Emotional growth and toddlers

I am fairly certain that Helen, age 2, is more mature than I am. In a number of ways, actually.

First, I read this interesting article today about parenting. The author, an early childhood education specialist, suggests doing away with "time outs," claiming they are the fad of the current generation of parents but little better than spanking in most ways. She talks instead about the importance of helping a child to learn to "center." By this she means that a child (and often an adult) need a chance to choose their own acceptable method to release emotions and regain equilibrium before then leading them to find their own solutions to problems. The author also claims that most (all?) problems with children's behavior can be traced to having an unmet need that they don't know how to address, so that our primary parenting goal is not punishment, or even discipline, but teaching - teaching children how to recognize their own needs and to find acceptable ways to get those needs met.

Like most books on child-raising, I don't think she has all the answers for every kid. But I think she has a lot of wisdom. Perhaps it just rings true to me because I think it is a concept that my own mom would have agreed with. From the first days of my parenting, I have heard mom's voice in my head, gently suggesting to me that a misbehaving child is really just a child with an unmet need, and since I am the adult, it is not my job to get angry or frustrated; it is merely my job to find and meet that need. (Cranky kids? Feed them. Fighting kids? Help them take a nap. All well and good, though it does seem to get exponentially more complicated as the children get older.)

Well, in any case, this article struck me today because of what I have been observing in Helen. First, she has always been a pro at meeting her own needs. We sometimes call this trait in a toddler "being independent." She doesn't cry or whine when she is hungry - she just pries open the fridge, pulls over a chair, and climbs up to the shelf with the watermelon. She doesn't sit placidly wondering when she might get to go swimming - she gets her swimming suit out of her dresser, pulls it on (often over her clothing), then stands expectantly by the door, telling everyone who comes within range, "I go swim in pool." When that doesn't lead to the desired result, she changes the story to, "I swim in the tub?"

But today, I think I witnessed the most stunning thing I have ever seen a young child, let alone a toddler, do. We had driven over to the pool to drop John off for swim team practice and pick up Maggie and James after theirs. Thus, she saw the pool, saw the kids in suits, saw the showers, but didn't get to swim. Even though I had explained to her before we went that life would work out this way for her today, I felt my heart breaking as I buckled her back into her car seat. I could watch the reality of the situation dawning on her in real time, rippling across her face. She was not going to get in the pool (a true obsession of hers). She broke into a full cry - quite unusual for her. Not a whining cry, as in "Let me do it! I will make you let me do it." Rather, it was the lusty, soulful cry of a broken heart. Her face crumpled, sobs welled up from the depths of her little body, and tears began to flow.

Just as I was beginning to wonder if I could ever make the world right again, I watched the most amazing thing happen. Helen took in a deep shuddering breath, let it out slowly, and smoothed out her face into sad resignation. The crying began as quickly as it had started. She seemed to have simply accepted that this small part of the universe would never be arranged to her desires, and there was no point in making a scene. She was clearly still sad, but she simply decided to move on. I watched her do this right in front of my eyes - something that many adults have not yet learned. Wow.

In case you were wondering, I would have bought the whole pool for her at that moment, if I could have.

Postscript
An additional observation related to the independent streak in Helen. We have been a bit overrun by ants in the house this spring. She has taken it upon herself to hunt them. When she spies one, she shouts delightedly, "Mom (Dad)! Look! A bug!" If we don't respond quickly enough, she prompts us with the appropriate action. "Get a tissue!" If even that does not earn the quick response that she wants, then she marches off to get a tissue herself. Her bug-squishing body count currently leads the family.

Kids: status update

It has been a busy spring, getting ready for our move in June. I haven't had my camera out and I haven't posted to the blog. The kids, of course, haven't stopped growing just because I have been too busy to record it. I have a nursing toddler on my lap right now so a brief chance to update this blog as to what the kids have been up to.

Helen, age 2.25 years:

I love the way her speech is developing. She can now say anything she wants, but sometimes the grammar makes us laugh. In the same way as Yoda, she has developed her own very self-consistent, but non-standard, grammar.

"My do it!" is a standard around here. We have heard the word "I" only once or twice; she definitely thinks of herself as "my." This is usually followed by her dressing herself or putting her own shoes on. She actually doesn't do too badly at these tasks. Sometimes the clothes are backwards or the shoes are on the wrong feet, but she knows how to find the right assortment of things and get them on to head outside (her favorite thing to do).

"Mama, 'ide you!" or "Mama, 'ide me!" (I actually haven't figured out yet the distinction between these requests to nurse, but there seems to be a clear one in her mind.)

John, age 5.8 years:

He learned to read! He has been quietly accumulating his "popcorn" words this year in kindergarten. (These are words that "pop up everywhere" so the kids are taught to read them as sight words rather than sound them out.) He has learned his entire kindergarten list now, about 30 words, but he hasn't wanted to try books - he still wants to be read to instead. So it was a fun milestone yesterday when he sat down with Jeremy and read all the way through Dr. Seuss's Go Dog Go.

Margaret, age 8.75 years:

She has decided that she will now be known as "Meg." She doesn't remember this much more often than we do, but she grins from ear to ear when I remember to call her Meg, and then for a few moments refuses to answer to Margaret or Maggie.

She reads all the time, drawing the ire of John, who wants her for a playmate. But, she also can be sweet and generous with her love of reading - it is common for her to ask to read John his bedtime story, and she will read for much longer (and later) than Jeremy or I can often manage or would be willing to do, so John loves this.

She is 8 going on 28, and gets annoyed when she doesn't get all the same privileges of age that James might enjoy. She wants to stay home alone and  babysit Helen on her own and all such things. (We still say no.)

James, age 11.9 years:

He is truly a middle-schooler now. He has grown remarkably this year, both physically (shoe size 10 and still climbing!) and otherwise. He has learned to manage his own school work and schedule this year (with a few blips from time to time). He is very helpful at home - often stepping up to volunteer his assistance with things like watching Helen, cooking dinner, unloading the dishwasher.

He has developed his own interests and entertainments. When our friends with older teen boys visited in March, he caught a "Dr. Who" bug from them and now watches it regularly (the modern version; not the old ones). He loves camping and the outdoors and is excited about the idea of maybe going on a week's campout in Alberta, Canada (summer 2014 ) with the Cadets (a Boy Scout-like church organization).