“You might want to say awesome.”
Words straight out of my 3-year-old’s mouth. Apparently I didn’t praise her quickly enough–in this case for getting herself dressed.
Or maybe it wasn’t the getting dressed itself, rather the choice of clothing: A fleece pullover of dinosaur print that, not so incidentally, has a matching fleece dinosaur-print hat, complete with stegasaurus-like spikes. She was getting dressed for school–an event that happens only twice per week–and I gathered that she’d been planning the ensemble for some time.
Sweetie and I have laughed about this particular sentence spoken by our spirited and strong-willed daughter, who provides us with plenty of entertainment in the way of her expressive storytelling daily. But what has resonated with me, even a week after her announcement/request, is the truth and simplicity that young children don’t hesitate to ask for what they need. Whether it’s more juice, help tying a shoe or a hug, my kids are experts at letting their needs by known.
I am not good about asking for what I need. Not good at all. And although I’ve always felt this way, as far back as I can remember, I’m quite sure that when I was a child (at least before age 5, according to my mom, the esteemed GG), I was like any other kid, demanding attention or help any number of times in a given day.
As mothers so many of us remark on the number of times we hear “Mom!” “Mama!” “Mommy!” in a given day (or hour). Depending on the number of kids in the house, these demands come at increasing frequency and increasing decibels. Most days I crave silence.
But since this sweet, innocent remark from my precocious 3-year-old––my youngest and last child: “You might want to say [the briefest of pauses] awesome,” spoken while raising her eyebrows just the slightest bit, her huge dark brown eyes full of expectation, I’ve been thinking about how it happened that I lost this trait. When is it that I not only matured enough to be a little more resourceful but also withdrew excessively so as not to feel the right to need anything at all.
I recognize that even just a few years ago I might have laughed at my daughter and gone on with my day, jotting down her cute sentence on a scrap of paper nearby, intending to transcribe it in a more important place but ultimately losing it. I recognize that I’m changing. As I come out of the babyhood of my children, I’m spending just a tiny bit more time on me. And while I still don’t shower as often as I’d like or get enough sleep or have many clothes that fit, I do have more self awareness. I do have a few minutes to really think about how I feel. And why. And to try my best to express both, to myself and to the people I love.
I’m getting better. The awareness is continuing. I know I don’t need to do everything myself. (These three kids have had everything to do with this clarity.) And that it’s OK to ask for something without worrying too much about inconveniencing someone else. And while I still could stand to speak up a little louder when I need a pat on the back, I also know that I will always have a hard time putting myself first. Fortunately for all of us I don’t foresee myself changing my firm belief that the kids should come first. And I want my children always to be able to tell me what they need, even if I can’t always be the one to give it to them right away.
As it turns out, I’m not doing so badly.
I said, “Awesome!”
Read More in GG, history aka before kids, Jen Writes, three kids, writing, youngest child