So, here I am on my first girl’s weekend. Okay, it is really a weekend spent with my four year old daughter, but that still counts as a girl’s weekend, right? The two of us headed up to the Adirondacks yesterday afternoon, leaving my husband and 20 month old son in the city. My husband was the one to encourage the two of us to come here by our selves,which everyone I have talked to said was, “very brave of him”, but I am not sure what exactly the “brave” part is – it is his son after all, and nobody tells me how “brave” I am when I spend time alone with the children, but I don’t really expect anyone too – such is the plight of a mother – but I digress…
We had an uneventful drive last night, although we did hit quite a bad snow storm which made conditions a little treacherous for the last 30 miles, but we arrived intact. After a quick snack, it was bed for both of us. The morning started slow enough – we slept in until 7:00 (my son generally awakens at 5:30, so trust me 7:00 was a luxury). My daughter did some crafty things, I had a shower, we waited for some lumber to be delivered, and for someone to come measure our kitchen. Not much was planned for the afternoon – I thought we would go out for lunch, grab some groceries for dinner, and then go to the nursery to see what we could plant in the Spring, and then go to Main Street and look at some shops.
Well, we never made it past lunch and the grocery store. Lunch was a disaster – behavior and attitude wise – from my dear daughter. Up, and down, and all around! You would think that we have never eaten in a restaurant before. Generally, when we do eat out – my daughter is quite content with sticker books, drawing paraphernalia, and the odd children’s book. However, today she was having none of it. I had brought along some new little sticker books for her, and my writing journal – hoping to generate some ideas and brainstorm. I don’t think I need to go into details – I am sure that most parents have experienced very similar situations, and most non-parents have witnessed someone else going through the same experience and have thanked their lucky stars that they do not have children!
The car ride home was not happy – lecturing, and tears, a raised voice on my part, and promises to behave starting “right this minute” on the part of my daughter. Didn’t feel like buying any of it – so we got groceries and spent the rest of the afternoon at home.
It was at home that I had my “epiphany”. I happened to pick up a book that I received for Christmas last year entitled, Graceful Parenting, by Eve M. Dreyfus, M.D. I was hoping to be inspired for some magazine articles that I hope to submit in the coming weeks. Instead, what I found were these words that lept out to me -
- children do not purposely misbehave, they are not tyring to hurt you or make your life hard, they are doing the best they can
- you don’t need to yell to get your point across
- don’t expect too much from your child – instead learn what to expect from your child at each age
All sage advice, which of course I wish I had been reminded of before we went out to lunch! Upon further reflection there was a lot going on at the lunch that I didn’t acknowledge. First, my expectations were for a nice, quiet, mature meal – where I could spend some time working – while my daughter entertained herself for part of the meal – she obviously had different expectations. Second, we sat in a booth with a large bench that was perfect for sliding across and driving your mother crazy – we also sat right next to a glass partition that separated the bar from the restaurant – it was a great temptation to my daughter to stand up and see what was going on in the other room. Third, she was greatly distracted by a large group where a young girl and her brother were running all over the restaurant (which also drives me crazy, but clearly delighted my daughter). In reality, my daughter didn’t throw food across the restaurant, she didn’t start screaming like a banshee, and for the most part she stayed in her seat (expect for the peeking across the partition), we even managed to have some funny conversation and giggles – not bad for lunch with a four year old.
As an educator I know what to expect from young children. It is difficult to change your thinking mid-stream when you expect more out of your own child than you know they are really capable of achieving. As I read the sentences listed above, I reached over to my daughter on the couch, gave her a big hug, and told her I loved her. Her dimpled smile was what I expected. We will try again tomorrow – and take our weekend one moment at a time…
