We have been told that our son has an old soul. Our four year old never woke us up screaming in the middle of the night while teething. When sick he played as hard as when he was well. At two years old he was toddling around the house to help us, didn't get into or tear up everything. He never hit the "terrible two's" never got into the "horrific three's" and now that he is four he still has the same laid back, taking everything in stride personality that he has always had. My husband and I feel very blessed to have such a well mannered, calm little guy as he is the exact opposite of our daughter when she was his age.
Just before he turned three and was beginning to have conversations with us, some things that we had observed him doing started making sense. It unnerved us, but in the scheme of things, he was little by little allowing us into his life and letting us know what he sees. Of course, some of it we had to figure out what he was really saying and we may have jumped to some conclusions at first, but once words and their meanings became clearer to him, he gave us great detailed descriptions of what was "bouncing around".
Anyone with children knows that when their child starts the journey into the spoken word, most of it sounds like jumbled words and phrases that do not seem to quite fit the rest of the sentence. With him he had a long issuance of sounds that we did not recognize, the family (immediate and extended) began working heavily with him on the pronunciation of words. Half the time he spoke English (That is technically the only language he had long exposure to. The neighbors spoke Spanish, but rarely to him) and the other half were a combination of clicking and almost humming sounds, so therefore we began looking into speech therapy for him.
We have always enjoyed his imagination. Even now he prefers to be alone with his "friends" but doesn't mind the intrusion when we come in. He regals us with stories of his friends Belle and Justin. We did not want that destroyed. With us being in our late thirties and early forties we know how easy it is to lose the ability to let our minds tell us a story. Plus our daughter had gone through therapy with a psychologist and the results were explosive (That is in a different post). So we were apprehensive about the therapy sessions. Even knowing it was a different therapy, different children, the offices were in the same building, but where we could afford to take him at the time.
He went to two sessions. In the first session the entire hour was video and audio taped. I did not like that. Several years from now someone may be going through old records and find these tapes and there will be my innocent angel up on the screen. I couldn't imagine anything untoward happening, but the unease was there. The second session we watched and listened to bits and pieces of the first while the therapist shook her head and told us that on initial observation, it would appear that he was talking to someone and waiting for answers. In her opinion, he was just having fun with a friend and he had "made up" a language that they could have secret conversations with. She recommended a psychologist.
After two consultations, we decided that no further action would be taken. We would just patiently try to teach him to slow down and enunciate words. That would be the solution. There was nothing in his life pointing to a psychological problem, he was just having problems with words.
Then he said the darnedest thing. We have an open relationship with our children. They are encouraged to come to either one of us with anything and we TRY to, with an open mind, help, support and love them through anything that they are going through. My terminally ill father-in-law lives with us (Higher Power love him for hanging on this long) so religion is a big part of our lives, but we do not discuss the "ins and outs" of life before and after our physical being with our four year old. ANY conversation to that effect is usually with my daughter and in a room with a closed door out of respect to my father-in-law who is on that brink.
One day we were checking out Daddy's race car (He races a mini-stock locally, nothing big and fancy, just an old mustang) and our son was playing in the drivers seat. Out of the blue he says something to the effect of:
"This is why I chose you, Daddy..."
Smiling, Daddy asked him how he was able to choose him when he was a miracle baby that surprised both Mama and Daddy.
He told us that while he was up in Heaven checking out all the Mama's and Daddy's and trying to pick out the perfect ones, he noticed Sissy first. She needed help. Then he noticed Daddy. Our son would sit on a cloud with his feet hanging down and swinging and just watching him. He liked what he saw and began checking me out. He knows that something was keeping Mama from having another baby, but he wanted us, so he came. He said his Daddy needed someone else to love as he had such a good heart and he knew there was enough to go around. Daddy would need help with his hobbies and needed a boy to hang out with.
Some facts: Between the birth of our daughter, now fifteen, and our son, now four, we had three miscarriages. We were told that I am just not a natural born baby carrier, and we should just "be happy" with the child that we had (My husband has three other children by a previous marriage that he was prevented in seeing by the ex-wife. Big ugly mess that whole thing is) and accept that there would be no others. At three months pregnant I began having difficulties, almost lost him, and was put on complete bed rest. While in a depressed state I was introduced to my Spirit Guide (a White Buffalo) who literally carried me through. I am Italian and, no blonds or red heads in as many generations that my parents have knowledge of. My husband is half Cherokee Indian, quarter Blackfoot. His father is Cherokee, his mother Cherokee/Blackfoot. No blonde's there. Our son is blond and blue eyed. His name has the number three in it.
I'm not sure that numerology has any kind of play into this. I'm not sure I believe that things can be determined by numerology. Then again, I'm not sure how numerology works. But all the threes... My Guide and my son have the same color hair. Would anyone happen to have some kind of explanation on how he came up with the Heaven story or why he seems to act older than four? And what with the made up language that he still slips into on occasion, any one know what that may be?