Helping Kids Negotiate Their Own Relationships

“Don’t touch my butt, Mary Louise!” Claire says, as I hold her in my arms in solidarity.

“All I did was go like this,” Claire’s cousin says, patting her backside gently.

“I know, ML. You didn’t do anything wrong," I say. "Claire’s just telling you what she needs."

I’m completely down with helping my two year old advocate for herself in the face of her nine-year-old cousin. It's part of learning how to negotiate relationships in life. But it’s hard not to laugh at the content of the conversation. I haven’t taken butts so seriously since I was a kid myself.

But, today, I’m in the role of referee and spirit guide. It’s about the fifth time in an hour that Claire’s raced up from the downstairs playroom to scream bloody murder about some indignity that one of the two of her much older cousins has done to her.

A few times, Claire couldn’t keep up with them and they were too rough for her two-year-old tastes. Other times, Claire was doing something typically toddler, and the cousins decided she was completely wrong and needed to be strong-armed into reconsidering the error of her ways.

Let’s call it a mini-generation gap.

The adults sit in the living room, sipping wine. Each time Claire runs upstairs, her Grammy worries that she’s going to get pummeled and/or will have an existential crisis about not having anyone her own age to play with. Grammy wants someone to go downstairs and supervise.

I get it. It was much easier when Claire was a baby and social negotiations only happened between her and adults.

But navigating relationships is a lifelong occupation. Claire might as well get started learning social dynamics now. The reality is that I won't always be there to help her, so it's best that I teach her how to speak her mind when she needs to.

And she’s doing a great job so far, in my eyes. Today, the pupil did well, regards butts and such.

Plus, I’m happy to have a few moments sans child to converse with adults about things other than butts, while a couple of ersatz babysitters watch Claire. They might be a little rough around the edges, but, as the saying goes, “You get what you pay for.”

The bigger issue is that Claire's going to have a lifetime of being the much younger cousin. That’s her lot in life. There’s no way to predict the outcome – good or bad. Actually, it’s probably more likely that her relationship with her cousins will result in both good and bad.

Claire’s older cousins will probably push her in ways that will teach her resilience and make her stronger. Sometimes, they will just plain push her.

It’s hard to sit back, and wait to see whether Claire will blossom or falter in her relationships -- cousin or otherwise. But it’s part of that inevitable mom process of letting go. Just like I can’t predict what’s going to happen, I have a limited ability to control it too.

Hopefully, Claire will read this post one day when she’s older, and let me know how it all turned out. I anxiously await hearing about it. My fingers are crossed that her journey is filled with more blossoming than faltering. Only time will tell.

One thing's for sure...I will be here to celebrate the triumphs and to catch her when she falls.

I'll be here in case she needs to have more conversations about butts too.

Photo Source: Tups Wanders, Flickr This photo has been adapted and does not suggest that the licenser endorses me, its use or this blog. License

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Welcome to The Sunday Parenting Party, hosted by Dirt and Boogers, Play Activities, Crayon Freckles, Taming the Goblin, The Golden Gleam, Prickly Mom, and The Tao of Poop. The SPP is place for readers to find ideas on nurturing, educating, and caring for children, as well as honest posts about the stresses of being a parent or caregiver. Links to reviews and giveaways are welcome as long as they are relevant to the topic. All parenting philosophies are welcome with one exception: please do not link to posts promoting physical discipline, as this is something we would feel uncomfortable having on our blogs. (P.S. By linking up you agree that your post and photos are Pinterest, Sulia, G+ and FB friendly. We will be showcasing ideas on The Sunday Parenting Party Pinterest board.)

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Check out this week's SPP features from two of my faves,

Lanaya, Raising Reagan: It's Only My Fifth Outfit Today: Letting Go

Jen, My Skewed View: Wimpy Babysitters Need Not Apply

This Time is Ours

I am composed of decades of history. Claire's history starts with me. 

I possess many identities. "Mama" is the only one Claire knows.

I struggle to remember being so young. Claire lives fully in the present without reflection.

I'm in awe of these distinctions. We see one another across a divide of time and experience.

Yet, we share an intimacy begun in the womb. Singularly, I am her mother. She is my child. I am humbled by such grace. I am overwhelmed by the weight of its responsibility also.

Parts of me have become neglected, the ones other than "mama", the ones from before her. I feel them flicker inside, exhorting me not to forget them.

But Claire began inside me too. She grows, still, in my gaze. It reflects back to her who she is and who she will become.

This kind of love only a mother knows, only she can give. It means that pieces of me lay fallow, for awhile. Claire won't be little for long. A day will come soon when I'm not the center of her world. 

Then, Claire will have her own mix of identities. They will have grown out of the relationship we are building now. 

This time is ours. I wish to savor it greedily.


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The ABC's of Feelings

Happy Hippo, Angry Duck

My daughter's first primer of emotions. We've been reading Sandra Boynton's Happy Hippo, Angry Duck to her since she was an infant. Teaching her about feelings is as important to our family as learning the alphabet.

I never learned how to make friends with my feelings as a child. Squash them down like a bug was more like it. In my family, showing emotion is considered a sign of weakness.

I'd like for my toddler, Claire, to learn to hold hands with her feelings, as she makes her way on this winding road called life. Over the years, I've witnessed how emotions tend to come out sideways if you don't.  

When I'm my best self, I'm able to put into practice what the experts suggest about helping children nurture their emotional self, such as learning to acknowledge feelings and name emotions. At other times, I realize that I still need to grow my own emotional life...and I'm just a wee bit older than the tender age of a child...

When Claire's angry and throwing one of her toddler fits (which involves a howl like a combination of a scream and crying). I try to breathe and soothe myself. But I feel my blood pressure rising. I feel like she's playing the violin on an attenuated nerve in my neck. I know she's got it in for me and only me, and I want to yell, "STOP! YOU'RE GIVING ME A CORONARY!"

Or when she's scared of the balloon; yes, I hold her and comfort her. Yet my own anxiety rises. "What? She's afraid of a balloon?" I think, as I project strange stories into thin air about my daughter's now entirely fraught future. "She's going to be afraid of everything! How's she going to manage in life, if she's scared of a balloon?!" I have to fight the urge to diminish her fear. I want so badly to say something like, "That's not scary. It's just a balloon!"

The worst is when she's sad. I want to sweep that icky feeling away like it's the bogeyman! I can't stand it when she's sad. When I see tears of hurt running down her face, I want to immediately make her feel better, bypass the big, bad emotion altogether. "Don't worry. Don't be sad. Let's make it better!," I find myself wanting to say -- discounting her feelings altogether instead of making space for her psychic reality.

Really, that's what I want to do with all of her emotions: make space for them. In my own life, I have found that when I invite my feelings along for the ride, they allow me to be the one in the driver's seat. I would like for my daughter to be the one driving too. 

Most of the time, I'm able to keep my thoughts in my head and let Claire be right where she needs to be. But it's far from easy. I find it hard enough just allowing me to be me, let alone Claire. 

Maybe, I need to start consulting the feelings book more often, as well.


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Photo Source: Pink Sherbet Photography, Fotopedia. This photo has been adapted and does not suggest that the licenser endorses me, its use or this blog.  License