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This writing is taken as inspiration from Oliver Jeffers' Book "What We'll Build".
I am no Oliver Jeffers, but we are big fans. Whenever I read his book, I think of the home I want to create. While this is "if I were to build" - the truth is, this is what I want now. If I were to build a house, it would have a tin roof. When it rains, the TV is turned off; we make hot chocolate and light a candle, and the fireplace radiates warmth - as do our hearts. We would snuggle on the couch, listening to the rain. If I were to build a house, there would be a path to the front door; flowers would line it in pink, white, and yellow. Weeds intertwine with the flowers, reminding us that beauty and messiness coexist. We would remove the weeds together, proving we are committed to growth. We would remove what holds us back from growth. If I were to build a house, it would be surrounded by trees, fairy gardens, and pinecones. It would have a little pond with fish. We would look for mini-mermaids that swim with the fish. On warm days, I would sprinkle glitter and leave love notes from the fairies. Magic always exists. If I were to build a house, every piece of furniture would be second-hand because everyone deserves a second chance. Baby photos would line with walls. Pictures of us smiling, laughing, maybe even crying - show all that has happened, giving us hope for what will come. The past would be stored in our hearts and minds like treasure. We would all carry hurt, but not as a burden, as our strength. There would be space to sit and showcase our strengths to each other, allowing us to celebrate all that has been accomplished. If I were to build a house, we would have cozy corners and loud corners because we all need moments of peace and when we need to dance. Lougeroom sleepovers would be regular, with movie nights and slow weekend mornings, where the only time we rush would be to get a coffee in our hands. If I were to build a house, the TV would be in its own room. Our focus would be on each other when it's TV time; it's a time to bond, not disconnect. The main noises would be chatter, laughter and music. If I were to build a house, the doors would always be open. We'd call out to each other, declaring our love or that food was ready, telling each other that this was the happiest we'd ever been. Loud voices would only come from happy mouths. In our house, we would fight to protect our family's peace. There would be calm amongst the chaos. Anger would be dealt with under a calm blanket. Insults would be foreign. If I were to build a house, we would be anxious to get home. It would be our soft landing at the end of a long day. Every time we leave the house, we would feel confident because of the words spoken over us. No one would ever doubt their worth; they would be reminded daily. In our house, tissues are available in every room because tears are not only allowed but also encouraged. We would remember that in our house; Triggers are real, and we can't predict them. In our house We aren't perfect We don't expect perfect We expect love Respect You can spill the milk You can write on the walls If you break something, we fix it Together. In our house, we give second, third, and fourth chances We say sorry when we hurt someone Apologies are followed by action. In our house, all are welcome. I can't always promise the fridge will be full (because I'm still forgetful), but our hearts will be. In our house, we are learning to love, and we are loved.
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I'm not too fond of sharing. I know I'm meant to, but I'm no good at it. I wait until Alexis is in bed before I bring the block of chocolate out of the pantry; you, on the other hand, don’t even know what chocolate is - I’m that selfish! Also, if someone asked to use my car (especially an acquaintance), I would 100% say "no." I also wouldn't share my phone or my favorite pieces of jewelry. It even boils down to the simplicity of a pen; if someone asked to use a pen I was using, I would communicate (politely, of course) that they could have it once I had finished.
