Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.
"SOMETIME THE QUESTIONS ARE COMPLICATED AND THE ANSWERS ARE SIMPLE."
Dr. Seuss
Come to think of it, isn't most of life like this? Last week, Honey Bunny was participating in a week long rock and roll camp in Charlotte. This meant that Boo Bear, Honey Bunny and I had to get up around 6am and had an hour drive into the city with traffic and then Boo Bear and I had to find things to do on the cheap. Granted, we found MANY things to do on the cheap in Charlotte and had a wonderful time learning and living; but what sticks out most in my mind is a short interaction I had with one mom at Imaginon, the children's library.
It was a hot day, about 90 degrees out. Boo Bear really wanted to go to the children's library because it is so much fun. 8 hours in a library. Okay. It should be quiet and low key, right? NO! It was full of screaming babies, yelling parents and unhappy people. I was in shock and over stimulated. All I wanted to do was go outside into the city for quiet! An oxymoron, I know: city/quiet. Well, compared to inside Imaginon, even a NYC subway would have been quiet!
I loved that Boo Bear was able to work with me and my needs for some peace because I respected her need to play at Imaginon. Due to our relationship being based on mutual respect, there was no arguing or disappointment when I told her I needed a break and was over stimulated. After taking a respite from the crying babies and yelling parents, I felt better. Who wouldn't after some affordable sushi, a vegan/gf chocolate cookie, a walk in the sunshine and a visit to a quiet library?
When we re-entered Imaginon, it was a bit more quiet. Perhaps it was nap time? I don't know. What I do know is Honey Bunny found another little girl to play with and did dress up and had a wonderful time in their Fairy Tales theater set up. Then it happened. The crowds began to come back in.
By this point, I was on overload. Too much visual stimulation. Too much auditory stimulation. Too much human interaction with people who were not respectful of one another. That stresses me out. I truly dislike it.
I heard massive screaming. The scream of a child who does NOT want to be there. I was beginning to get annoyed. How couldn't the parent there not hear what was going on? Why would they ignore it? I went to investigate. There, around the corner, on the floor was a little guy screaming his head off. The mom looked totally flustered.
I walked over, smiled at her and said: "I feel the same way. I'm overstimulated and want nothing more than the fall down on the ground and scream. I've had enough."
The mom looked at me and said: "He's always like this when we go out. I don't know what to do. His twin sister is nothing like this. She's off playing. He's laying here screaming. I can't be in two places at once. I don't know what to do. Do I punish him? Do I discipline him? Do I spank him? Do I pick him up and cuddle him? I feel so lost." And she put her head down. Complicated questions. Simple answer.
Mom to mom, we all know this feeling. The feeling of being lost. Lost in our decision to parent. Lost in our decision to do public school, private school, homeschool. Sometimes even lost in the decision of what's for dinner. Sometimes, parenthood is just full of feeling lost.
This was a feeling I knew well. Honey Bunny was one for full fledge tantrums. When she was younger, she couldn't handle crowds or unpleasant company. She and I are what are known as "empaths." We actually pick up other people's emotions and feel them. When in a large group, that usually means there are those there who are not nice, who are unhappy and we are overwhelmed with these emotions and get cranky. At over 40, I've learned to deal with them. At 16, Honey Bunny is learning. But at 2, (the age of the little guy above), she couldn't. She would throw herself on the floor and bang her head. Honey Bunny would scream. Honey Bunny would melt, anywhere.
I remembered those moments and looked at the defeated mom. I remembered being there. I remembered spanking Honey Bunny. That didn't work. It made it worse. I remembered punishing her. That didn't work either. I remembered disciplining her. Yep, you guessed it. It didn't work either. When I had Boo Bear, I was 9 years smarter and knew none of those worked. With Honey Bunny, I did what society told me to do. With Boo Bear, I did what experience and intuition told me to do. And know what? Boo Bear felt safe and loved and trusted me.
I turned to the mom and said, "Love him. He's already overwhelmed. He's already scared. Gently pick him up, snuggled him in your arms, and go find a quiet place to be. Your other twin can come along and read a book. When we feel like he does, we just want to be loved, not made to feel worse."
And with that, I walked away to go play with Boo Bear. I had an important role to play: Queen of the Castle or the Big Bad Wolf, depending on the moment.
I noticed the screaming had stopped a few moments later. The rest of the playing went well. Yes, there was kid noise but it was happy noise. When Boo Bear and I left the Fairy Tale display, I noticed the mom snuggling her little boy in a quiet corner of the library. Her daughter playing nicely at her feet with some blocks. The screaming boy not screaming but feeling loved and cherished in his need for less stimulation and the mom? Well, she looked so much more relieved and relaxed.
When we respect our children's needs and treat them as we would another adult in our life (respect wise), they feel listened to, cherished and can give back.
Think about this: if we treated our friends and spouse the way we treat our children (hierarchy oneupmanship)we would lose our friends and spouses.
Our children are a choice in our life. They are a guest for only a handful of life's years. That doesn't mean we won't get frustrated nor does it mean we won't get irritated at the challenges in life that come with children/parenting. What it does mean is they are here because we invited them into our lives by choice by birth or by adoption. Treat them as such.
