Times of Connection

“It is full unhurried attention. Under the right circumstances it is a peaceful, rewarding time for both parties because, ideally, it’s a time of no ambivalence, one for open listening, taking in the other person, trying to fully understand the other’s point of view.” - Magda Gerber

Finding times for connection with your child - what does it look like? How do you know the difference between when to engage and play or when to sit back, observe and be present.

 What areas of connection fill me up and fill up my child? Maybe these don’t always align - how can we maneuver that and still be authentic to ourselves and to our relationship?

I used to pride myself on saying “I never play with my children, that isn’t my job.” That sounds kind of mean and judgmental, but the sentiment I was trying to convey was that I worked hard to encourage my children to play independently. Of course, I found areas where I would “play” but I tried to sit back and allow them to lead. I would only move forward by following their ideas. Then my husband would come in, sit down, and start building a giant castle with blocks or vrooming cars all over the living room. I realized both approaches have a place in a child’s world, both can exist and both are equally important.

For my husband, these were areas of connection and joy. He was showing his children how he loved them and how he wanted to share in their imaginative play. Our children lit up at this – so enthralled in his enthusiasm and attention. Meanwhile, I was sitting back thinking I’ll have to maintain this entertainment if you set this standard; however, that wasn’t necessarily true. In truth, I learned both types of connection can exist.

Imaginative play was never really my area of connection. Sure, I ate some pretend mud pie and had had my fair share of sword fights; however, my husband is very skilled at imaginative play and always left me feeling like the boring parent. To my surprise though, when I read about the impact that finding times of connection during caretaking activities can have on both the caretaker and child (from Magda Gerber), I am pleasantly relieved. Overall, I find the tasks I need to complete still get done, and I also find time to connect during them. In other words, slowing myself down and filling my child’s cup up as well.

Now, don’t read that last sentence and think every caretaking task is a connection point for both my child and me - very false. I still lose my mind when my son relentlessly behaves as if he has never put on his shoes in his entire life. That is not my area of connection. In fact, that is my area of utter downfall but alas each day is a new day.

I do find that one of my favorite times for connection was bath time and the moments right after - this is my area. First, I get one on one time with both children. I take a moment to ask about their day. I can’t walk away or be easily distracted because I am washing hair and scrubbing dirty feet. I have always said at the beginning of baths, “let’s wash the day away” and now my children hop into the shower and say that very saying to me. Queuing our moment of togetherness.

Afterward, I take a moment to wrap them in their towel, gaze at their beautiful faces, and tell them how much I love them. We go pick out our pjs and brush hair; all of it just has become kind of part of the routine now. This rhythm opens up time for them to chat, and I have learned with each of them what that looks like.

My daughter - I have to wait for her to initiate. The conversation has to be all her idea and, in her timing, which means, I need to be fully available for it to happen. My son, well he never stops talking and is so happy to have a moment where I pay full attention to all he has to say.

Sure, there are definitely meltdowns over pajamas that aren’t clean, but most of the time it’s just a moment for us to be together. I often remind myself at this time, that someday soon, I won’t be pulling Hot Wheel pajamas out of the drawer anymore. I won’t be asked to wrap them up in a towel. I won’t get sprayed with water every time they hold the shower head and forget where they are pointing it.

Do my children seek connection other times during the day? Of course. Another time, that is sacred in our home is reading after dinner. We all squish together on one lumpy couch cushion and read together.

Are there times when I can’t connect? Yes. Or times when my attempt to connect just doesn’t go as planned? Absolutely

Other times, I simply have other things to do and can’t sit down to read a book as quickly as they might like. In these situations, I try to just be honest and straightforward.

“I hear you want to read a book right now, but I have to finish cleaning up dinner. I’ll be able to read one book when I’m done.”

Does it always fill them up? Not necessarily. I’ve noticed that when I sit to read, sometimes it isn’t actually what my daughter wants in that moment. I try to offer it anyway, and if I can, I try to find another way to connect during our bedtime routine. It doesn’t always happen - and that’s okay. All we can do is make our best effort with what the day brings and our capacity as parents.

Finding moments of connection also happen naturally throughout the day - if we are paying attention. While carving out time with your children is important and impactful, connection also happens in the moments that they seek us. As parents, we need to be present to see the opportunity.

Connection is the foundation of any relationship - how we connect with another, how safe we feel to be our authentic selves, and how comfortable we are in sharing our thoughts and feelings. As parents we want to be the first place our children seek. We want to build that relationship now. We want our foundation to say:

Your ideas, your questions, your dreams, your mistakes – are safe here.

If we build that now, while they are tiny, we can only hope they will continue to trust us as they grow.  

What do areas of connection look like for you? Maybe you’ve never thought about them before. We all have ways that tell us someone delights in us - that we are seen and loved and sought after.

Our children need these times to feel seen. They need their cups filled so they can go off and do the important work of creating play ideas, interacting with peers, being creative, and problem solving. Then, they return to us - when they are weary and need to find comfort and warmth.

