Precious Emotion and Maturity

I’ve witnessed a couple of the most precious displays from Baby B over the past few days, ones that simultaneously melt my heart and make me wanna cry.

We were out to dinner on Saturday night, and I took the opportunity to tell the girls that I won’t be able to attend their fall festival at school.  [I feel terrible about it…it’s something they look forward to so much…but I made plans several months ago to go to an event with my dad.]

I expected the girls to be upset.  I can’t say they were thrilled, but they took it in stride when I told them they would still go with Daddy, only Mommy wouldn’t be there.  And then, moments later, I saw Baby B’s chin start to tremble.

“I don’t like it when you’re not home for night-night,” she told me.

To glimpse what's important to my precious girl!!!

And then, in the middle of that same night, B came to me around 2am to tell me she’d gotten sick to her stomach.  I asked her to go to the kitchen, and I made my way there.  I couldn’t quite put two-and-two together, as to how everything transpired.

B explained that she woke up feeling sick and came downstairs to get me.  “…but I saw you were sleeping, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Bless it!!!

She got her “bucket” out of the kitchen and lay on the couch instead.  She finally woke me only when she actually got sick.

There’s emotional maturity and the sweetness of my baby girl, all rolled into one.  It tugs at my heartstrings, for sure…and makes this heart of mine so happy.

Tender Hearts and the Big Screen

For Valentine’s Day, we took the girls to their first movie.  I’d seen the previews for Paddington, and I thought it looked sweet and funny.  I checked with a couple of friends who’d seen it, and they said it was very benign.  Their kiddos loved it.

The girls were excited to go.  We saw a “movie” at the planetarium a few months ago, and they have been talking about it since.  I prepped them as best I could, telling them how big the screen would be (“As big as the WALL???” Baby A kept asking), and that it would be dark during the movie.  They were set.

The movie began sweetly, but it was no time until there was a devastating earthquake.  Baby B hid her head, and Baby A started to cry.  Baby B remained tentative throughout the movie, and A cried off and on for the next 90 minutes.

My A was upset that the father of the family didn’t take kindly to having a bear in the house.  She was terrified of the villain in the film, the taxidermist who kept trying to steal Paddington from the family.  (Yes, a taxidermist.  Why I didn’t read about this and consider it might present a struggle, I don’t know.)

Baby B sat in my lap, and A sat by her daddy.  He kept hugging her, reassuring her.  A couple of times I tried to get his attention to see if he thought we should leave.  I had mixed emotions, for sure…it was torturous seeing A upset…but I thought it might be helpful for her to see the story through to witness the conflict resolution.

The movie had a happy ending, of course.  Walking out of the theater, Baby A said, “I liked the end, Mommy.”  She loved seeing the last couple of minutes, the family playing in the snow with Paddington.  And we talked a lot about the movie the rest of the day, confirming the girls’ understanding of certain parts, and trying to put them in context.

I don’t think the girls are scarred from the film, but I don’t think we’ll be making it back to the movies very soon.  Baby A has only seen a few movies (including Curious George and Milo and Otis), and she’s found both of those to be too intense, or “scary”, as she calls them.

Certainly I hate to see my babies in distress, but I so loves their precious, tender hearts.  I do hope they’re able to enjoy a good movie one day, but I hope that dear part of them never, ever fades.  

I'm Just Not Ready to Tell My Girls about 9/11

Last September 11^th, my girls were 3 ½.  It was a Tuesday.  As we passed the fire station on the way to preschool, the girls asked about the enormous flag that was suspended from one of the ladder trucks – a tradition in our town on this day.

I told them something along the lines of, “This day is the anniversary of a really challenging day for our country.  There were a lot of very brave people, like firefighters, who were very courageous on that day.  So on September 11^th, we remember that day, and we honor the heroes who serve our country, like the firefighters.”

That satiated the girls, and they talked about “brave firefighters” for the next few weeks, whenever we passed the fire station.

Over the weekend, Hubby and I watched a documentary on 9/11.  Hubby did some additional reading yesterday, and last night at supper he was telling what he’d read.  He was talking in general terms about “the planes”.

The girls, of course, were curious.  I wasn’t thinking about the conversation we’d had last year, or about the big flag in front of the fire station.  If I’d been on my game, I might have referenced that.

I chose a vague route instead.

“Daddy is talking about something that happened in the history of our country.  It’s a big concept, one we’ll talk about more when you are older.”

I believe in answering my children’s questions as open and as honestly as possible.  We’ve had lots of discussion on religion.  We’ve had a frank discussion about guns.  And I’ve answered anatomical questions about why boys go potty standing up.

The topic of 9/11 is not one I’m ready to discuss, though.

This morning, completely coincidentally, the girls are pretending to take a trip to New York.  One day – in the not-so-distant future – I will tell them what happened there, and in Washington, and in a field in Pennsylvania, on 9/11/01.  Not today, though.

We’ll make a trip downtown to see the enormous flag.  I’ll reiterate our thankfulness for the bravery of so many who serve our country.  But I’m going to shield their innocence for just a little while longer.

Trying to Figure Out This "Love Languages" Thing...

I posted several weeks ago about reading the Five Love Languages for Children. 

While I don’t feel like our girls have ever gone through a “tantrum” / attention-getting phase, I’ve had a palpable sense for a while now that there’s something to the idea of a “love tank”…that we need to feel emotionally “full” so that we can better withstand the inevitable bumps during the course of the day or week or month.

At the outset of the book, the author outlines that it’s not always possible to identify a child’s primary love language until she is a bit older…maybe six or eight.  Ultimately, as children are growing, they need to be addressed in all the love languages to solidify a healthy emotional base.  Also, a young child may rotate among the languages that most fulfill her.  It’s likely that only later a primary love language can be determined.

