Instead of "Please say Thank you." I think: "I trust you."

When I go and pick up Leander from the creche he comes running towards me and cannot wait to go. Well at least out to the front garden where the bigger children play. He does not turn back. He does not say „Good bye.“ I know that this is something I can not force him to do. But the teachers are making a real effort in meeting and greeting all the children by their names. Every day they say „Good bye Leander, see you tomorrow.“ Sometimes I ask him if he wants to say Good bye. Sometimes he does. Sometimes not.

I know that teaching a child when to say Hello, Thank you or Sorry is not necessary. And I don‘t. Yet there is this tiny bit of „Good behaviour“ that I have learned from my parents and the society‘s critical look sitting in my neck.

Then I remember how my mom used to tell me to say Thank you to my granny for my birthday or Christmas presents. And although I obviously had done it already I did so again and when we left the house I did again. And still wasn‘t sure if that was enough. When I grew older and Christmas presents resulted in a money transfer to my bank account my mom would call me to ask if I had called my granny. Again I wasn‘t sure how often I should call her to make sure she knew that I indeed was grateful. It was awful and even today I am sometimes not sure how to thank people. Is it enough to say it? Do I have to give something back? How often can one say „I‘m sorry“ so the other one really believes that I AM sorry indeed? How often do we say sorry, although we aren‘t really?

Alfie Kohn has made it quite clear: ‘Thinking a child is going to feel sorry just because you make him say he’s sorry? The only thing that’s going to do is teach the child to lie about his feelings!’

So no. No matter how much society expects my son to be well behaved. I am not teaching him to say „Hello.“ to somebody stretching out his hand towards him. Because I trust him that he can learn that himself. He watches us. Watches society. Carefully and closely. You might think is a little out of space, sitting in his stroller, sucking his thumb. Instead he is trying hard to get to know the world around him.

The other night I was lying next to him in his bed waiting for him to go to sleep. He suddenly sat up and asked: „Mommy, where are you?“ I said „I‘m right here.“ But it was so dark, he couldn‘t see me. So he startet crawling around to find me and he accidentally kicked his knee on my head. It didn‘t hurt much and I didn‘t say anything. Suddenly I felt a tiny warm hand stroking my forehad and Leander whispering: „I‘m sorry mommy.“
That‘s how I know that I can trust him.

THiS MAY HURT

Recently the little man was facing his what felt like 1000th vaccination in his short life. While I don't want to go into the pro & contra debate about vaccinations I would like to share some meaningful moments and experiences I had that day.

In the morning I told the little man where we were about to go and what was going to happen. He was really interested when I told him about the doctor, the stethoscope, the ear- and throat examination just to check if he would be ok to get a shot. And then I told him about the painful part. He was nodding away, even when I said "This may hurt a little."
"Doctor! Doctor!" was all he said and when being told we would be going there by bus happiness was all over him. He loves riding the bus.

So all was well. We took the bus and we got off way too early (in his mind he would be going 3 rounds from one end to the other before getting off a bus again). We went into the building and put the stroller in the hallway. He climbed up the stairs and we went in. All happy. All smiley.
I went to the reception, handed his health insurance card over and said why we were there. He looked around and when he looked at me all the happiness was gone. Big teary eyes looked at me, he shook his head and said "No! no!"
I said: "You know exactly where we are, right?" - "Yes." Even though I told him before - reality just hit him.
He had a shaky voice. I felt shaky too. All I wanted to do is to protect him, take him and run away. But I had put this off for so long. And he already had 2 of the necessary shots for this vaccination. It would be really silly to leave out the third now. So I picked him up and went into the waiting room with him.
There were toys, small cars and other children. He couldn't care less. Sitting on my lap sucking his thumb he watched the other kids play. But I knew he wasn't watching. He was dealing with what was coming up. So I jumped in and talked to him. Again. About what was going to happen. "No!" He shook his head and started to cry. I started to cry too a little. I felt so bad for taking him there.
I looked at the other kids and felt the parents look at us, probably thinking I was mad for frightening my boy that much. And I wondered....

The other kids looked happy. They were playing away, talking and smiling. But they were here in the healthy kids waiting room so what else could they want apart from vaccinations ? So why were they not scared? Did they KNOW why they were here? Did they know what was about to happen?
So what was better? Having a happy kid playing along and suddenly facing the truth the moment the doctor set up the needle? Or a kid being scared all the time, probably building up more and more fear the longer it took till we were called in? It seemed that the first way seemed happier and healthier. But if you know me you know that I believe to be more behind all this.

I am scared of the dentist as hell. I refuse to go until it's really bad. As soon as I get the appointment I am nervous until it's all over. What if I wouldn't know about it and would be taken somewhere and suddenly realize what was about to happen? I wouldn't go in. I would run. Fast and far. I NEED this preparation time, as painful as it is.
Our neighbor is a dental assistant who does mouth hygienic treatment. It is quite expensive but for us she tries to make good deals or even swaps jobs so we help her out with stuff in exchange for a treatment. Before Christmas the practice where she works was closed but she had to go and take care of some phone calls anyway. So she called me and said that the next morning I could go with her and get treatment for free. I am scared of this as much as I am scared of the dentist itself. I couldn't. It was too short notice. I couldn't get ready for it.

