Make Way for Superheros

Many developmental and psychological theorists have explored the cognitive and behavioral shift that tends to occur as children enter the preschool years. Described as a search for autonomy and initiative, a time where reality shows up in social and dramatic play, or a place where there's a growing awareness of others aside from self, this is a special time in which the young child's awareness of self meets awareness of the world. In my own life, I've noticed this time of transition is marked by a fascination with unexpected abilities. In the case of my daughter, this was the time in which Disney's amazing marketing powers managed to seep into our home in the form of princesses. For my son, it's been more of a Marvel experience.

As my little boy approached his 3rd birthday, his interest in trains, puzzles, blocks, and cars made way for a seemingly sudden and an almost explosive passion for superheroes. I think I can trace the beginnings to Spiderman Band Aids discovered at a friend's house. Or maybe it was the first peek at the Target aisle that was a dramatic shift from the world of primary colors (Baby Einstein), wide friendly eyes (Thomas the Train) or the pink and lavender parade (all things Disney). Regardless of the roots of its inception, my son's sudden interest in superheroes was something we could not ignore. At first, it felt like we had landed on a new planet where everything from learning to use the toilet to eating a healthy dinner could be linked to a WWSD (What Would Superheroes Do?) mentality. This worked, to some extent, as our little boy asked for his "Batman Panties" (Remember, there's an older sister in the mix here) or seconds on broccoli to get strong like Spiderman. But the marvel of the superhero fascination takes on a new meaning with respect to what's happening in this stage of learning and growing.

As children move through their third year, an awareness of the child's own capabilities across all domains of development (physical, social, emotional, and cognitive) highlights a common thread of power. Just as children's language is at a place where they can understand others and communicate their own needs (it is estimated that two-year-olds learn an average of 11 new words per day), there's the realization that words are powerful and might need to be redirected to particular places and audiences. Just as their physical strength and agility begins to take off, there is the constant reminder for balance between safety and adventure. The fence in the playground is not so dissimilar from Spiderman's net when it comes to stopping action and bounding exploration.

Children's search for power is coupled with the developmental need for safety. In relationships, environments, and experiences, children crave an understanding of their own safety and they look to others to help define it. I think of the moment children get to check out a new environment, like a hotel room. What's the first thing they do? If my own children serve as a gauge, kids run from room to room opening doors, looking out windows, and testing environmental features, such as jumping on the bed. Behind this activity is the internal search for boundaries and knowledge of the environment. Only after this exploration do children feel safe and connected again.

As I've watched my son's fascination with Spiderman, Batman, Aqua Man, Superman, and this odd little monkey that has 6 legs and supposed radioactive abilities, I've noticed a growing awareness of danger or things that feel scary. The immense feeling of power and amazing abilities of our superhero friends is closely followed by a sense that there must be other amazingly scary things nearby too. In recent weeks we've had to assure our little guy that his room is safe, is closet is full of clothes and toys rather than monsters, and that sounds of the wind are okay. As easy at is it to try to assure our children that these outside things are not real, the feelings are real and the imagination is the land of superheroes, so we have to respond to our children's realities. As a result of these new fears, we've created some superhero powers of our own around here. For instance, monsters laugh and thereby lose their powers when they smell toothpaste. We made our own dream catchers to keep away bad dreams, and we know that around 6 AM, we'll have a superhero crawling in bed for superhero snuggling. I think my favorite adaptation is a new lullaby: Good night, Superheroes.

Perhaps Uncle Ben's advice to Spiderman (With great power comes great responsibility.) is a note to parents as well in that with children's awareness and yearning for power, we can respond to their interests in a manner that allows them to experience the power of making decisions and participating more in the actions of everyday life. At the same time, we can respond to their fears by helping them to see how we can use our own collective powers to bring about a new sense of safety. KA-POW!

Cutting the Power Supply

With young children (Parents will define this as any age in which their children challenge them in new, creative, and at times frustrating ways.) the term "power struggle" is used profusely and accepted as part of the terrain of parenthood. In my own effort to conservative natural resources, such as my own personal energy, I have decided to make a conscientious effort to reduce my use of power. 

My decision to go green in parenting stems from an awareness that my own efforts to increase, minimize, or redirect behaviors by way of amping up my own exertion of power, does very little to create a sustainable relationship with my children, nor does it actually lead to the outcome I envisioned. My conservation efforts are due to the realization that if I maintain a clear connection to what is really necessary, I can not only choose my battles, I can learn and grow from them. For instance, it is necessary to take a bath. It is not necessary for the clothes to come off in order to get started. I found that finding a compromise (Okay, wear your clothes, but you're still taking a bath.) is all in the eye of the bather. Everyone likes a choice, but choice is not possible (or optimal) in all situations. You will have milk with dinner: this is a given. Would you like a blue cup or a yellow cup? Yes, it's bedtime. Of course pajamas do not have to match. Would you like your striped shirt or your polka-dot shirt? My current favorite conservation of energy act is the dinner situation. If you don't want what we've prepared and presented, you know where to find the cereal--and the dishwasher, for that matter.

