As I was making my rounds this morning I read this post by a dear friend of mine. I love it! She is such an example to me and I respect, and admire her so much. She reminded me of a post I've been drafting for some time now and I thought I'd finish it while I'm thinking about it.
For reasons mentioned in previous posts, I've thought a lot lately about Teryn's latest phase and how to be proactive and positive about it. I recognize that the biggest problem I have is my wanting to be in control of everything. I have plans, goals, and standards that I expect myself to meet and I no doubt expect the same of my son. That's unfair and I know it. I'm the first to admit that I'm still learning how to get down on a children's level and really understand what Teryn's thinking and feeling. Still learning how to really understand why he does the things he does. Being the youngest of seven children I was always surrounded by older, more mature children and adults. I was the one they had to figure out. I was the one they taught and disciplined. I lived 24 years before having to experience that for myself and 2 years later I'm still trying to figure it out.
For reasons mentioned in previous posts, I've thought a lot lately about Teryn's latest phase and how to be proactive and positive about it. I recognize that the biggest problem I have is my wanting to be in control of everything. I have plans, goals, and standards that I expect myself to meet and I no doubt expect the same of my son. That's unfair and I know it. I'm the first to admit that I'm still learning how to get down on a children's level and really understand what Teryn's thinking and feeling. Still learning how to really understand why he does the things he does. Being the youngest of seven children I was always surrounded by older, more mature children and adults. I was the one they had to figure out. I was the one they taught and disciplined. I lived 24 years before having to experience that for myself and 2 years later I'm still trying to figure it out.
Sometimes I get frustrated when Teryn does things I ask him not to do or when he cries for what seems like no reason at all, but my mind has been enlightened over the past few weeks and I'm making baby steps toward understanding.
Why does he do things I ask him not to do? Well, why does my husband sometimes leave his plate at the table after dinner when he knows I'd like him to put it in the sink? Or why does he sometimes throw his clothes on the floor when he knows I'd like him to put them in the laundry basket? He knows better, right?
But he's not the only one. Why do I sometimes neglect to pray, read the scriptures, or serve others? I know my Heavenly Father expects those things of me so what keeps me from doing them?
I'm not perfect, that's what. No one is perfect. We forget things. We make mistakes. Despite the fact I have good intentions and desire to always do what I'm supposed to do, the fact is, I don't. How can I expect my 2 year old son to always do everything he's asked if I fail to do the same?
Why does he cry for what seems like no reason at all? I realized the other day- -he doesn't. Ninety-seven percent of the time he is a happy, energetic, obedient boy. If he cries the other three percent of the time, there is probably a reason why. Just because I don't understand it doesn't mean his emotion isn't real. I have an experience that brought this concept to light.
As a missionary in South Korea I spent a significant amount of time teaching investigators about their relationship with our Heavenly Father. With Confucianism and Buddhism at the heart of Korean culture, the idea of God as our Heavenly Father was new to most. In order for them to experience that relationship we often taught investigators how to pray and we committed them to pray every day until our following meeting (usually the following week). Most investigators accepted the commitment but rarely did we return to find them successful in keeping it. When we asked why they didn't pray, the most common answer we received was, "It's hard." On one occasion, after one such response I had a companion who replied with, "No it's not! It's simple!" after which she retaught how to pray. We left the appointment and discussed what we thought about the lesson. I expressed that I didn't think it was fair for us to expect praying to be easy for our investigators. Most of them have never prayed in their life, how could we expect it not to be hard? I didn't think it was fair for us to discredit their emotions just because we felt differently. We agreed that we needed to listen to our investigators and really try to understand what they were feeling so we could know how to help them feel differently.
I think all people experience the same situation in many ways. Sally across the street is complaining about her aching back after shoveling snow off her driveway. But you shoveled just as much and it wasn't so bad- -buck up Sally! Or how about Helen who mentions how difficult it is for her to wake up for work at 7:00 every morning. But you wake up at 5:30 and you feel great- -what's Helen's problem?
It's all about sympathy isn't it? People talk about the importance of empathy when connecting with others, but the more I experience the more important sympathy seems to be. We could never expect to be able to empathize with every person we meet, but I think we can learn how to sympathize with all people if we try. That, to me, is where bonds begin. It's what builds trust, strengthens love, and deepens compassion.
I need to be better at that with Teryn. I need to step back and remember the things that matter to him are different than the things that matter to me. I don't understand what makes him frustrated or mad or sad a lot of the time, but his emotions are real and I need to try harder to understand them and sympathize with him. I love the way my friend put it:
"If we simply hush our kids and tell them "You are fine." "Its okay." or flat out ignore them aren't we only teaching them to squash their emotions?"
I don't want to teach Teryn, or any of my children, to squash his emotions. Rather, I hope and pray I can teach him how to recognize and work through them.