What I need during those times is somebody who takes me serious. I don't need a "Come on, it won't be that bad. You will survive." kind of talk. I need my husband who is not that scared at all but says things like "You are really nervous about that right? I wish I could help you at all with this." That's it.

And so I knew that this was what the little man needed in this moment too. Me. Not us running away. No fun playing games distraction. No "It won't hurt you." talk. So I pulled myself together and decided to be there for him.
And I wanted him to experience his fear. I couldn't take that off him all his life. So why not help him go through this instead of trying to avoid for most of the time? OK I do believe that we tend to do it because we ourselves have barely learned to deal with our fears, not mentioning the fears of others. So it is probably a self protection to try and "protect" your child. But from what? Again - from dealing with his own fears. And that's no protection. That's danger.
Plus - I want him to trust me. How can he do this when I take him somewhere to play and suddenly in another room for some painful treatment without any warning but obvious knowledge of any of it?

We were called in the doctor's office. She wasn't there yet. They have a few of them and you are always called in way before she shows up. So it was waiting again. The nurse came in and prepared everything. Then it was just us again. The little man cried. A lot. And I kept talking to him. "You are scared. That's ok. You are allowed to cry and scream as much as you need. I will be there and hold you. But it is necessary that we do this."
His crying changed eventually. It went from the "I want to go NOW!" to the "I see I don't have a choice but I still don't like this" crying. And I liked this. Because he was allowed to NOT like it. I was happy with that because I could deal with that much better.

He started to look around and pointed at a picture on the wall. Cars that were painted all over the room. We looked at them and he said "Bus!" I said "Yes, when we are done we will be going home by bus." He nodded. He kept repeating it as if he was making sure that WE WILL BE GOING HOME. It seemed to help him a lot. There were moments of laughter too. All of this initiated by him, not by me trying to distract him from anything. It felt so right.

When the doctor came in it happened all really fast. I knew this because I know her. I can't remember much of what she said because before the little man and i became such a great team that I just sticked with him. Told him to scream if he needed to. He needed to. And as soon as she was done and let go off him he said "Bus!" and I smiled and nodded and said "Yes. We're going home by bus now."

It was all done. The whole day he kept repeating everything the doctor had done to him. He had an imaginary stethoscope and checked my heartbeat and his. He showed me where he got the shot and stated that it hurt. But apart from that he was fine. And I knew that we were took the right path that day.

CAREFUL LiTTLE HANDS

This evening I had a meeting within our housing project. I had to take Leander to the office because his father came to pick him up there on his way home from work. While I was preparing the flipcharts and the To do list in the meeting room, Leander made himself busy in the kitchen. Usually I would run after him and carefully watch what he was doing. Today I just took all the knives out of the drawer and placed them out of reach. Then I did what I had to do and Leander did what he felt like doing.

Since I am recently doing the Montessori children's house teacher training I am aware of the joy and excitement children bring along for all sorts of housework. Basically everything they see us doing. They want to be part of our world and society. So they don't just copy us in their play, they want to take part in the REAL world. And it is our job to LET THEM (in a safe environment).
This does not mean placing plastic cups and cutlery and knitted fruits in their reach. It means to trust them and allow them to experience with the real stuff.

I have been really keen but also a bit scared with that myself. I bought Leander glass bottles from the beginning (until I learned that he would refuse any type of bottle or drinking item that is not the breast). He learned drinking in a plastic cup called the "Doidy Cup" because it was THE ONLY thing he would accept when he started eating and needed to take in a bit more fluids. After that he was allowed to drink from glasses, ceramic cups and eat from ceramic plates with stainless steel spoons and forks. So far he broke one plate in two halfs so we could glue it back together (because it is a plate from me when I was little and I love it) and the handle of one cup. I was almost hoping there would be more damage in the cup section as we have too many anyway.
It took me a while to empty the dish washer with Leander around because as soon as he sees the machine open he comes running over reaching me every single glass, cup, plate and spoon. He loves to help and he is so careful that so far nothing happened. It's in our heads and once it's there - it happens. But even if it did - don't we ever drop any plates by accident?
If we keep taking things out of their little but careful hands the minute they grab them we take chances and opportunities from them to learn, to experience and to practise. And at the age of 14 we might shout at them for not being independent and careful.

So here is what Leander felt like doing and although I didn't need him to because we had a meeting planned and not a dinner I couldn't help but watch (and film):



Unfortunately I stopped too early but here is a picture of him a little later with a pizza plate that is almost as big as himself in his hands:



Montessori once said something like "If we give them precious material to work (play) with the children will feel precious too." Without words, hugs or kisses. And I think I have seen the living proof of that today.