I'll do it myself!

My parents tell a story. They think I was about 3 at the time. We were at a planetarium and they (obviously) have to turn out all the lights to see the stars. I got scared and my dad had to take me out. As we sat outside, he looked at me and asked me why I had been scared. He told me “nobody else was scared”.

As the story goes, I looked at my dad, stared him directly in the eyes and stated. “Well… they are them and I’m me.”.Hmmm…. I told him.

 And I had told him. I had told him exactly who I am. I didn’t care what someone else did or did not like. They were them and I was me. I could like or not like whatever I chose. So there.

 The other day, after nap, my daughter was sitting at the table eating a goldfish snack. She was focused in that fun way. She was picking up each and every goldfish and telling me about its travels before she ate it. One fish was swimming to school and another was swimming to chick-Fil-A. Yet another fish was jumping in and out of the pretend water. Such creativity in that little mind.

I gazed at her and realized that no little girl had ever been so beautiful.

So, I asked her. “Honey, are you mommy’s beautiful girl?” She smiled at me and proudly stated. “No! I am MY girl!” Ahhh… Like mother like daughter. She wasn’t MY anything. She was all HERS. Hmmmm… I wonder where she got that particular personality trait. Certainly NOT from me… J (Insert sheepish expression here)

I am so in for it when she’s a teenager. If I need a glass of wine now, I’ll need the whole bottle to myself then. Sigh.

My son has strength of individuality, but he doesn’t quite display it the same way. I don’t imagine that he would “tell me” like she did. He’s like his dad. He’d probably sit quietly, listen to me, then go do whatever he felt was right for him without calling attention to himself. That’s what he does now.

I wonder which way is healthier?

What ARE they thinking?

My children are in preschool this year, their first year. I love their school and the benefits they are reaping from being there.  I read the daily reports from the teacher and I want to go to school with them. How fun it must be!

As I was thinking about next year (yes, it’s that time again…) I started the process again. This time, much more confident and in control. Instead of feeling like the car was driving me, I felt like I was driving the car. The difference felt great.

But something very important occurred to me this time. My kids are so very fortunate. They have access to a level of intellectual stimulation that will allow their little child brains to grow so successfully. And it started early. When they were infants, we chatted to them while we held and rocked them… talk about what we were seeing, smelling and touching. When they got older, we counted steps while helping them navigate up and down, and teaching them numbers as well as practicing their gross motor skills.

In the car, we sing and talk about the sites around us.

And while I think it’s wonderful that our family is doing this, we are not the only ones. Thank goodness we’re not. There are millions of families out there, doing exactly the same thing, populating our planet with future thinkers.

We recently  took the kids to our local Air and Space museum. “Wow” is all I can say. It’s fantastic. It wasn’t the first time, but I always forget how cool it is. We told the kids about our trip the night before and my son ran for the door yelling “put my shoes on”. He wanted to go right away. He was seriously mad when he found out that he had to go to bed first, and wait till the next day. It was pretty funny

But once there, here’s what I noticed. Have you ever looked into the eyes of a happily stimulated child? They sparkle. They open wide and it seems like they never blink. Like they are afraid to miss something. They giggle and smile. And when they see something they like, their mouths freeze in the current position in awe.  You can practically see the neurons firing and intelligence and creativity expanding.

I just began teaching a really cool science fiction/fantasy world class for middle school age kids. We plan and write stories with our own fictional worlds. We create villain masks, and 3D maps of the worlds we create. How awesome is that?

The first class, we discussed the logistics of creating a successful world. We discussed character development and the necessity for detail orientation. We discussed the need for a clear and simple plot.

Then one of the kids raised his hand, tentatively. It was like he was concerned about the repercussions of his question.

I smiled encouragingly. “Do you have a question?”

He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes in concentration. “Can our main character be our villain?”

I smiled. “Oh yes!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

I looked him directly in the eye. “Absolutely! And you know what else?”

His jaw dropped. There was more?

“What?” he asked.

“He can win.”

Total silence. Then suddenly, enormous smiles around the room. They got it. They believed me. It only took about 30 minutes into the first class, and they GOT IT.  They could basically create whatever they wanted, as long as it was appropriate and attention was paid to quality planning and thinking. From that point on, I got some fantastic ideas from the kids. One boy wanted to write about a planet made of dust and sand but is struggling with what the living population of the planet should look like. We didn’t have time to figure it out, but we’ll put some good mental energy into the solution next week. And no… I have no intention of giving him the answer. The solution will be all him. My job is to help him think… not think for him.

I wonder what kind of creative thought my kids will have when they are in middle school.  I’ll have to be very careful, between now and then, to not think for them. To help them think instead. To foster their creativity. After all, I don’t want to accidentally squash a great idea.

Invisible Fences

So, we put our kids into “big kid beds”. Ok, not really. What we really did was remove one side of their cribs, attach a safety bar (so they won’t roll out by accident) and attach a little step ladder to help them climb in and out.

That’s really just splitting hairs, though. They may be sleeping in the same sleeping structure as they previously did, but they are no longer trapped in bed. They could get out whenever they want. Hmmm….

