Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not working my 8-4, M-F, dress up and make up, income producing job; of running on a tight timeline and alarms and schedules and rushing and driving to work with worry in my heart. Nine weeks of yoga pants and fuzzy socks and no makeup and no alarms and no planned routines.
Nine weeks of processing what it means, what new schedules and routines should (or shouldn't) be, what my expectations are, (and which ones are ridiculous and need to be let go of), of budgeting and counting pennies and planning ahead and negotiating kinks and figuring out what all of this means...to me.
Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not being rushed off to daycare and being dropped into the midst of bright, noisy, chaos, of bringing lunch and snack and extra clothes and stuffy bear for naptime.
Nine weeks of not missing momma all day, of not fighting over toys, rules, routines; of not being forced to share, no waiting and taking turns; of not being scolded, overlooked, unheard, excluded, and getting negative attention, for just doing what I do; of not having to cry, or hold back feelings, of not feeling safe.
Nine weeks of processing what it means now to be home, what new schedules and routines are in place (or not), what the expectations are (or aren't), of doing things one on one with momma or my sister, of making choices that I want to make and experiencing things fresh and new right in the middle of the day! Like, the library, the movies, story time at the big book store, going to visit friends of momma's, hiking the rail trail and collecting pinecones.
Nine weeks of learning how to ask for what I want, and to ask for what I need like momma is teaching me, and of how to get positive attention, and of hugging and kissing and sitting and staying in and going out and playgrounds and hiking and settling in to the natural ebb and flow of rhythms that work...for me.
Things are falling into place. The universe, or God, is leveling it all out, taking care of us, providing income and time and giving us opportunities to learn from. We've made friends, with each other, as well as with others, and learned how to be bored with each other and how to enjoy each other. A lot of the learning has been on my end, truthfully. I've had to learn a lot about what matters, and what doesn't, and it isn't an easy thing for me. I'm a little older and I've been down this parenting road before but instead of making it easier, it means I kind of have some pre concieved expectations of how this should go. I've been wrong about almost everything.
Things are falling into place. I'm eating good food and checking them off on my food chart so I have enough vegetables and protein. I'm having fun playing superhero's with momma; not as much fun as when my papa plays, but still fun! I'm bored and restless sometimes but momma makes me play with my toys or run around outside and I forget that I'm bored. I think this is how it is supposed to be. I mean, I don't know, isn't this just what everyone else does too?
The one thing I was right about? Quitting my job to stay home with my 4 year old son.
Lately I've heard from more and more parents, and particularly parents of little boys, with stories similar to ours. Daycare providers with rigid expectations hidden behind creative descriptions of "developmentally appropriate routines"; teachers with poor communication skills taking to texting about behavior issues, calling parents out on a 2 year old that hits, or a 3 year old that doesn't want to sit still during circle time. Little boys being called "violent" or "anti-social"; parents being asked to consider psychiatry evals and medication - we are talking about kids as young as 2! As far as my knowledge reaches (a pre-college career of babysitting since age 11, a college education and 4 children, a career in infant development/parenting, and family advocacy) age 2 is still a BABY. Maybe some of those 'babies' are precocious and talking and and seeming to be mini-adults, but they are, by and large, babies. A baby does not have a behavior disorder. Let me be clear. Neither does the average 3 or 4 year old. I am appalled at the stories I've heard. Validated, sure, but appalled.
Griffin has some undesirable behaviors that we are working on, and isn't that what we are supposed to be doing? As parents, but also as teachers in a daycare or preschool, it's about teaching, instructing, leading by example, reinforcing - it's all a process. And because behavior is about feeling and emotion, about situation and circumstance, and a dozen other variables, you can't expect to teach them once and never have to review it again... it is not the same as learning the alphabet or the value of the numbers 1-10. Its about developing the capacity for patience and control: things that aren't in place with toddlers and preschoolers and so "behavior issues" are not issues at all - they are just behaviors.
Developmentally, skill and behavior are always undergoing change, maturation, development. Even adults learn new behaviors and social skills thru workplace training, interpersonal development, and experience. What? Oh, you mean "experience"? Yeah, thats a THING. Skills are developed, manners learned, appropriate interactions taught - through experience. Not thru inherent assimilation. So you can't say that a 3 year old, with only 3 years worth of life skills (and only about 1.5 years of that having any concrete value) is in need of psychiatric evaluation, or professional intervention, until you have put in the actual time and effort of working through those behaviors. Seriously. What has our entire educational system come to that early education workers are feeling like they need to advocate for psychiatric evaluations on BABIES??
Be patient. Be kind. Be accepting. Make no assumptions. Take things as they are - when dealing with tiny children - and be accommodating of the genuine honesty and integrity of small humans... and don't be physically abusive to them...no matter how frustrating and infuriating and discombobulating they might be... they are just learning things, all fresh and new, and practicing them moment by moment. Just love them...ridiculously!
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