When I'm unwilling to share, why would I expect that of you, a child? Already people are teaching you, and you are learning that sharing is a must in life. When I was working daily with children, there were constant conversations with children encouraging them to wait their turn for a toy. I would encourage them to find something else to play with or convince a child to give up their toy because I decided the child had been playing with it for long enough. You could say that me sharing my car is very different from you sharing a toy based on the value, use, and importance of a car, but I would argue if that's correct. While in my adult mind, we might see it that way, if we consider a child's mind, the toy they're playing with is of the same importance as my car. You already have items you don’t want to share; Lightning McQueen, River rabbit, your dummy. How can I expect you, a 2-year-old, to grasp the idea of sharing when I, a 34-year-old, cannot. Imagine with me; you are playing with a toy, your train set, and you have a friend, let’s call her Zoey. You, Solomon, are busy in play; you enjoy moving the train along the track you have created and keep adjusting it to suit your play needs. You have been at it for a while, with no signs of slowing down. Zoey, who has been watching you play, wants a turn. Zoey walks over to you and takes the train; you, naturally, start crying. As your Mumma, I’m about to teach you and Zoey some fundamental life lessons If I let Zoey have a go and say to you, "we need to share," you will learn that sharing doesn't feel good and that sharing means you don’t get to continue in the game and world you were so captivated in. You will learn to stay away from Zoey because Zoey wants to play with your toys. And within this moment, you will decide you don’t like sharing because sharing means giving up something you like as soon as someone else asks for it. Maybe my focus as an adult shouldn't be sharing. When I talk to you or others about sharing, what I’m trying to teach is empathy, compassion, and generosity. While sharing demands you to hand over your toy, compassion would encourage Zoey to find a similar toy so you and her could play together. Generosity would encourage you, Solomon, to take turns with the train with Zoey. Empathy would teach you that Zoey wants that toy and help you understand (without manipulating your choice) that Zoey is in awe of how you are playing. Empathy would also teach you how it would feel if the situation reversed and you demanded someone’s toy. Taking the time to talk with you about how your friends are feeling can turn moments of resentment into moments of joy. Offering you the choice to say "no" to giving up your toy and respecting that boundary is setting you up for future success – it gives you the power to know your voice should be respected and heard, and it teaches you to respect and hear the voices of those around you. Instead of handing the toy over to the other child, I, as your mum; should be supporting you and your peers in finding the tools to seek out alternative solutions and answers. I am in such a privileged position to scaffold your learning regarding navigating conflict, which isn't an easy skill. You and every child has the right to feel safe, secure, and supported and learn to interact in relation to others with care, empathy, and respect (EYLF LO1 - Children have a strong sense of identity https://www.acecqa.gov.au/sites/default/files/2018-02/belonging_being_and_becoming_the_early_years_learning_framework_for_australia.pdf ). Zoey could find a similar alternative toy or find something else to do in this situation. At the same time, you continue and eventually finish your play (even if this takes a long time). Patience is a life skill and you or your peers learning to wait for a toy is a beautiful way to start encouraging this skill while learning how to treat others. So often, I try to keep you happy, but feelings of frustration, sadness, and anger are all normal, and all children need to feel these to learn how to work through them. In these moments, I will always sit with you and help them recognize and acknowledge your emotions. So, maybe sharing isn't caring; perhaps it's more caring to teach you the lifelong skills of compassion, empathy, respect, care, patience, and conflict resolution. I don't believe children are naughty; I never have. And I find it deeply interesting to ask questions like, "Is your baby a good baby?"
What does that mean? Is your baby good? Does it mean it sleeps through the night? Or doesn't cry? Does it mean that the baby doesn't need to be held all the time? On the flip side – why do we consider a baby who loves a cuddle a bad baby? Just as every adult is vastly different and has their own emotional needs, so do children, and this starts at birth, even before birth. I have worked with various ages throughout my life, from very young to older and teenagers. I remember working closely with teenagers, and people would often say, "they are just seeking attention." I would hear it with educators too, "that child is just crying because they want attention. That child is throwing toys because they get attention. If we ignore them, they'll stop". I've always responded to this remark with, "well, give them the positive attention they need." By all means, the child may stop the behavior they are displaying if no one tends to them, but why did they stop? What is it they missed through us not responding to them? Maybe the question we need to ask is why did the child begin that behavior? You and Alexis are both relatively placid; both happy to play independently, explore your space, and be distracted by the toys and resources offered to you. Solomon, when you cry, I never tell Alexis, "just ignore him; he's attention-seeking" I go over and see what is wrong. When Alexis cries for help, I know that shit just got real, and she needs help and support. When you cry, you are both 100% seeking attention. But is attention-seeking a bad thing? It is possible that attention is not only what you want but, more importantly, what you need and deeply require. When I go and give you attention, I provide you with the connection you need, which is the real underlying message. Your tears are telling me something - "I need help," "I've hurt myself," "my heart is sad," "I need support," "I don't understand why this is happening." If a child behaves unpleasantly – throwing toys, hitting, yelling – I would say what they seek is attention which is begging for a deep connection. Behaviour is never the issue; the emotion causing the behavior need to be our focus. If a child is at home and only gets attention (whether positive or negative) when they've done something undesirable, they come to believe this is how they receive attention. Why should we expect them to behave differently in another situation? I wonder if I need to change my behavior and mindset before expecting children to change theirs. Is it possible to move from reactive parenting to responsive parenting? My job is to develop strong connections to you and your sister (think of the circle of security, an article for another day). Sure, this won't eliminate all issues, but it may give you an element of freedom to explore and do wrong, knowing there is safety and comfort at the end of it. We need to be slower to judge and quicker to love! Imagine if every time a child did something wrong* we didn't respond with "they're naughty" and "they're attention-seeking" but instead responded with "what connection are they seeking at this moment?" "What are their deep emotional needs which need a meeting?" *I don't like saying a child did something wrong. The child isn't doing wrong; they're exploring their place within the world and how it works. I put my hand on your leg while sitting on the couch next to each other - much to my surprise, you picked it up and moved it away.
