Sunday, July 24, 2011

in praise of so-called brats and their parents

Last Thursday my littlest son screeched at me in the grocery store for the very first time.

We were over in the bulk foods section. He'd just found out that he wouldn't be able to have a cookie as soon as he'd hoped, since the little sack of goodies we'd picked out would need to be weighed up at the checkout stand. He's two and a half years old. He took a deep breath, turned a funny shade of purple, opened his mouth and...

^_~

(It was possibly the loudest, most piercing scream I've ever heard in a grocery store.)

I was a bit taken aback, of course. And the angry stares of passers-by didn't help matters. Ouch. Just trying to do something nice for my kid and suddenly I'm getting looked at like I'm a miscreant.

But you know what else?

I was also very happy.

Why?

Because my baby isn't afraid of me. He's not in the slightest bit hesitant to tell everybody what he wants or how he feels.

To him, this was a seriously dire situation. (No cookies when I want them?! Even though I am very tired and it feels like it should be lunchtime and we have been out of the house for much longer than usual?! I need my mommy to hug me, STAT!) So I pulled the cart over out of the way and I picked him up and snuggled and rocked him... and that was all he really needed.

I hope he keeps that spark. I hope he always knows that, no matter what, his feelings are legitimate. I hope he always has someone who he knows will listen to him without judgment and try to help him feel better. I hope he always insists on being heard, never shushed.

I mean... yeah, of course I hope he also learns to reel in the intensity a tad and watch out for other people's needs, too. And I'll do my best in the future to avoid recreating the precursors that led to that awful scream (too many errands on a day when he hadn't slept well, buying treats that require weighing when I already knew he's not too keen on delayed gratification).

But, still, I'm glad that he's comfortable enough to be spunky. I'm happy he insists on help when he needs it. And I'm relieved that he has faith in me to provide that comfort and help.

It's not about the cookie. It's never about the cookie.

It's about "Mommy, Daddy... I hurt. Do you love me? Are you there for me?"

Yes. I do. I am.

Every day.

<3


---


I'm aware, btw, that screaming in the store is hardly a reliable indicator that a child feels comfortable and well taken care of. 

In my experience, some better (but not perfect) indicators of a good home environment and strong, healthy attachment would be: 1) the child's tantrum/complaint is focused on a specific, immediate stressor or desired outcome, 2) the caretaker responds immediately and with compassion, and 3) the child is easily consoled by a caretaker's expression of empathy. 

Children who have been through a lot of crap, on the other hand, tend to be in the habit of either shutting down and rarely protesting much of anything no matter how stressed (this is the outcome that authoritarian parenting is meant to bring about) ...or else they are bubbling over with noise and nervous energy, expressing discontent in a frenetic, unfocused, and generally inconsolable way. In the latter case, parental response in the moment can be shitty or stellar and--insofar as the immediate outcome is concerned--it doesn't make a bit of difference, because the child's wounds are not confined to the present moment and no amount of empathy over the cookie is going to make up for the real, underlying issue instantaneously.

Also--yes, I appear to be tooting my own horn a bit here. I'm admittedly proud of how hard I have worked at becoming a better parent. The audacity, right? ^_^

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