My youngest turned 5 recently. Part of me is dying inside because age five just seems too old for it to be the age of my youngest child. At the same time, I'm loving this new stage of life we're in. I don't have to carry around a diaper bag, there are no baby food pouches, my kids can get in and out of the car by themselves 90% of the time (certain car seats are harder than others), and I can feel like an adult again instead of someone's mother. Don't get me wrong - I love being a mother and I wouldn't have had two children if I didn't and serve them in all the ways I have - but it's really nice to have adult conversation, be able to read books, and not be called on for miscellaneous help every 5 minutes.
But, there are still hard moments. Even though he's 5, he doesn't verbalize as much as he should when he needs help due to his shy personality. When he plays, he's super verbal. Otherwise, for the big things, he needs to be prompted in order to elicit a response. I'm trying to get him out of the habit because I need to know he can survive if he's not next to me. Could I just send him off to day care/school and force him to interact with others? I could and I can, but that's my choice not to. So these lessons need to be learned in other ways.
He asked for a snack last week and I gave him a cheese stick. Everything was going fine, but he couldn't open it, so he shoved the cheese stick in my face. Of course, I knew what he wanted me to do. I could have easily opened it for him, given it back, and life would have gone on. However, that's not what I did. I told him to tell me what he needed. He didn't. So then began a half hour ordeal of crying, pouting, and me putting the cheese stick back into the refrigerator.
I went over to him and told him: we, he and his mommy, had a special bond, and mommy could read his mind and figure things out without him needing to say anything. But not everyone had this special ability. And I needed to know, if it was required, he could verbalize what he needed to get the assistance or help he needed. He proceeded to cry on his bed and I left him alone and started to write this blog.
Just under ten years ago, I remember having a conversation with my aunt. My husband and I had driven the few states over to visit her and it was the first time I truly sat down and had conversations with her as an adult. We didn't have children yet at the time, but we were talking about kids, how to raise them, and some memories my aunt had when her children, my cousins, were younger. At one point, we were talking about one of my cousins and a difficult period for him. I had commented that sometimes you have to let them learn the hard way.
She responded to me and said, "It's really hard to watch your own kids fail. You will know when you have your own children."
Fast forward many years, and indeed, I had my own children. I love them dearly and they are so special to me. The other day I just sat in the car and stared into my daughter's face for what felt like a minute as she stared back at me thinking to myself, how is my daugther so beautiful? And I've also had many hard times with my children which have made me yell, scream, and smack some tables. It's an imperfect journey that will never be mastered.
But I've watched my children fail. In our latest cheese stick scenario, I watched him fail, grab his penguin for comfort, and go lay on his bed and cry. As a parent, this is hard. I sat on the couch listening to him cry while I opened the mail. And as much as I hated to hear his whimpering, I knew this had to be one step in the long journey of life he has ahead of him. Even if he doesn't learn from this situation, it's going to be part of the building blocks which make up his experiences, his personality, and ultimately, what his life will be like. *He never ate the cheese stick, didn't respond to anything I had said, and it felt like this situation resolved without being resolved.*
A few days after this incident, he chose a packet of crackers as dessert for finishing his dinner. He and his dad went to get it from the pantry and then he came over to me as I was still sitting at the kitchen table. He handed it to me and asked me to open it with a complete sentence, and very nicely at that. I wish I could remember his exact words as I remember being in awe he had come up to me and said that. Many instances after, I've heard him ask me to help him open individually wrapped food (including multiple cheese sticks).
My son failing with regards to this cheese stick incident has small repercussions in the grand scheme of things. But less than a week later, he got it. Was my aunt right when she said watching my own children fail is really hard? Absolutely. And this may be a very small representation of what is to come in our future experiences. But the cost may be ultimately greater if we don't let them fail in healthy ways.
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