This energy act does not mean that power is not necessary. On the contrary. Keeping children safe requires clear boundaries. This is so evident anytime a child enters a new environment, such as a hotel room. What's the first thing they do? They explore (actively or through observation) to see what is there, where are the rooms, the nooks, the walls? This exploration is one for safety. Boundaries keep us safe. Children will look to others and to the environment for clear evidence that their needs are going to be met. If we constantly use terms such as, "no, don't, stop, can't, shouldn't, won't," we are putting up so many boundaries that children lose track of the really important barriers--the ones that are truly necessary for safety. If we can redirect our efforts to the places that matter the most, and if we can allow the natural inner resources of our children's own decision-making to off-set our efforts, perhaps we'll find ourselves, once again, in a sustainable relationship. 

Making Dynamics Dynamic

Often, it seems that the roles we played in our first social setting, our family, are anything but dynamic--even with time. I imagine we could all take part in a family dynamic "Mad Libs" in which we fill in the blanks, "In my family, I was always the one who_____" or "Everyone expects me to _____, because that's what I did as a child." My favorite type of family story is the kind that begins, "As a child, you always used to..." This usually is followed by a statement of expectation based on what happened in childhood, or, it follows with a twist, "So it's just amazing to me that you could grow up to..."

For the sake of our children's journey into adulthood, it is crucial to encourage an awareness of the qualities, interests, and dynamic roles that help to shape self perception. Someone very dear to me grew up hearing a story about a penchant for playing in the dirt, taking things apart, and finding interest in studies outside of the studies others imposed. As an adult, this person continues to investigate, to find meaning in authentic problem solving, and has a genuine sense of purpose in work and play. It goes without saying; however, that in the context of the often static family dynamics, the awareness of adulthood is stifled as the reflections in the eyes of others cannot see the complete picture, a dynamic person.

 

The problem with family dynamics is that, all too often, they are anything but dynamic. It makes sense, psychologically, that at the earliest stages of our emerging self identity we refer to reflections from the most intimate of environments, our family. Our earliest images of our selves are the ones others held in front of us. For some, these images are one of strong, positive qualities--the characteristics valued in our society. For others, images are plagued with insecurities and negative associations. As we grow and mature, the reflections and those holding the mirrors evolve, and hopefully, we develop an inner reflection through which we base our self images. 

The search for self and identity is at the heart of many psychological, educational, philosophical and theological (just to get started) conversations; however, in our lives, it's likely that we all feel that familiar, familial rub to behave and react in ways that meet our earliest reflections (i.e., what others expect to see). Based on the prompts above, try to imagine what children (as adults) might say as they reflect on their current family dynamics. In my own life, I can see how certain trends might be starting to creep into the mirror. 

Currently, I am on a quest to actively seek out opportunities to challenge static images that may be taking shape with children in my life. For a child who is consistently placed in a role of being responsible and serious, I'll try to create extra allowances for playfulness. For a child who tends to be cautious, I'll try to see (and reflect) moments for being adventurous.  For a child who feels power (coming from others) but does not have the chance to exert it, I will try to create moments of choice and, I'll highlight positive consequences. For a child who tends to explore broadly, rather than study finite detail, I'll make the effort to help the child recognize intense investigations.  Ultimately, the goal is to keep the dynamics moving forward in the direction of a positive and dynamic perception of self.  

Courage, Hawaiian Penguin Style.

Today my child had the opportunity of a lifetime. She could swim with fish and live life (for a few minutes, anyway) as an insider in an underwater aquarium. Snorkel? Check! Rashguard? Check! Interest? Abosultely! Ready? No way. Too scary, not ready, strange scratch on knee, and water a tad too cold. My reaction? "Really? We're here! This is the time! You can do this! You'll be so bummed if you don't!" Her reaction? Tears.

Self-check. What is this all about? Hmm. Aha! I was afraid to try new things therefore, my children must have courage to go forward where I would have stayed behind. Not fair.

Let's start over. "Look at Mommy in crazy flippers flapping all over the beach like a wobbly penguin! See Mommy wearing a mask and snorkel? See Mommy gasping for air but waving with a smile?" Whew. I"ll be honest with you, Kiddos, that was a little scary at first, but I'm glad I did it.

Big laughs, big smiles, and a tentative plan to try again (all of us) tomorrow.

*Vacation blogs do not require complete sentences.

Science with a Side of Green Beans

I have heard legends of young children sitting down to dinner with their family and eating a well-balanced meal during one sitting. I'm convinced these are tales of lore; but I dare to wonder if they exist and whether they could possibly compete with the exciting adventure of mealtimes in my home. Complete with dynamic displays of chemistry, physics, and biology, mealtime in our home is science at its best. 