It is a rhythm. One that changes with seasons, changes as children grow where we get to know them all over again and changes as us parents grow as well. We learn, adapt and try again to find our way of connecting. In hopes that when our children are grown, they still want to find moments of connection with us.

Learning to Fall

If you know me, you know that I am quite good at taking what should be a normal conversation and making it awkward. Often to my own detriment and mostly without my awareness until after the fact. It’s not a skill I am proud of but I do think it has taught me a lot about how I view others as well as the art of socializing. More pointedly, I am definitely a believer in giving the benefit of the doubt.

That being said, it was a few years ago when a new mom asked me what type of shoes I recommended for her toddler to help him learn to walk. I very simply replied that I thought the less shoes the better. The more often the child could be barefoot the better. Of course, I wasn’t saying to walk down the street with no shoes on in New York City, but definitely around the house, in the backyard, a park, if applicable, etc. This mom looked at me with concern and disbelief which immediately made aware that this was not an expected response. I quickly tried to save the conversation and suggested some shoes I had purchased for my toddler.

I left that social interaction knowing I had completely missed my opportunity to explain myself and in fact did not think shoes were unnecessary. I understand that some shoes are more beneficial for early walking and some more restrictive. However, what stuck out to me later, as I mulled over yet another awkward social interaction (anyone else spend too much time doing this?) was this idea that shoes might be able to help our children learn how to walk.

So, here goes: the less we do, the better (most of the time).

When we allow infants the time and space to be infants - to move their bodies in their own way - they do all the steps in the sequence they need to do. Our children get to these milestones, such as walking like in this case, in their own time and in their own way. Their learning is intrinsic, it happens because it must. Most importantly, when we don’t intervene with our “help” or provide products that we think might speed up their development, our children get to feel ownership over their growth and mastery of these skills. This way, they naturally learn to support themselves and their developmental progress.  

When my children were learning to walk, I was adamant they learned to do this on their own. I wanted them to “learn to fall,” a phrase my father used when I was learning how to ride a dirt bike. I took this piece of advice, along with the limited knowledge I had as a young mother, and applied it to my children learning to walk. I did not interfere with their struggles to master this skill. I stood by when they lost their balance from standing, toddling and toddler running - which is the most terrifying thing ever. Did they have bumps and bruises? Of course. Will every child eventually get to this stage regardless? Probably. I will say I have seen both my kids save their faces and noggins multiple times; however, have had their fair share of black eyes and goose eggs far bigger than I was comfortable with.

If we allow our children to learn to fall, they will learn to catch themselves. Children learn the extent of what they can do and how to do it. Simply put, they become problem solvers. They learn to calculate what they want to do and how they can accomplish it. Does this mean we NEVER help them? What if they get stuck or the risk is more than you are comfortable with? Then we should adapt.  My approach is to get low, go slow and be present with them in these moments.

For example, when my son was just starting to walk, he approached a creek crossing filled with big rocks in rainboots. As he surveyed the treacherous crossing, standing there in his rainboots that cut him off at the knees, my response was to get on his level, be present and examine the situation with him. I took a minute to explain what I saw before him; I said the rocks might be tricky - the water makes them slippery. I explained that I would be standing right beside him if he was ready to cross. I tried to point to spots I thought might be helpful to step on and to note the mud and leaves on the other bank; basically, I was there to guide him through.

This, this very thought, this is the next level of critical thinking from learning to fall to being a self-learner. This step is pivotal. When we allow our children this control over their bodies, their environment and how they interact with it, we are saying to them: You are meant to explore. That you can explore what your body is capable of, your abilities within this environment and how the environment will iwith you in return.

“Be careful of what you teach, it might interfere with what they are learning.” -Magda Gerber

There is absolute magic in letting them be the leader. You are building more than just a child that walks, you are building a child that is confident in themselves, their ideas, their movements and their environment.

Finding Comfort in Discomfort

How do we find comfort in discomfort as parents? Most of us want to mitigate any discomforts our children may experience. We want to “soften the blow.” We want to protect them. Afterall, our child’s entire survival has depended on us from the beginning.

There is a fear of discomfort in parenting. A fear of a child not getting enough to eat, or that we aren’t providing enough; doing enough. A fear of holding a boundary and the behavior that might follow. A fear, as a parent, to witness the feeling of discomfort in our children and not being able to fix that discomfort. All of these scenarios are relatable to me, as a mother of two I have feared many of them as well.

My children are four and six and I still find myself struggling with their discomforts. The scenarios have changed a bit as they have grown but never the less instill a similar battle within myself.

I have said yes to something that I might not normally agree to, solely to avoid a tantrum. I have said yes - maybe because I was with friends, or maybe because I was tired and didn’t have the energy to enforce the boundary. No judgements here and honestly, it’s okay to change your mind - but more on that later.