I have heard Marcia talk about her children’s love languages, having been able to identify them already.  I wish I could say the same…but I just can’t.  I remind myself of the author’s caution (so as not to feel bad that I can’t figure this out!), and frankly, I think the love languages run together so fluidly.

Thinking about myself, I have at times been really humbled at receiving gifts, for example…but I don’t think that’s speaking to my “gifts” language.  It actually feels more like an “act of service”, that someone knows me so well to seek to buy such a thoughtful gift.  Or, I could almost see it as “words of affirmation”, given the sentiment that accompanied the gift.  And then there’s the “time” that was invested in putting the gift together.  Hmmm…

As I try to observe my girls with this in mind, the best I’ve been able to do is to think about what they want when they’re upset, and how do they most often show their affection for me.

Baby A has been very affectionate lately.  When she gets upset over something, she comes running for a hug.  Sometimes she’ll even ask, “I want a hug!  And a kiss!”  She can be so incredible tender, as she loves to snuggle and be near me.  I am guessing that she’s most motivated by physical touch.

Baby B interrupts what she’s doing quite often to volunteer, “I love you, Mommy.” She does it at random, and also when she’s upset.  I am guessing that she’s most motivated by words of affirmation.

There’s no doubt in my mind that our girls feel loved.  We maintain a positive energy and we’re actively engaged with each other and as a family.  We are affectionate and giving towards each other, and it would be absolutely impossible for me to go through a day without showering my babies with hugs and kisses and coos.

Still, since I’ve been thinking specifically about the love languages approach, I’ve been a little more intentional to try to “top off” the girls’ love tanks, in particular before I divert my attention to something else.  Before I extract myself to make supper, for example, I make sure to give the girls some extra hugs and get in a couple of additional “I love you’s”.

I can’t say whether it’s made a precise difference with the girls, but if nothing else, there’s no harm in hugs and kisses and words of affirmation.

I still think the “Love Languages” is an interesting and valid concept, one that I’ll continue to ponder.  So...once again...to be continued!

Insight in Our Tender Heart...

…at least at school.

My precious Baby A has continued to be a little more emotional, but at least I have insight into what was troubling her at school over the past week.

Poor Mrs. G addressed me in the hallway before school was out on Tuesday.  “I think it’s my fault, and I just feel terrible.”  This sweet lady has a heart of solid gold, and she was almost in tears herself, telling me what happened.

Mrs. G told me that she was feeling really warm in the classroom that day.  She saw that A was dressed in a sweater and turtleneck, and she thought she was probably too warm, too.  She took off A’s sweater, and A started to cry.  She said that A was fine, as soon as they went out into the hallway for bathroom time and A was able to get her sweater out of her cubby. 

This triggered her to think about the prior week, when she called me to come get A.  She said that she had taken her sweater off that day, too, and hadn’t realized it had bothered her.

If my Baby A weren’t in a heightened emotional state, I don’t think this would bother her…but at least we figured out what was setting her off at school.

Sweet Mrs. G felt so bad, I just knew.  I couldn’t bear to tell her the backstory, at least on Tuesday…

Over the prior weekend, Baby A had asked to wear her panda sweater.  It wasn’t clean, so I told her I would make sure to wash it and she could wear it to school on Tuesday.  Our girls don’t usually seem to focus much on what they’re wearing, but she was really set on that sweater for some reason.  She talked on Sunday and Monday that she was excited to go to school on Tuesday and wear her panda sweater.

Then, Tuesday morning as we were getting dressed, Baby A said to me, “And if I get hot at school, I can take off my sweater,” since she was wearing a turtleneck underneath it.

It was a very cold day, and I am not wild about changing clothes in front of people, so I told her, “You can if you really need to, but I hope you’ll be able to wear your clothes as they are.”

So…not only was my Baby A wearing her coveted panda sweater, but I had specifically asked her not to take it off.

I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

The takeaway…from Mrs. G at school, and later from me, at home…was that it’s OK to tell someone – even a teacher – if they are asking you to do something you don’t want to.  You are not in trouble if you say politely, “I don’t want to take my sweater off.”

If only all life’s problems were as easily solved.

(My gut is that A's sensitivity will pass, if history is any indication.  I do have some thoughts along the lines of the Five Love Languages...for another post.)

Tender Heart

It’s happened twice this week.

The first time, we sat cuddled on the couch in the girls’ room after nap, reading a story about Lilypet.

Lilypet is a pristine white field mouse who disobeys her mommy and wanders away from their house in search of adventure. She tries to make friends with some animals on a farm, but they are scared of her. She runs away from the farm, only to come face to face with a tom cat. She narrowly escapes the cat, only to then realize she’s lost.

At that point in the story, I glanced at Baby A, and her little chin was trembling, tears welled in her eyes.

“It’s OK!” I told her, turning the page. “Look! See, Lilypet finds her way home, and here she is with her mommy, safe and warm.”

Despite the picture of the happy ending, Baby A was quite upset, crying. She climbed into my lap and burrowed her face against my shoulder. We had to put the book away and move on to something else.

A day or so later, the girls asked to read from the book of fairy tales they got for Christmas. Judging solely by the pictures they insisted on reading “the one with the ducks”, The Ugly Duckling.

Given what had happened with the Lilypet story, I was trying to temper my usually-impassioned style of reading, and hurry through the sadder parts. But my efforts were to no avail. We made it to the part of the story where the ducks are teasing the baby swan, and Baby A lost it again.

Of course I don’t like to see her upset – and I’ll try to be more discerning about what stories we read for a while – but oh, how I just want to wrap her tender little heart in the softest blanket and cuddle my baby girl forever.