Defend This Wall! . . . Unless They Climb it First!

I usually save my blog posting for the last thing because I find it a therapeutic way to end the day.  I'm changing it up tonight.  I sat down to write an article on a fruit growers' meeting I attended last week at The Big Apple Farm when I heard the pattering of little feet.  Since I had tucked my kids in 30 minutes earlier, I was surprised.

"Who's that?" I called, fully expecting my son's voice to respond.

"It's me," came the fairy-voice of my 2-year old daughter.  This is not good.  She still sleeps in a crib.  Today she has decided that those barred obstructions are for climbing over, not for staying within (or without, as the case may be). 

I am not suggesting she has not had some good reasons for jumping her bonds.  This afternoon, as I was sitting down with my insurance agent to review my policy and next steps, I heard a thump.  I go in, and she's trying to get onto the toilet.  Okay.  I get it.  But you can't climb in and out of your crib.  You're going to get hurt.

Do you know what she says to me tonight when I rebuke her?  "Don't worry, Mommy.  I won't fall off riding my bike without my helmet."

WHAT???!!!

Oh yeah.  The railing of the crib is now a bicycle.  Lovely.

It is at moments like these that I find myself vacillating between two divergent opinions.  The first is SAFETY.  CONTROL.  OBEDIENCE.  The second is GROWTH.  EXPLORATION.  INDEPENDENCE.

The truth is that all of these elements are in play.  And there is a balance that must be struck between setting and maintaining those boundaries and stepping back to let growth occur.  The pendulum obviously tips much closer to safety on this issue.  (Can you picture the face of my pediatrician if I brought her in with a head injury saying, "But Dr. Fazio, you must give children room to grow, you know..."  Not happening!)

But what about some less clear-cut questions.  When is your son old enough to pour his own cereal and milk?  He managed the cereal this morning . . . the first time.  The second time I ended up with an extra bowl of cereal he didn't eat and the equivalent of another in teeny pieces on the kitchen floor.  Today I decided to chalk it up to growth.  Tomorrow?  Who knows.

And how about those seemingly random big boy activities that your big boy decides he doesn't want to do anymore?  Like dressing himself.  (Someone please explain to me how the 2-year old picks out her own clothes and puts them on, often before breakfast, and the 4-year old acts like he's never heard of clothing in his entire life????)  Do you fight about it?  Do it for him?  Ignore it?  (Hard to do when it's 45 degrees and you have to go to the store . . . ) 

Most often I fight with him: "Why can't you just get dressed?!?)  Tonight, I did just the opposite.  He's been expressing some anger and fear and anxiety (gee, I wonder why?!), so I figured, "Maybe the kid needs to be a kid tonight."

"What's the matter, Sweetie . . . you feel like being a baby tonight?  That's okay.  We all feel like that sometimes."  (At that moment I was remembering the last time I was sick, just wishing my mom would come and give me flat soda and stale crackers . . . )

"Sometimes it's hard," he said to me.  Poor thing.  

Then I went over the top.  "When you were a baby, I used to dress you like this," I said, snuggling him close to me, and pulling his arm into his sleeve saying, "Mano derecha."  Then the other, "Mano izquierda."  And he started gurgling like a baby.

And after the three of us read the Bible and prayed and sang "Frère Jacques," I tucked him in and he said, "Rub my back like this, Mommy."  And he showed me the direction to rub.  "Slowly."

I was filled with love . . . and the realization that sometimes we all need just a little time to be infants surrounded by nothing but unconditional love.

I also saw that, in the midst of all the times I defend boundaries when I should encourage exploration, I was doing something right.  My little boy was learning to identify what feelings he was having . . . and how to express them . . . and how to ask for something that would meet his needs expecting to find comfort rather than derision or shame.

I think all three of us did a little growing this evening.