A celebration of growth.

Posts tagged ‘Children’

Laugh with me, not at me.

Kids are always doing and saying something that makes us laugh. Sometimes they do it to share their joy with us, and sometimes it’s unintentional because they are figuring out the way the world works, and putting things together (that we may not have thought belonged together).

Sometimes in the moment, we crack up. I’m guilty of it myself.

But what happens when we do?

Laughing at children sends a message

Our reaction, as unintentional as it can be, still has it’s effect. You might be giggling because “you love how cute they are” but kids are hearing: “you are so incorrect, it’s funny”.

How would it feel if we were in a board meeting of a multinational corporation during the first week of work, and said something that made all of the big wigs laugh in a “wow, you really don’t know anything” and “it’s so ridiculous what you’re saying:” kind of way?

Would we feel confused? Embarrassed? Would it help us, or prevent us from feeling confident?

Kids are just as sensitive to our reactions, as we are to other adult’s reactions. Maybe adults laughed at us when we were children too? What do we remember about how that felt?

Laughing at children’s remarks or actions dismisses their sincerity.

They may say something really awkward like “This squash looks like your head papa!” or they may have a vivid observation “The fan goed roundy and roundy and throwed wind on us!”

Whatever kids may say, usually they mean it with utmost seriousness. They are describing something they see, or understand. When we laugh at their knowledge or use of words, we are laughing at who they are. They receive the message that what they do and say is silly, and doesn’t have real value.

Children are not entertainment

Often we laugh at children when we are in an adult social setting. We relate with other adults by watching their reactions, or just want other adults to enjoy how much being with kids makes us laugh. Is this at the expense of the children?

I frequently notice how when adults laugh after a child does something “funny”, they look at other adults to see their reaction. This is very interesting. Is there some type of social evaluation going on?

Using children as a way to make our guests or family members laugh is belittling to our kids existence. It is disrespectful. Would we put grandma on display to make our friends laugh? or a person with Tourettes? How much do our kids have control over their “funniness?”

Don’t even get me started on all the things we do things to our kids to make ourselves laugh…  

(need I say more?)

Laughing is fun when everyone is in on the joke

When we are laughing and joking about what kids do, do they understand why we are laughing?

If they are staring at us questioningly, and our reaction doesn’t seem to make sense to them, we are creating a disconnect in our relationship with them. This may be great bonding time for adults, but how does this help us bond with our children?

How to respond when something “silly” is said

I love it when kids give me the opportunity to practice a mindful response. I call it mindful, because I try to be intentional (not impulsive) in how I wish to respond.

  • Stick to the facts of the observation without the need to correct. — “Does that remind you of papa’s head because he lost all of his hair?”
  • It’s ok to provide more information, so everyone’s on the same page — “I wonder if it might hurt papa’s feelings to hear that, because he was sad when he lost his hair, and he might not want to be reminded about it”.

(FYI: I’m using this example because I used to say that when I was little. At the grocery store. To my dad! Now that we’re adults, he brings it up regularly and cracks up about it, “remember when you used to point at the melon and make fun of your poor old papa?” Of course, my original observation was innocent of mockery.)

  • Repeat what your child is noticing, and ask them more about it– “That’s true. The fan does blow air on us, what else did you notice about the fan?”
  • If you really did laugh (sometimes it just comes out), explain what you found so funny about it and stay mindful about your child’s feelings. — “I laughed when you said that, because the way you described how the fan works sounded so different to me.”

Find ways to share joy instead

Now let’s talk about laughing with our kids! How different does this feel?

Our kids are laughing with us, and they understand what’s funny. Usually, it is something outside of ourselves, like a funny story, or a funny picture. Sometimes it is sharing joy about something funny that we, the adults, did (self directed humor relays the message that making mistakes is ok)… “d’oh! I dropped my toast again! I have butterfingers today!”

Sharing joy means staying connected with our children, and sharing the same perspective of an experience. Aka: We are in the same boat!

This always feels good to both parties. Now just remember to not share joy at the expense of someone else who isn’t in on it. ;-)

A quick word about babies

In my opinion, I notice that babies get laughed at the most. They drool and babble and are learning coordination.. which is so uninhibited and free in physical actions! Yes, lots of funny material there. But babies are also people. Yes, whole people. They are in tune with our messages and are sensitive to them. Maybe we feel that a little laughter at their expense doesn’t hurt. Is this true? I haven’t found any direct studies yet, so I couldn’t say “officially”. I just know it feels “off” in my heart.

If we are planning on treating our whole growing humans with respect, why not start right away? If it’s disrespectful to laugh at what kids do, or adults do, or elders do– at their expense, why should it be ok to laugh at babies?

Respond to babies in the same respectful way. When they spit, say “I notice you spit. I wonder if you’re done eating that food?”. When they burble, say “I hear you saying something. You are looking at the cup, are you saying “cup?” and point to the cup.

When grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles and strangers are laughing at baby and you have learned to take your baby seriously (because you respect your baby so much), you can narrate to the baby, “Everyone is excited to have you here and watch you grow.” Validate the babies perspective, and stay an active part of it. Emphasize with the experience and make sure everyone is on the same page.

Conclusion

Please take children seriously. Even if they seem funny to you. To them, they may be sharing something thoughtful and genuine. Let them know you love them by treating them with respect and dignity. This will help them become confident and secure adults. And maybe when you’re saying something silly in your later years, they will show you the same respect.