Dr. Seuss
Come to think of it, isn't most of life like this? Last week, Honey Bunny was participating in a week long rock and roll camp in Charlotte. This meant that Boo Bear, Honey Bunny and I had to get up around 6am and had an hour drive into the city with traffic and then Boo Bear and I had to find things to do on the cheap. Granted, we found MANY things to do on the cheap in Charlotte and had a wonderful time learning and living; but what sticks out most in my mind is a short interaction I had with one mom at Imaginon, the children's library.
It was a hot day, about 90 degrees out. Boo Bear really wanted to go to the children's library because it is so much fun. 8 hours in a library. Okay. It should be quiet and low key, right? NO! It was full of screaming babies, yelling parents and unhappy people. I was in shock and over stimulated. All I wanted to do was go outside into the city for quiet! An oxymoron, I know: city/quiet. Well, compared to inside Imaginon, even a NYC subway would have been quiet!
I loved that Boo Bear was able to work with me and my needs for some peace because I respected her need to play at Imaginon. Due to our relationship being based on mutual respect, there was no arguing or disappointment when I told her I needed a break and was over stimulated. After taking a respite from the crying babies and yelling parents, I felt better. Who wouldn't after some affordable sushi, a vegan/gf chocolate cookie, a walk in the sunshine and a visit to a quiet library?
When we re-entered Imaginon, it was a bit more quiet. Perhaps it was nap time? I don't know. What I do know is Honey Bunny found another little girl to play with and did dress up and had a wonderful time in their Fairy Tales theater set up. Then it happened. The crowds began to come back in.
By this point, I was on overload. Too much visual stimulation. Too much auditory stimulation. Too much human interaction with people who were not respectful of one another. That stresses me out. I truly dislike it.
I heard massive screaming. The scream of a child who does NOT want to be there. I was beginning to get annoyed. How couldn't the parent there not hear what was going on? Why would they ignore it? I went to investigate. There, around the corner, on the floor was a little guy screaming his head off. The mom looked totally flustered.
I walked over, smiled at her and said: "I feel the same way. I'm overstimulated and want nothing more than the fall down on the ground and scream. I've had enough."
The mom looked at me and said: "He's always like this when we go out. I don't know what to do. His twin sister is nothing like this. She's off playing. He's laying here screaming. I can't be in two places at once. I don't know what to do. Do I punish him? Do I discipline him? Do I spank him? Do I pick him up and cuddle him? I feel so lost." And she put her head down. Complicated questions. Simple answer.
Mom to mom, we all know this feeling. The feeling of being lost. Lost in our decision to parent. Lost in our decision to do public school, private school, homeschool. Sometimes even lost in the decision of what's for dinner. Sometimes, parenthood is just full of feeling lost.
This was a feeling I knew well. Honey Bunny was one for full fledge tantrums. When she was younger, she couldn't handle crowds or unpleasant company. She and I are what are known as "empaths." We actually pick up other people's emotions and feel them. When in a large group, that usually means there are those there who are not nice, who are unhappy and we are overwhelmed with these emotions and get cranky. At over 40, I've learned to deal with them. At 16, Honey Bunny is learning. But at 2, (the age of the little guy above), she couldn't. She would throw herself on the floor and bang her head. Honey Bunny would scream. Honey Bunny would melt, anywhere.
I remembered those moments and looked at the defeated mom. I remembered being there. I remembered spanking Honey Bunny. That didn't work. It made it worse. I remembered punishing her. That didn't work either. I remembered disciplining her. Yep, you guessed it. It didn't work either. When I had Boo Bear, I was 9 years smarter and knew none of those worked. With Honey Bunny, I did what society told me to do. With Boo Bear, I did what experience and intuition told me to do. And know what? Boo Bear felt safe and loved and trusted me.
I turned to the mom and said, "Love him. He's already overwhelmed. He's already scared. Gently pick him up, snuggled him in your arms, and go find a quiet place to be. Your other twin can come along and read a book. When we feel like he does, we just want to be loved, not made to feel worse."
And with that, I walked away to go play with Boo Bear. I had an important role to play: Queen of the Castle or the Big Bad Wolf, depending on the moment.
I noticed the screaming had stopped a few moments later. The rest of the playing went well. Yes, there was kid noise but it was happy noise. When Boo Bear and I left the Fairy Tale display, I noticed the mom snuggling her little boy in a quiet corner of the library. Her daughter playing nicely at her feet with some blocks. The screaming boy not screaming but feeling loved and cherished in his need for less stimulation and the mom? Well, she looked so much more relieved and relaxed.
When we respect our children's needs and treat them as we would another adult in our life (respect wise), they feel listened to, cherished and can give back.
Think about this: if we treated our friends and spouse the way we treat our children (hierarchy oneupmanship)we would lose our friends and spouses.
Our children are a choice in our life. They are a guest for only a handful of life's years. That doesn't mean we won't get frustrated nor does it mean we won't get irritated at the challenges in life that come with children/parenting. What it does mean is they are here because we invited them into our lives by choice by birth or by adoption. Treat them as such.
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