In my years working with children and families and as I’ve embarked on this journey of working with and observing families as a Practicum Student this idea of discomfort has come up often and the more, I ponder it, the more I see it in everyday situations. When we are taking care of infants - every cry is a form of communication: “I’m hungry;” “I’m tired;” “I’m cold;” “I need some reassurance that your still here to tend to me.” Therefore, we respond. In fact, the younger the infant the more quickly we respond. We meet every need. Mainly because every need, must be met. We are the only reason they will survive. We are building trust in those early days, weeks and months. I believe this is exactly what we should be doing, at least that’s how I viewed it. I wasn’t interested in keeping a schedule, or sleep training, or giving a certain number of minutes for tummy time (okay, maybe I paid a little too much attention to that last one). I just responded. It didn’t matter what time of night or how many times a night, I responded.

However, there comes a time when needs turn to wants. The tide changes, you’re not so little infants starts to figure life out a little bit. They start to feel freedom, choices, options, likes and dislikes. They start to become more independent. Before we know it, and with no warning at all, we are meeting the wants of a very demanding toddler. In the words of the great Ruth Anne Hammond once said to me, “the rules are changing.” And so, begins a new chapter of parenthood. The rules are changing and we better figure out quick how we change with them.

The beginning of understanding the wants vs. needs is exemplified when we introduce boundaries. What boundaries do we hold and why? The ‘why’ is an important part and to be fair it has come back to bite me a few times. I have found myself in a power struggle wondering how I got there and suddenly searching for my ‘why’ and I don’t have one. Why does he have to wear his jacket? He is clearly telling me he isn’t cold. Why am I forcing this? Is this life or death? Does it matter right now? Do I trust that he will ask for it if he gets cold? Upon these realizations, I slowly back down and redirect myself.

While some boundaries are not an option and this will look different for different families, family dynamics, cultures, when you have guests over, when your solo parenting, etc. I’ve discovered that, for the most part, it’s okay to change the rules; however, knowing the day to day nonnegotiables are a must. If it works for you, it might be beneficial to sit down with your partner and figure out what those are. What is strictly safety, what do you value, what do you hope to instill in your child?

Boundaries are uncomfortable. For everyone involved, at least at first. They also take time. Time and practice. As you can imagine boundaries weren’t a huge hit with my toddlers, but this is one of the foundations in building a trusting relationship with your child. When we set a boundary with a child we are telling them: “I care about you, I see you and I’m in charge. I’ve got this situation under control and I can handle your discomfort.” For a child to be in control is scary, even if they won’t tell us that. Children don’t know the way and when a parent comes in and leads them there is a sense of relief. Relief that someone else is taking charge - someone else knows the way. Of course, there are many age-appropriate situations we can give them control over.  For example, “which pants do you want to wear? Blue or brown? Would you like to bring your hat to the park? Should we pack a pear or apple for snack?” These small areas help them to contribute to their day and their routines, they have control over these areas. They have important input.

Wondering where to start? Start small and start at home or a place that is a predictable environment. Once you begin being consistent, the bigger boundaries won’t feel so big to you and your child - that’s the hidden truth. When we start with small boundaries, our children get used to this feeling of discomfort - they have exposure to it. For example, my children are accustomed hearing “what you find at the park, stays at the park.” My son has a love of sticks and believe me when I say I have a quality pile of sticks at home for him to play with outside. When he was a toddler, he would of course ask to bring home every stick he found. After talking about it with my husband we started letting the kids know before we arrived to the park, if we found something we could play with it there and then we would leave it when it was time to go home. We had a few tears and we’ve broken the rule a few times when we found something really cool. However, now they understand the boundary with no reminder - they simply drop their items at the edge of the park as we leave.  This is a rather small boundary, insignificant really, but it helped lay the foundation for bigger ones like when we are at a store and my children ask to purchase something; they are familiar with an object not necessarily coming home. I can simply say “I’m not buying that today but it is really cool” and it’s no big surprise. However, it is a very big surprise when I say yes!

Madga Gerber said, “If we can learn to struggle, we can learn to live.”

Boundaries bring discomfort, discomfort with toddlers is an opportunity to learn to struggle. As parents we have the opportunity to be a part of the struggle; to guide the way, to lead by example. To show them that while this is a difficult part of life: “you are not alone. I’m here with you.” These boundaries are setting the foundation for discomforts in the future as well as building trust that even if it is uncomfortable, you are still there and your love never ceases. They can depend on you to be there with them in their most frustrated moments. The boundaries create a routine that emphasizes to our children that they know we will never cease to be by their sides and although we can’t always fix the problem (especially when they get older and the problems get more complex) we can be present with them in the pain. Our children don’t have to mask their discomfort and we don’t have to rush it. We can simply come along side and acknowledge it.

How are we to reap the joys of comfort? To know goodness. If we never experience the pains of discomfort, we can never truly appreciate the goodness life can offer. Our goal as parents shouldn’t be to avoid the discomforts that life will bring, rather to walk through the discomforts with our children.