Why Are We So Adultish?

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Last Sunday was potentially the best day ever on record.

I mean, if we ignore the fact that he told me to ‘go away’ when he first saw me. After that he was all hugs and kisses.

On the way to the swimming pool we played a real fun game: I pretend to put my hand in a holly bush and hurt myself and he grabs my hand and kisses it better. He thinks it is hilarious when I hurt myself. I try not to be offended.  And then we bowled into the swimming pool and pranced around and played chase and I pretended to be a shark and Sonny kept dunking my head under the water which was fun and also kind of dangerous because he had no concept of how long I could hold me breath for. I nearly drowned.

But it was worth it for the LOLs. We had all the LOLs.

When we were getting changed in the cubicles I could hear someone telling off a child for being silly, and they said, “Stop being so childish!” Meanwhile, in a changing room a few doors down, myself and Sonny were, instead of getting changed, emptied out a whole bottle of talcum powder with great force onto our heads and bodies. It got me thinking, why are we so quick to tell a child to stop being a child, yet we rarely tell another adult to stop being so adulty? As a society we respect adulthood far more than childhood.

  What I have grown to realise, is that adults are just children in disguise.

I feel conned by adulthood. Genuinely I feel like it is a hoax. When I was younger I used to think, “wow I can’t wait to be an adult! Look at them all, knowing about everything and being so wise and clever!”  And then you grow up and suddenly you are expected to be an adult. And you wish you were a kid again, putting mud in your hair or pretending to be a dog, instead of trying to get your head around interest rates and how best to remove a wine stain from the carpet.

So when did we all stop playing? And why? It is so fun. And so important, and the most efficient way to learn. And generally makes all involved very happy.

Sonny taught me that. He is really quite a good teacher, though I doubt he knows it.

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Miss You Son!

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I didn’t get to see Sonny last weekend, as he was ill! (But according to his mum, he was asking for me on Sunday, which pretty much broke my heart.)

But not seeing him has made me realise just how much he means to me. I miss him so much!

Whenever I tell people what I do, one of the things they say is, ‘oh that must be really hard, what a selfless job!’ It is hard, as most jobs are, but it is definitely not selfless.

I get so much out of seeing Sonny, and when I don’t see him (like this last weekend) I really feel like I have missed out. If anything, I have a selfish need to see him. He makes me laugh like no other, he teaches me like no other, and we get to do cool stuff and mince around London together.

I think its fair to say I am attached to that small little man of little words, and I think its fair to say he is attached to me. To have a trusting relationship with another is so important to growth and development for children, especially those with developmental difficulties, like Sonny. But I suppose in terms of working with children, it can be bad for the child to get too attached, because they can come to depend too much on the adult. And what if that adult doesn’t work with them anymore? In a school setting I agree with this, as it can really affect a child’s development if that attachment is disrupted or broken. But with Sonny, I kind of feel like he is a younger brother I get to see every weekend.

And I imagine I will be in his life forever now (If his parents allow it!) Well, or until he’s had enough of me, (which I hope will never happen!)

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