Simply Mother

So I twittered about how I was getting a little annoyed at Jane’s seemingly constant opposition to anything and everything I wanted her to do, and how Matt noticed my annoyance and pulled me aside to remind me: “She feels safe with you. If she didn’t feel safe, she would just do whatever you said without questioning. Or thinking. That is not what we want.”

He’s so right and I’m so grateful to have a husband who can see the wonder and beauty and awesomeness inside our children even when the outward manifestations of those things it a little, er, offsetting.

But I didn’t want to leave you with the wrong impression, that we glorify “independence” so much that we want our kids to be oppositional. We do want them to think for themselves, and we want them to feel safe questioning us, and to learn how to say no graciously, but we also seek some level of cooperation.

We just want that cooperation to be genuine, and not coerced. And for that to happen, I suppose they have to feel free to say no, right?

The thing is, Jane isn’t saying no out of any real desire not to do whatever it is I’m asking. I’m no expert and I’m not entirely sure what is going on here. Is three simply the age where they really hit the “autonomy-seeking” thing hard? Is she actively testing and trying these things outthings out, like some little scientist?

Hmm, Mom says this, but what happens if I say that? Which one happens? Who’s decides what I do? Can she make my body go? Or do I have to do it?

She acts as if every request made to her is an attempt to control her — her whole goal becomes, How can I do what she wants without looking like I’m just doing what she wants? Seriously, this is what I’m seeing. It’s actually kind of comical to watch. (As long as I’m in the right mindset!)

So I’ll say, sweetly, “Jane, it’s time for family prayer.” And she nonchalantly looks up … over … away … turns on her heel, stares at the ceiling … and I wait patiently.

When she notices my demeanor is benign, she says sweetly (and oh-so-importantly), “I have to do something first.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“I can’t tell you. I’ll tell you when I get back.”

And then she walks off, very purposefully, but when she’s out of sight (she thinks), she just kind of glances around for a minute and then notices a light switch, walks over, turns it on, and then walks back, again very importantly.

Now she is ready for family prayer.

As long as I give a couple minutes for this little charade — every time, seriously, about everything, even things she normally has no problem doing (which honestly is just about everything, as she has been such an easy-going kid thus far) — the situation progresses smoothly.

Sometimes I get to thinking I don’t have time for this — which is kind of silly, right? I mean, I’m a stay at home mom. A homeschooling stay at home mom. Taking time to stand by her side while she grows and develops and finds her way is pretty much my main agenda for the day.

Anyway, but sometimes I tell myself I really don’t have time, or it’s not necessary, or I shouldn’t have to go through this whole song and dance every time I need her to do something on my time table — and I try to side step it, or rush her, or just tell her basically, “Come on girl, let’s GO,” but I always pay for these moves later. Even though I might succeed in getting that thing done, it won’t be long before another thing comes up that she will be even more unable to do.

In fact, now that I think about it, it’s my doing stuff like that that is very likely contributing to her hesitancy about cooperating! Parenting Rule of the day (that I just made up two seconds ago): Investing five extra minutes in the beginning saves about twenty in the end.

Then there’s also the concept of connection. Lots of parenting experts write about children feeling “connected” with their parents and how that leads to good feelings and cooperation. On the other hand, when they’re disconnected they’re, well, impossible.

This theory fits very well in our family. We definitely experience times of disconnection — lots of normal, everyday things happen to create this — and virtually nothing productive will happen in the relationship until connection is restored.

What I’m wondering is if there is something peculiar to three-year-olds that makes these feelings of disconnection happen more frequently? It’s like there’s some kind of developmental shift that opens up a whole new awareness of their power — their person-ness, if you know what I mean. And they are having to sift through that new paradigm in the midst of a constant barrage of parental request and injunctions, and figure out what to do with it.

I did study child development in college but it’s been a few years and all I really have to go on now is my experience with my own children, but this is what it looks like to me. Jane is literally trying to figure something out. I ask her to do something and I watch her whole body just stop, shift, turn inward. She is thinking, in her own three-year-old way. She wants to do what I’m asking, especially if she is connected with me, because she trusts me and wants to maintain a good rapport.

But there is also something inside her — something I’m sure very good and important and useful — that is keeping her from jumping in and going right along with everything I say like she used to.

As a disclaimer: I really don’t want to squash that “something.” I’m not looking for advice on how to get her to stop resisting me. This isn’t even really an issue — not anything I’m terribly worried about anyway. I mean, it does make life take a little longer, but nobody said parenting was an efficient process, right?

I’m just writing about it to investigate what’s going on, and share with you because I’m sure you’ve had similar experiences. Sariah went through the same thing as this age, I know it works itself out. At least until thirteen or so, when we’ll probably get to go through it all over again!

Filed in: family • parenting | December 14, 2009