During last July’s 5.8 earthquake, 3-year-old Bronwyn told her 1-year-old sister, “We’re going for a wiggle.” READ MORE
|
||||
|
Patience required, batteries not provided. Hurry, I hear myself saying. Come on. I stand. I wait. I cross my arms and tap my foot. I am a caricature of an impatient parent confronting a slow-poke child. Steam spirals out of my ears. Disappointment droops my face. If my child notices, this only makes him more likely to be anxious and slow down even more. In turn, my annoyance increases. We’re trapped in a bad cartoon. Other times, he’s destined to break land-speed records. He’s a blur of activity on the playground or when transported into swashbuckling pirate play. He careens around the living room couch as if powered by a jet pack. He catapults onto his tire swing and launches himself toward the sky. But when I want him to get dressed, brush his teeth, set the table, buckle his car seat or finish his meal, it is as if someone has pressed a slo-mo button. The speedy child is replaced by a sluggish, dawdling youngster. That is, that is how he appears to me. But there is a difference between a skilled task, say, putting on shoes and socks, and play, so say child-development experts. Remembering this difference has helped me enormously. But awareness is not enough. We also need to make allowances that take into account the child’s own stage of development. This will help us cope and, more importantly, create an opportunity for the child to succeed. Case in point: Our household is preparing for the onset of kindergarten. This requires some discipline. The goal is for our son to arrive at school at 8 a.m., washed, dressed, fed, lunch in hand, ready to learn. How will we do this? I imagine that there will be those mornings when I tap my foot and beseech him to hurry up, come on, get going. But I hope for few of those. We have a plan. It’s rooted in reality – what our son can do as opposed to what we wish he could do. We will rise early and give our son the time he needs to prepare himself. Not the time we, his parents, need – but the time a little boy of 5 years needs. I hope not to hover. I plan to keep my arms uncrossed. Instead, I’ll pour myself another cup of coffee and read the paper. I’ll eat breakfast. My son will take the time he needs. Acknowledging that his way takes longer than mine can be frustrating, but it’s how he’ll learn hard-earned and desirable autonomy – so I try to keep my eyes on the prize. This lesson is especially important during these early years as we transition from doing everything for our children to doing less. Patience is a vital part of teaching. As parents we are our children’s teachers. We need to remember what our children know and don’t know, what they can and can’t do, reminding ourselves that our responsibilities include introducing them to a world that we’ve known for 20, 30, 40 years longer than they have. Our knowledge and experience makes us impatient at times. Why don’t they know what we know? Why do we have to explain it over and over? Taking the time to anticipate and address these concerns not only helps our children understand how the world works in big and little ways, but also suggests that their parents are there to answer questions and to guide them. We become trusted and ready resources. This, in turn, builds a kind of relationship that will prove invaluable later on as they age. We want our children, both young and old, to trust us with their questions – and we need to begin now to show that they can. Lisa Alvarez is a regular contributor. |
||||