Sometimes I think I take for granted what a sweet, well-behaved little boy Liam is. Don't get me wrong. He has his moments. Like this morning (or pretty much any morning) when he had to get dressed (gasp!) and was mad about everything from lack of instant access to the correct wardrobe item to having to take care of his own personal hygiene. When I told him (again) not to talk to me in that kind of yelling mean voice - that it's not OK for him to talk to Mommy and Daddy like that - he said, "But if someone takes my toy I'll say, in a serious voice, 'That's my toy. I was using it. Give it back.'"
Now part of me wanted to yank him back to the topic at hand because you can bet that in any situation where I'm trying to define good and acceptable behavior to him his little mind is frantically looking for the exceptions and his little mouth is soon spouting them. But more of me was thinking back to the other day when he was playing with the neighbor kids at the water table. They had fewer pairs of goggles than kids and they almost all wanted to put them on and dunk their heads under the water. (Not the baby. She just wanted to drink the water from the table out of a cup and pour it over her own shoulder so she could be surprised when it ran down her back.) Several rounds of negotiations had already taken place regarding goggle sharing when a timer was set and all the children were warned that the table activities would end when it went off in seven minutes. A few minutes later I realized that Liam was standing a few feet from the table watching. He did not have a pair of goggles. I encouraged him to ask another child to share some because I had a pretty strong feeling that if he didn't get another turn before time ran out he would be pretty disappointed. And at least one child was pretty much ignoring the goggles he was wearing on his head. Liam waded back into the fray and the disaster was averted.
After the table was emptied a really great puddle was left on the driveway and Liam and Little Sis started jumping up and down in it. But a few minutes later Big Bro (who is five, but really physically coordinated) was poised a few feet away on his two wheel bike and Liam was shouting "Out of the way 'Little Sis'! Out of the way!" The kid's mom thought this was because Liam wanted to jump in that particular spot, but I figured it was because he would rather warn the little girl of her brother's approach than watch her get a set of tire tracks across her back. Sure enough, when BB was advised that this was not a good place to ride his bike Liam was happy to jump beside LS in the puddle.
I am not fishing for complements here about how great of a parent I am for having taught my little boy this kind of compassion or concern. I can tell you for sure that the mom of the little boy who was poised to race inches away from his sister and neighbor (and really, very unlikely to actually injure them) has spent way more time than me talking to her children about how to treat others, how to act when a "guest" is at there house, how to share and most of all, how to be careful. I know that she models this kind of behavior and reinforces it whenever she gets a chance. I do not, in any way, want to imply that I have discovered some secret to parenting that she has not.
I just need to remind myself sometimes that this is the flip side of having a child who is so deeply and passionately invested in relationships. This is the little boy who as a baby woke up 20 minutes after being laid down - no matter how deeply you thought he was sleeping - unless he was in direct contact with another human being. Who as a toddler cried when I set him down in the living room in the morning (surrounded by his toys) and turned to to use the bathroom. (And who later, when he finally started walking, followed me into the bathroom, closed the door, and said, "You are having privacy.") This is the preschooler who asks a hundred questions at meal time and takes four bites.
Honestly, my parenting secret is that I roll my eyes and sigh over these types of behaviors a dozen times a day. It's easy for me to overlook the awesome characteristics that underlie them and just wish for a day that went a little smoother. But if he were less intense in his need to connect with the people around him he would be less concerned about their well-being and less hesitant to wade into a situation and assert his rights.
My point is that sometimes, in the midst of doing the next thing that needs to be done in spite of the fact that it feels impossible and like the last thing I want to do, I actually get the chance to notice that I have a very sweet and wonderful human being growing up under my care. I hope I can be aware of it more and frustrated less!
No comments:
Post a Comment