A friend of a friend, a poetess, in an attempt to funnel her creativity, post child, has developed the "momku." She's got some great one's here: http://twitter.com/momku -but this one really had me rolling on the floor:
Potty training broke / Me. Bribing with jelly beans / Suck it, Alfie Kohn
First off, I love the momku idea. I don't know how it is for someone who does, say, real estate, and then becomes a stay-at-home-mom, but us artists types seem to have a hard time laying our passions totally aside. Some superstars write a couple of novels while homeschooling their progeny, others of us make cloth castles, blogs or momkus.... But its gotta go somewhere. Do ex-real-estaters feel compelled to drive around looking at properties? Does everybody jones for what they did in their past life?
But I seriously digress. Alfie Kohn. So in following the rabbit hole to unschooling, Alfie Kohn was a bright neon sign, pointing us towards societal strangeness. His book, Unconditional Parenting, is just Beyond. (Here's a great little article that sums up some of his studies: http://www.alfiekohn.org/parenting/gj.htm) In a nutshell, he talks about kids doing things for innate reasons rather than getting a "good job" or a piece of candy. Pooping on the potty for the sake of not sitting in shit, rather than for sucking on the skittle. He backs up his points with well formed studies that would sway a Puritan. Of course, at the end of the book you are left without punishments, bribery, or manipulations, however nice they seem. In a no man's land of cluelessness, really. You staunchly believe you should reside in this territory, but you are scared shitless your kid will make serious mayhem without some sort of "approach." Fortunately, Naomi Aldort picked up nicely where Mr. Kohn left off. The thought of actually connecting with your child, respecting that short person's point of view as much as you wish he would respect yours, fills in nicely for the time-outs and naughty rugs. But I digress, again...
So, along with not knowing what a "time-out" even is, P also hadn't heard any "good jobs" from us. When he is pleased with himself he generally says nothing, "see that?" or "I did it!" E and I have spent a lot of inner work killing the "you're so amazing, oh my god i'm so proud of you good job you're the smartest/fastest/cutest" out of us. This of course doesn't mean we aren't thinking it :) we're just attempting to not screw him up with these externalized parental proclamations, lest he forget his destiny is decided by himself rather than the 2 judgmental, smiling morons with lollies. And then the scooter came into our lives.
He's fast. Very fast. People routinely ask how old he is and comment on his agility (perhaps because they compare him to me...) We were flying downhill today over root-riddled sidewalk and I saw a veritable obstacle course in front of us. It was a new path for us and I was cursing the absence of his helmet as he dodged, glided and jumped over the deathtrap. There was no hesitation, no braking, no falling. Not to say he won't bite it again tomorrow, but I'm finding those moments really difficult to keep quiet about. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to need commentary, he sliced through the bumps and kept going without any need for affirmation.
But when his speed, need for independence and traffic converge, silent smiles sometimes don't cut it. When he skirts a crowd and skids to a stop at a busy corner I find the words "well done, thank you" popping out of my mouth. I know kids do it everywhere, everyday, he's no skateboarding prodigy by an means, but as I teeter behind him I'm still impressed he doesn't land in front of a truck. Less used to P's scooter escapades, Ethan is often nervous around traffic. Lately this leads to a number of "good jobs" as E thanks the stars P isn't a pancake. We honestly don't mean to, the adrenaline seems to shoot the stuff straight out our mouths.
And then P repeats us. As I finished a troublesome toy fix the other day P rewarded me with a "well done, mama." E has been blessed by a couple of "good job, papa"'s of late too. I gotta say, its interesting being patted on the head by a three year old. And I find it fascinating that he is actually matching the reward to the right parent. And that he's repeating the stuff after only hearing it a handful of times.
Fortunately, as the scooter becomes a third leg for P, E and I are again taming our tongues. Because really, at the end of the day I'd like him to stop at the corner because he wants to stay alive, not because he's afraid of getting in trouble, losing a lolly or missing a "good job!"
After I blogged about how easy it was to get out of the house lately we didn't leave the house for daaaaays. Mental note from the Universe: accept all as good, stop being so pleased when things go your way, all is well, all is well, all is well. Ok, got it. Nevertheless, can this blog Please not result in P being a pancake? Ugh. Independence and safety collide and it Sucks.
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