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear what you think :)

The Hands That Wait

Last week I was on the bus and saw this scene while passing a fast food restaurant: inside I saw a woman and a 4/5 year old child. They were cleaning up after their meal, and were throwing away some containers. The boy was throwing away a plastic cup into the garbage can. As he was doing this slowly and awkwardly, reaching for the opening and trying to stuff the cup into it, the woman stood by with her hands very close to his and only seemed to wait a brief moment before she quickly reached over to grab the cup and push it in for him. I noted how close her hands were, her body language, and how fast she had acted.

This takes me back to the time when I was small, and remembering how I noticed the personalities of adults by the behavior of their hands.

Being a tiny and awkwardly coordinated growing person is no piece of cake. I remember how fine tuning the control of my fingers and hands seemed like an almost impossible task. From pouring juice out of a bottle into a cup, to writing my first letters, I might as well have been using my nose.

I remember how frequently adults wanted to help me, and often did so without my permission or even giving me a moment to realize they were about to. Their hands just jumped right in and did the job. Sometimes this left me feeling pretty incompetent. But, the hands that waited were usually attached to the kind of adult that had a calm demeanor and trusted me.

I understand that adults are helping children out of love and care. We tie their shoes, and put on their

coats,

and pour,

and wipe,

and open,

and close,

and move,

and dress,

and pick up,

and put down,

and do so many things to care for children — but at what cost are we doing these things for them?

Here is an important story that I remember hearing (you may know it):

A man was watching a butterfly struggle out of its cocoon. He noticed how awkwardly and slowly the butterfly was pushing itself out. After he watched for a little while, he decided to help. He took a pair of scissors and cut the cocoon open. The butterfly easily came out, but fell to the ground instead of opening its wings to fly. What he didn’t know was that while the butterfly struggles to push itself out, it releases a special fluid onto the wings, without which it can’t open its wings to fly. In other words, the struggle itself created the success.

I really loved this story when I first heard it because it gave me a fresh perspective on children’s struggle. I admit I do like to make life easier for children. I want to do things for them – give them my hand— it’s part of my yearning to nurture and it feels instinctual. I realize though, that cutting the cocoon open for them does not help them fly, but in fact, often inhibits it. So, my instinctual reaction slowly turned into a patient, intentional response.

I look at my hands and notice now, how often they want to jump in to help. I urge them to wait, and instead move them away while watching how a child is gaining skills on their own. I notice sometimes the children who are used to receiving lots of quick adult help often just hand over the job to me or another adult nearby, expecting what they are already used to.

I admit that struggle is difficult to watch if we’re not used to it. I tell myself to breathe and wait for the process, the coat to get zipped, or for the glass which is so precariously sitting on the edge of the table to get moved, or the tiny foot to reach the safety of the floor while the toddler is struggling to come down from the couch. I become aware of how my own emotions and instincts are filling my mind with fearful images – the child falling and crying, the cup breaking, the spill, the mess, the anxiety – but I know these are only workings of my imagination and I don’t let them guide me. I let them go and instead observe intensely. I notice how each time the same struggle happens over and over, some tiny new skill is emerging. Maybe the first two times the cup fell, but this time it’s placed a little further from the edge. Maybe there is a new shift in the child’s body when she takes a step off the couch.

Truthfully speaking, the horrible things my mind flashes during the process don’t usually happen, and if they do, they aren’t nearly as horrible as I imagined them to be.

This experience has taught my mind and hands to relax and even though I make myself available to help, I don’t jump the gun quite as fast as I used to. It’s hard to make my hands wait, but I know that the real lesson is in the child’s hands – not my own.

There are still many creative ways to provide support and guidance to children while strengthening their skill abilities, here are a few:

Before giving any directions or help, notice the process of ‘figuring it out’. Let the child’s curiosity guide the process first and notice their innovative ways of working through a problem.
Provide a little tip (note: this is a fine balance. Make sure you are empowering instead of commanding): I notice you want to step down the stairs. It might be helpful to hold the railing. It’s very sturdy.
Slow down and become a close observer. This will give you the opportunity to notice progress or patterns, and often simply being aware and present is enough support.
Model the way something is done: “When I zip, I like to hold the zipper together like this, and then… I pull up…”
Describe the process as it is happening: I see the water is pouring out of the pitcher very fast, and your cup is getting full. (Notice how this is left open ended…)
Acknowledge the child’s struggle as a part of the process to the child: If you are ok and calm, there is no need to fear the struggle next time. “It’s true. Sometimes putting on shoes can be frustrating.” or, “The water spilled right in your lap when you were pouring, does it feel very cold and wet? “
Be available and know when help is truly needed. If your child is exhausted and on the verge of a meltdown, chances are the process will not be as useful. It’s ok to offer help when the time is right. Knowing that balance is really important.
Ask first, if you really want to help: Asking permission before diving into a child’s space is incredibly empowering for the child. This is one of the best ways to model respect.

Finally, let go of your own idea of success and instead celebrate the process. As I wait, I like to ask myself, “In reality, what’s the worst that could happen?”, and “What can be gained from the experience?”

Note: These particular examples are about young children. Additionally, how can we connect them to other ages or areas of life?

I’d love your feedback!

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