Tonight Jet and I went to the park.
After a full day at work I missed the little man, so John, George, and Isabel went off to the old house to load more stuff from the old place to bring to the new after we'd all had a dinner of steamed sticky rice bundles (thanks, Mom and Dad!) and fresh broccoli. I was still utterly sore from the day before, and Jet was really tired from having only a half hour nap in the middle of the day. We figured that if Jet went to the old house, he would have fallen asleep, so it was better for him to stay.
He also asked me, a few times this evening, "Go back to our house?" And I have a feeling that he didn't mean the Longmont house. Poor guy. I think he'll be okay with it in the long run, but I sympathize with the feeling of being uprooted and kind of wishing, a little, that we could go back at a visceral level. Logically, we're in much better situation, new house, better access to everything. But emotionally, I do miss the familiar places and spaces of the little yellow house on the prairie and the old routines. In a way we've uprooted ourselves from everything for a few weeks, and it's going to be another week or so before Jet gets back to his pre-school and Joan, so it's probably even harder on him since John and I at least have work to distract us from thinking, all the time, about the move and the new spaces.
So I thought it might be nice to go to the nearby park and let him play for a bit with something he'd really like about this area. So we 'walked' to the park. In quotes because Jet actually ran most of the way there. He just hunkered down, dug in, and ran, occasionally letting me direct him away from the street or down the right corner, not that there were many of them, as the park is just half a block from the house. When we got to the sidewalk across the street from the park, Jet said, "There's kids!"
He let me hold his hand for crossing the last street, and kept holding my hand as we approached a mini-soccer game. Three red on three blue, and at first I thought they were Jet's age! But a closer look at the coordination, and they were obviously five or six-year-olds. When one of them took a break, he was half again as tall as Jet, so very obviously older. It hadn't even occurred to me that Jet might be old enough to be involved in soccer, and it was something of a shock to remember that there are actually some areas that do have soccer for three-year-olds. There were siblings there as well, and some more Jet's size and age, but they were watching the game.
So Jet got the climbing structure to himself for a while, and he gladly took off his shoes and started climbing and sliding very cheerfully. He loved getting to do it and getting to climb the 'big kid' ladders that were there on his own. He did great. I don't have to spot him, at all, the way we had to on the trip last July. He's agile and strong enough to do it all on his own.
When the soccer players were done with the game, they all came over in a rush, with their parents behind him. Jet loved chasing them. I just watched him, and the soccer parents just ignored me on the most part. Jet tried to do everything the six-year-olds were doing, and he did nearly all of it pretty well. He laughed with them, and tried his level best to play with them. But they left for dinner without really including him in particular.
Afterwards he observed, "They didn't talk to me."
I nodded and said quietly, "Their parents didn't talk to me, either. Maybe we should have said, 'Hi.' to them and said that we've just moved in or something." He thought about it, too.
I'm not an extrovert by nature, and it's hard for me to be social when I'm tired. Good excuses, I guess, and I realized that maybe I should try those kinds of things so that Jet has an example of how to talk to other people and 'make friends'.
Jet asked me to pick him up on the way back to the house, and I picked him up and carried him home, snuggled up against me. We got warm chocolate milk for both of us, and curled up together on the couch and got good and warm after the sun and wind outside. We watched some cartoons together, and he was pretty tired and pretty quiet.
When everyone came home, Jet and I joined in the unpacking, and then we all got into swimsuits and explored the now functioning hot tub. Ahhhh... there are six seats, plenty of jets, and it's good and hot against really sore muscles. Jet mostly stood up, half out of the water. He spent some time up to his neck, but mostly he seemed to be regulating his body temperature well enough that I think it'll be safe for him. We also turned down the heat a little. But we all were much happier and much more relaxed afterwards. Jet cheerfully announced, "My owies go away!" when we got out. So he may well have been a little sore from everything that was going on, too.
A bowlful of ice cream, a little news, a little FoodTV and Jet went to sleep as quickly as turning off a light. I feel good enough from the hot tub that I think I'll sleep well as well. About time...