face. "Oh, Mammaw. You mean it's nice?"
I am one mom/grandmom/aunt/sister who has no patience -- and I mean NO PATIENCE -- with that behavior. Unless it's a wasp. But that's one bug, one specific kind of bug, not any and all. Anyway, I have no patience with that. Time to nip it in the bud. (Or in the bug. just to be funny.)
This is somewhat natural for the age, I suppose. I never paid a lot of attention to it when my girls went through it, because of that no patience policy I may have mentioned. The sudden appearance of any critter is startling and evokes an "oh!" or an "Eek!"
I told Hailey's mom I'd like to slap silly whoever taught Hailey to act that way, but that it wouldn't be satisfying to do so, because said person has already attained that state. (Translation: She's silly to start with.)
Hailey sees two kinds of bugs. Flying bugs are flies. Crawling bugs are spiders.
Size or color doesn't matter. Except in the bathtub. Anything black in the bathtub is a cause for panic, has been for about three years. Instant hysteria, climb up the gramma, refuse to put a toe in the water, plain basic panic. (See, I do know the difference.)
Now, there are flies that get in her swimming pool. Spiders, too. She wouldn't get in the pool with flies and spiders, so I got her a net. The first few times I skimmed it for her. Then I showed her. She still refused to have anything to do with the skimming.
So, mean Mammaw took her and bodily stood her in the center of the pool, wrapped Hailey's little fingers around the net handle, and held on to Hailey's arm and made it swish swish, then showed her how to knock the stuff onto the ground.
After that, it was up to Hailey. If she wants to swim, she either has to swim with the bugs or skim them out herself. Meanie Mammaw would sit on the porch and let her holler, whine, scream,whimper. If she wants to swim, she knew what she had to do. It was up to her, old Meanie said.
The next morning she hopped in the pool, skimmed it and showed the spiders to that old meanie.
This visit Hailey started screaming running through the house and even refusing to go potty because there are crickets hopping around in the almost remodeled bathroom. Someone had to go to the bathroom with her, to protect her from the spiders that jump on her.
So, on one trip to the bathroom, we started talking about the bugs. The jumping spiders that are called cricket and that jump in the wall and make noise.
"They make noise."
"They're singing to you."
"SingING?"
"Yes, they are in the wall singing to you."
Then we experimented with walking around in the bathroom, and how the cricket would stop singing whenever we moved too close to the wall, and then start singing when we'd be quiet and be still.
We headed out of the bathroom, and the cricket chirped twice. I said, "It sang 'good-bye for now.' "
Hailey stopped in her tracks and looked at me. "It was singing TO ME?"
I said yes.
Wonder dawned in her face. "Oh, Mammaw. You mean it's nice?"