My husband did the work while I was downstairs with the kids and when I saw him coming downstairs with two crib side rails in his hands, I sort of cringed. It was just as much my idea, but I cringed anyway. Goodbye peaceful adult time when the kids are in bed and not asleep. Hello kid proofing the bedrooms so that when they get out of bed and make a mess, it’s not dangerous. Just annoying.

We figured it would be a good idea to let them see their new beds before bedtime, so we asked them to come upstairs. My daughter took one look at her bed and starting giggling. She began jumping up and down. When we suggested she climb into her bed ALL BY HERSELF, she went nuts with joy. She spent the next 15 minutes climbing in and out of bed, alternating with running down the hall shrieking in absolute glee. My son was mildly hesitant initially, but once he saw my daughter’s reaction, he wanted to do the same with his bed.

When it came time for bed that night, they were pleased as punch to climb in ALL BY THEMSELVES. They were so proud.

But here’s the funny part. They didn’t get out of bed that first night. Or at their nap (or rather non-nap) the next day. They played in bed but never got out. You might say it’s because we told them not to and they are good at following rules. But they’re NOT good rule followers. In fact, they normally do the opposite of what we tell them these days. They are 3, after all. So here’ my theory on why they didn’t get out of bed.

I think they didn’t realize they could. I think it didn’t occur to them.  Tonight is night #2. So far so good. Not that I want my kids to see life as a series of limitations, but in this case… well… Yeah. I want them to see the limitations so I can relax.

And, as always… it got me thinking…

How many times have you been asked why you didn’t do something to solve a problem? You know. Something that would have helped you in a difficult situation. And when you are asked why you didn’t, you wanted to smack yourself on the forehead because you should have thought of it, but you didn’t. It just never occurred to you.

I know that I suffer from this “invisible barrier” way too often. I convince myself that something is out of my reach or I simply do not see a possible solution to my problem. I often lack creativity under significant stress.

My husband is the opposite. He does his best thinking under stress. It’s like the pressure ignites his creative planning instead of stalling it. I envy that, being the opposite. How fortunate he is. I’d love that have that trait. He’s the one who suggests that way “outside the box” solution that makes it all work out.

Our kids will love him for that.

I’m going to have to remember this, next time I find myself in the center of a complex problem. I will have to make a point of NOT getting stuck in my symbolic crib when I could easily just climb out. The solution might be just on the other side of the door.

The true definition of victory...

My son has many strengths, and they will no doubt propel him to many successes in his life. Patience, however, is not one of them. Especially patience for food when he’s really hungry. It’s like the waiting tortures him, the poor kid. His bottom lip protrudes and his whole face turns bright red. Tomato red, actually. Big alligator tears start to fall and his body goes limp. It probably would be funny if it weren’t my job to manage it in public. We have been working with him, attempting to teach him to wait. Maintain his frustration. Avoid emotional explosions.

 He loves Pizza. Ok, most people love pizza. But he REALLY loves it. He loves his food, but pizza is at the top of the list. No question.

 So we went to a birthday party at one of those cool jump places. I love those places. Huge inflatable structures to jump on, stairs to climb up and slides to slide down. How cool is that? Playtime was followed by a pizza lunch and cake. As we were entering the lunch/party room, the attendant informed us that pizza was already on the table, but the kids should wait to eat until we sang to the birthday girl.

 Oh crap. This was not going to go down peacefully.

 I took a deep breath and we entered. It’s fair to say that I entered with trepidation. My kids spotted the pizza and squealed with glee. They climbed up into their seats. My son reached for his food but I held his hand back gently. He yelled, objecting. I quietly explained to both my kids that we needed to wait for the birthday girl. My daughter acknowledged my words and waited, albeit reluctantly. My son… well… he needed to be asked again.  Bottom lip began to protrude and the red crept into his face. I took a deep breath. He started to cry. That little cry that leaves you with no doubt, this was only the beginning.

 I picked him up, hugged him, and felt his little body trembling. The big cry never came. At first I was shocked. And that was when it hit me. He was trying to control himself. He got it. He knew what we wanted from him and he was trying like hell to deliver it. His little body shook and his lips trembled. His big blue eyes filled up with tears and gazed at me pleading. He was asking me for help.

 And that was when my heart broke.

 We have all struggled with something that we could not quite control. Situations that invoke intense emotions despite our best efforts to hold them all back. As a middle school teacher I would often quietly ask a student if he/she wanted to go to the bathroom when I could see they were about to cry and were afraid to talk, lest they accidentally break their stoic façade. . They would escape gratefully ever time. I don’t know about you, but I hate crying in public. The feeling is bad enough without witnesses.  An audience is like adding insult to injury.

 And so, as I held my darling little son, I kissed his cheek and I rubbed his back. I assured him that I knew he was trying so hard to be patient and that he was such a good boy. I told him that I was proud of him, so proud of him. I told him that I loved him, so much. His eyes met mine and he knew. I swear he knew.

 We sang happy birthday and he got to eat his pizza. He consumed it with pride and was a model child for the remainder of the party. I think, in the grand scheme of things, that we are going to chalk this one up to a victory. He’s still such a little boy and his progress today was noteworthy.

 Oh, and to the mom of the birthday girl. The one who noticed the scene and sped up the process of singing Happy Birthday to ease my stress.  The one who made the needs of my son a priority despite the fact that the day was about her daughter. Thank you. Your willingness to help did not go unnoticed.