I've noted before that the flow of parenting and learning with our children seems much smoother when we at least acknowledge the rapids of development in motion. As long as we try several things and "make a bed of healthy food in our tummies" we're okay with a little experimentation. From the lab of our dining room, we've made numerous discoveries:

*Vegan chicken patties taste great when dunked in milk.

*Ketchup is good on anything (Amelia Bedelia was spot on about that!).

*Bread floating in water looks really interesting.

*There is no such thing as too much Parmesean cheese. 

*Sippy cups do not foster creative scientific thinking, especially for experiments in buoyancy.

*Pork chops in apple juice is a delicious warm-weather soup.

*Banana bread mixed in hot cocoa is a delicious cold-weather soup.

*If you taste an experiment, you are a scientist too.

*If you make an experiment and consume a healthy quantity of it, you can essentially drink your meal and chew your drink. 

*The longer we experiment, the longer we stay at the table as a family.

*As long as it's eventually consumed (in liquid, solid, or gaseous form), it's a meal.

Although there are countless books for parents about how to get our children to eat healthfully, there is not a developmental theory out there that designates a single, prescriptive method that is appropriate for all children. There is, however, evidence that positive social interactions during mealtimes can promote relaxation, social connection, and digestion. Although my table often resembles a lab experiment in action, I feel confident defending our choices as science in the name of connection and digestion!

Barbie Blunder

As teachers of young children, it is an interesting moment when our children see us out of the classroom context. I can recall the look of surprise and confusion on my students' faces when they found me in the aisles of the grocery store and made the unbelievable discovery that I existed outside of the school. Young children are egocentric in the sense that they view the world from their perspective and understanding. It is difficult to consider events and situations from alternative perspectives, and children's understandings reflect beliefs about how the world works. Teachers, in the example above, live and breathe in schools, of course. Upon talking, playing, and interacting with children, we have the opportunity to see and hear their understandings. In these moments we also have the opportunity to build on children's understandings in new and meaningful ways. This morning I had the "opportunity" to build on my child's new understanding that sometimes grown-ups are completely wrong. 

What started off as a sincere effort to protect my child from anticipated frustration at school, turned into a great example of my own limitations in perspective. 

My daughter decided to bring a toy doll to school. At home, this doll enjoys riding in a purple van and exchanging clothes with several Barbie dolls (dating back to my own childhood). (On that note, I think my children will forever associate Barbie dolls with detached heads and limbs as most of our 30 year-old dolls are frequently visiting the toy hospital for minor and major adjustments.) This particular doll is not a Barbie, in the Mattel sense; however, we call it a Barbie. When my daughter announced her plans to bring the "Barbie" to school,  I made the erroneous parental leap to the moment when a child would point out to her and all her classmates that this was an impostor. To "save" her from this moment, I pointed out that this was not really a Barbie. In my effort to protect her feelings, I think I may have simply cut to the front of the line. 

Following my ousting of the non-Barbie, I awkwardly tried to gather the tears and smooth away the mess I had instigated. I explained to my daughter that I had said the wrong thing: I had made a mistake. I tried to share my own experience with knock-off Strawberry Shortcake dolls and the feelings I had when a neighborhood "friend" pointed that out to me. In that moment, I realized I was the egocentric one, and I framed my daughter's experience squarely in my own reflection. Sometimes, grown-ups make mistakes. Mommy said the wrong thing, and I'm sorry. There was that grocery-store gaze again! 

How refreshing to connect with my daughter in this way--by letting her know that I was wrong, we were able to start a new conversation from a place of joint-perspective. 

Self-Actualization Drive-Through

We're in a recession. The dismal state of our economy is on every one's mind, and I'm in line at the Starbucks drive-through. Why is it that this is the part of my personal spending that I can't spare to change? I'm searching for a theoretical basis for my obsession, and all I can come up with is a nod to Maslow's hierarchy and the human motivation for self-actualization and transformation. Admittedly, I'm on the low rungs of this ladder when it comes to my caffeinated craving. Spoken as one word, my ventisoymisto is what gets my work day started. It helps ease into a rainy afternoon at home, and it swings me through a great afternoon with my family. It meets a basic need for nourishment (those benefits of tea keep stacking up) and warmth, but it also provides 16 ounces of the "me time" busy mothers are constantly encouraged to find. Self actualization and personal transcendence requires time. Where is that time? It's in the cup. I'm trying to save the world by remembering to bring my own travel mug, but I really think that saving the world begins with saving my sanity and that begins with the ventisoymisto.

I've realized this search for self sanity in a cup is a quest shared by other moms (working in and out of the home). Gone are the days of expressing concern over a child home with the sniffles by bringing over homemade chicken soup (unless it's a free-range, humanely treated chicken). These are the days to support the ill child by supporting the mother with a latte and a hug. It's a cup full of "I understand it's a long day, and here's a chance to fill up on love and patience to bestow upon your child" message. 

This blog can't be entirely about development and learning, it has to include a shot of humor from time to time.