I asked, "Solomon, can I please put my hand on your leg?" You, although minimal speech, have a solid understanding - you shook your head, a definite no. Like most two-year-olds, you have an excellent knowledge of what you want and don't want. I will admit, though, that I have pushed for this. In the morning, I give you choices; what shoes do you want to wear, what flavour of yoghurt do you want for breakfast, and what toy car do you want to take on our drive? When you communicate through pointing, nodding, or shaking your head, I respond accordingly; because I'm on a journey of teaching you consent. From birth, children can learn about consent and how to set boundaries in their lives. From the moment you were born, I would talk to you about what I was doing when you were involved, "Solomon, I'm going to place you in the pram now, and we're going to go for a walk", "Solomon, I'm going to change your nappy now, so you feel more comfortable". After these comments, I would stop and wait, trying to make eye contact or smile at you so you understood you were safe. I would continue talking to you throughout the process, ensuring you were an active participant, not just a doll. Through these small gestures, I am teaching you your voice, wants and needs matter and should be respected. I have tried to teach Alexis the same thing; that she doesn't have to hug anyone she doesn't want to (even at the risk of offending them), she doesn't have to engage with or talk to strangers, and she doesn't have to stay in any situation where she feels uncomfortable. I knock on the bathroom door if she is getting changed; despite knowing the answer is "yes", I'm trying to teach her that I respect her privacy and her right to say "no". I believe we expect far too much from children and, through doing so, have taken away their voice. We expect them to interact with adults they don't know, hug grownups they aren't comfortable with, be polite to strangers, and embrace us – their adults – even if they don't feel like it. Children, just like adults, have and deserve the right to say "no". We should never assume; we should always ask. When a baby is born, we pass them around from person to person so casually. I don't think this is unhealthy, but I believe it can be harmful because we don't tell them what will happen, who they are about to go to, and that you, their secure attachment, are close. Children are not voiceless, but there is potential that they can be when we don't implement such strategies and include them in their day to day journey. As I teach this consent to you and Alexis, I always want to teach you to seek it from others. Some children might not like being hugged hello or goodbye. In teaching you to ask others, you learn empathy and understanding rather than just expecting. While I teach you to say "no", I also am teaching you to listen to the "no" of your peers and listen to their wishes. We all need to learn better to listen to the verbal and non-verbal cues others communicate to us. One day You and Alexis, actually all children, will need the confidence to say "no" to many situations. For this confidence to flourish, you need to be taught that you can make choices, say "no", and say "yes" from a young age. And, as the person who makes choices for your lives - I need to respect your yes and no, because if I don't, as your trusted adult, one day someone less important may take advantage of your lack of confidence. Of course, when you are at risk of harm, I step in. No matter how much you want to, you are not allowed to run onto the road. Your "yes" may be my "no". However, as I say "no", I talk to you about my no - it's not safe, big cars can't see little people. When I ask to change your nappy, and you shake your head, I explain to you the importance and talk further with you, "okay, you can have five minutes, but then I will need to change your nappy if I don't, your bottom and penis will become sore." In the long run, I aim to speak and treat you, Alexis, and all children with respect, empowering you to know your rights and needs - I desire you to expect this sort of treatment from all people and give it to them in return. You always have the right to say no, and I, and all adults, should be empowering you to do so. |
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