Why does he cry for what seems like no reason at all? I realized the other day- -he doesn't. Ninety-seven percent of the time he is a happy, energetic, obedient boy. If he cries the other three percent of the time, there is probably a reason why. Just because I don't understand it doesn't mean his emotion isn't real. I have an experience that brought this concept to light.
As a missionary in South Korea I spent a significant amount of time teaching investigators about their relationship with our Heavenly Father. With Confucianism and Buddhism at the heart of Korean culture, the idea of God as our Heavenly Father was new to most. In order for them to experience that relationship we often taught investigators how to pray and we committed them to pray every day until our following meeting (usually the following week). Most investigators accepted the commitment but rarely did we return to find them successful in keeping it. When we asked why they didn't pray, the most common answer we received was, "It's hard." On one occasion, after one such response I had a companion who replied with, "No it's not! It's simple!" after which she retaught how to pray. We left the appointment and discussed what we thought about the lesson. I expressed that I didn't think it was fair for us to expect praying to be easy for our investigators. Most of them have never prayed in their life, how could we expect it not to be hard? I didn't think it was fair for us to discredit their emotions just because we felt differently. We agreed that we needed to listen to our investigators and really try to understand what they were feeling so we could know how to help them feel differently.
I think all people experience the same situation in many ways. Sally across the street is complaining about her aching back after shoveling snow off her driveway. But you shoveled just as much and it wasn't so bad- -buck up Sally! Or how about Helen who mentions how difficult it is for her to wake up for work at 7:00 every morning. But you wake up at 5:30 and you feel great- -what's Helen's problem?
It's all about sympathy isn't it? People talk about the importance of empathy when connecting with others, but the more I experience the more important sympathy seems to be. We could never expect to be able to empathize with every person we meet, but I think we can learn how to sympathize with all people if we try. That, to me, is where bonds begin. It's what builds trust, strengthens love, and deepens compassion.
I need to be better at that with Teryn. I need to step back and remember the things that matter to him are different than the things that matter to me. I don't understand what makes him frustrated or mad or sad a lot of the time, but his emotions are real and I need to try harder to understand them and sympathize with him. I love the way my friend put it:
"If we simply hush our kids and tell them "You are fine." "Its okay." or flat out ignore them aren't we only teaching them to squash their emotions?"
I don't want to teach Teryn, or any of my children, to squash his emotions. Rather, I hope and pray I can teach him how to recognize and work through them.
Besides, it's natural for us to have emotions. Frustration, sadness, excitement, anticipation, happiness, anxiety, serenity. It's OK to feel emotion. Healthy even. It's about learning to control and channel them.
On that note, I'd like to add a thought about dealing with disappointment. It's a natural byproduct of the life we live, so at what point do we start learning how to deal with it?
Every mother knows the moment when something displeases her child. Maybe it's when they don't get a treat before dinner, or when mom pulls them away from the TV because it's time for them to play outside. They break down in insatiable tears when they don't get their way.
On that note, I'd like to add a thought about dealing with disappointment. It's a natural byproduct of the life we live, so at what point do we start learning how to deal with it?
Every mother knows the moment when something displeases her child. Maybe it's when they don't get a treat before dinner, or when mom pulls them away from the TV because it's time for them to play outside. They break down in insatiable tears when they don't get their way.
We deal with this frequently with Teryn. Tyson and I have decided that we need to let him experience the disappointment. Rather than trying to distract him, deter him, or substitute what he wants with something else, we want him to learn that life isn't always the way he wants it to be and it's OK.
Of all the emotions I hope he learns to handle, it's disappointment. I hope he grows stable and strong enough to accept when things don't go his way. I hope he comes home confident from school after being picked last for teams at recess. I hope he's secure enough to accept when his secret crush asks his best friend to the Sadie Hawkins dance. I hope he learns that no matter what happens in life, he can choose to be happy and make the most of his circumstances.
Imperfection. Sympathy. Trust. Love.
It makes sense to me.
I love it. I love all of it. I love what Tiff said (I read it too a couple days ago) and your additions on the subject. I love that even though we are so far away we can still be friends and support each other. I love that we all have kids the same ages and can help each other through the hard/tough times. Lets say it... 2 year olds are hard. May we all have patience and love and may the all the good stuff we do overcome our faults.
ReplyDeleteI loved this post...seriously so good! I think its easy to get convinced that if your child ever has a bad day or a bad habit or bad (____fill in the blank___) it must equate to being a bad parent and that just isn't true! Thanks for the inspiration and for the reminder that kids and parents aren't perfect. We are all just trying as hard as we can:)
ReplyDeleteLoved, loved, loved this post!! I needed the reminder. Thanks!!
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