My Sensitive Girl

Seth here, with a quick story about my sweet, little girl.

Background: For the last 2 years, I have been driving to work in a beat-up, '92 Pontiac Bonnyville. Although this car has definitely been a blessing (we got it for free soon after Benj was born and right at the time when I started a new job and we needed two cars for the first time in our lives), but it has also been a "thorn in my flesh": i.e., something that God has used to humble me, test me, and refine me. So when the brakes on it wore out about a month ago and we knew we would soon be buying a minivan, we decided not to fix it and I rejoiced that I finally didn't have drive that car around anymore.

Well, we bought a minivan last week and we found a needy college student who is gratefully taking this bucket of bolts off of our hands. So today Kiersten, the kids, and I took the car to the shop to get the brakes fixed, and the transfer will happen tomorrow (Lord willing). I am meeting the college student at the shop in the morning and we are going from there to the government office to file the paperwork, so I knew this would be the last time the kids would see "Daddy's car."

So as we were about to pull away, I joyfully told the kids, "Wave bye-bye to Daddy's car. You won't see it anymore." And Benj gladly complied.

But poor Talia immediately burst into tears. Kiersten & I, rather shocked, asked her what was wrong. She was too upset to speak clearly, but I made out "daddy's car," so I asked her if she was upset because she wasn't going to see daddy's car anymore. Through her tears, she sadly said, "Yes."

After I stopped laughing (and while Kiersten was trying to stop laughing), I explained to her that we don't need 3 cars and that the silver car that used to be mommy's car will now be daddy's car. She eventually calmed down and even took a little nap while we were our running an errand, but she really didn't cheer up until we were pulling into McDonald's for lunch.

My poor, sensitive girl. I guess if you look at things from her perspective, all her life that car has been part of daddy's identity, so parting with it was hard. It will be interesting to see how that sensitivity (and desire for stability?) plays itself out when she is older.

Mr. Contrary

Is it just age 3? Lately Benjamin has been Mr. Contrary! For example:

Talia: "I see a bird."
Benj: "I don't see a bird."
(repeat until Talia dissolves into frustrated tears)

or

Benj: "What is that sound?"
Me: "It's that blue car that just drove by."
Benj: "It's not a blue car."

or

Benj: "There's Daddy's car."
Me: "That's Daddy's old car, now he drives the silver car we used to drive."
Benj: "Nope. No he doesn't."

I'm a bit confused about this whole post-modern denial of solid fact. The "nuh-uh/uh-huh" route seems a bit childish, but that's what these conversations feel like!

So...time to comment! This is a bit of a departure from my norm, but I would love to hear from all you wise parents about your experiences with contrary-ness and your ideas for weeding out that argumentative spirit.

Daddy/Daughter & Mama/Son Dates

Saturday night Seth took Talia and I took Benjamin on "dates." We have been wanting to do this for awhile, but had just never gotten it scheduled. I helped Talia "get pretty" while Seth briefed Benj on his manly responsibilities (take care of Mama, hold her hand and give her lots of hugs and kisses).

Here's a snippet from Seth about their experience (I stole this from an email he wrote):
[It] is ... awesome to take your 2-year-old daughter on a date to get a Wendy's frosty and then to the pet store to see some animals. "Want to see pish ... Da bird say, 'Tweet, tweet, tweet.' ... Hi, kitty." It just melts a father's heart.

Benj & I went to the mall where we got a dairy-free banana berry smoothie at DQ (I gave Benj the money to pay. He was so proud of himself!) We settled down to drink it on a comfy chair close to his favorite attraction at the mall: the "jumpers." (A bungee-jumping-type place where they harness you to a huge structure and you can jump to ridiculous heights.) After we finished our smoothie we looked for a fun store to go into. Benj picked Hallmark (?) where we found some pretty fun animated stuffed animals to play with. He especially loved the little "jitter" bunnies--you pull their tail and they jitter across the floor. His favorite game was making his bunny & my bunny crash. :)

What fun memories!

Well Said!

I received this article in my inbox today. It made me wish for a moment that it might be appropriate to hand out photocopies next time I am traveling with my children. Instead I'll be content to post it here. Who knows, maybe some of you know these people and you can set them straight!

__________________

A friend recently sent me a link to a blog that started with a mother asking the advice of others about how to travel with her several small children across the country by plane during the holidays-to visit a sick father, as it turned out.

What was fairly shocking was the amount of virulent anti-child feeling that her question elicited, with comments such as she should just stay home, and why didn't she think of that before she had the children?

Now, granted, I have had my share of annoying experiences with kids kicking the back of my seat and wailing babies. But the idea that parents and their children do not have the right to participate in the world with the rest of us is deplorable.

There is probably not a one of us who has not felt the grip of desperation when our young children just were unable to be reasonable and self-controlled when out in public; when fatigue and strangeness made them into persons with whom we would rather not have admitted kinship.

The very unpredictability of small children reminds me of my puppy. At nine months, she elicits a lot of attention, with perfect strangers walking up to ask if they can pet my dog. I feel quite justified in saying that I can't really predict how this puppy will behave.

Why should parents and kids not be allowed the same latitude of tolerance and distance?

Surely those of us who are not currently in the throes of parenting young children can have a modicum of sympathy for those parents who are trying to get through an experience with their out-of-control offspring.

Whatever happened to the notion that we're all in this together, that those of us who are coping okay can lend a hand to those who need some extra help?

Parents are able to do their best job of being patient when they feel supported, not harassed. When children feel that their parents are calm and in control, that helps them remember the life lessons they are gradually learning about appropriate behavior.

Why should parents even have to ask for the help and tolerance of onlookers, who have no doubt been in similar positions at some point in their lives?

Surely as a people we have not become so caught up in our own lives and preferences that we cannot help and support parents in doing their most important work -- guiding their young children and getting them through new or difficult situations.

So, whether you are a parent who has found yourself in situations where you desperately feel the need for help and support, or someone who could easily give that help (rather than disapproval), let's remember that it is in the best interests of us all to help children feel that the world around them supports them and their parents. Then they will want to become a part of that loving community, and we all are strengthened.

© Growing Child 2009

__________________

Having already betrayed my agreement with the author, I do have to insert here that I also believe we as parents of small children have a responsibility to remember, model, and teach our children the "preciousness of others." This is a concept that reflects a belief that other people are 1) more important than ourselves and 2) valuable to God and therefore to be treated with value (by us).

It is not appropriate for me as a mother to consider only the preferences and needs of my small family when making decisions that will affect a larger body of people. For example, it is my preference that our children maintain a minimal intake of sugar on a normal day. When we travel, however, I pack large quantities of tasty treats in our carry-on luggage, knowing that a bag of VeggieTales fruit snacks may well be a useful distraction from an ill-timed temper tantrum. Under normal circumstances we do not believe it would be appropriate for us to dissuade undesirable behavior through bribery or distraction. Our normal pattern when dealing with a temper tantrum is to confront and discipline. But when we are traveling we consider that the comfort of the people around us is more important, in that moment, than our overall parenting goals. Our temporary goal becomes to quiet our screamer as quickly as possible in order to show respect to those around us and to demonstrate to our children the preciousness of others.

I do not believe, therefore, that "parents who are trying to get through an experience with their out-of-control offspring" should feel as though they deserve a "blank check" merely because they are accompanied by miniature people. It is not my right as a parent to inflict the certain ill-behavior of my children on a crowd of unsuspecting travelers. It is my responsibility to exercise my authority over my children and if "out-of-control" characterizes their behavior on a regular basis common courtesy would dictate that I make other arrangements.