I always thought "Serendipity" would be a good name for a girl. "Seren" as a nickname. And then I remembered Seren Gas. And that's not good.
Anyhow. The past week has tended toward the serendipitous for us. Last week, I was strollering toward a further-away playground, intent on meeting up with our playgroup, when Ari spied his neighborhood playground along the way and made sure I knew that he wanted to play there instead. Fair enough. A swing is a swing is a swing, right? You pick your battles. An hour later, I left with a babysitter. Well, I didn't bring the babysitter home in my pocket but she is currently booked for Sascha's birthday next week. Cha-ching. First night out in San Diego. I think I'll even wear eye-liner.
Today, I decided to chuck all Wednesday sensibility to the wind and meet up with some buddies at a beach
before going to our Gymboree class at noon. (All you non-moms are thinking, "What the hell? Do you even have a life?" Answer: No. Not really.) It was a little messy. It was a little chilly. And it was a close-call making it to Gymboree on time, covered in a fine layer of sand. However, I met a mom on the beach there who is, also, parenting a "spirited" child. We talked for an hour.
I've been reading this book "Raising Your Spirited Child" by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka. I told my mom this and she laughed.
"Is that what they're calling it these days?" she asked. Apparently, my brother was of the "spirited" persuasion as a youngster.
Strong willed, difficult, stubborn and other negative, Dobson-esque terms is how these kids (including my son) have been labeled. But, let me tell you, it's not often that I nod constantly while reading. I feel that we have been understood. I've found "my peeps".
The way Kurcinka puts it, these kids are normal, they're just "more". More energetic, intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent, selective, enthusiastic, curious, tenderhearted, dramatic, passionate. These are fantastic qualities in adults. But in children, it raises red-flags and eyebrows all around ("I can't believe she can't control that child." Well, bite me, bitch.)
Now, Sascha and I often do call Ari "difficult"...but I don't take it well if anyone else calls him that. So, finding this book and seeing that these terms can be turned around, looking at the positive side, was enlightening...and helpful. The author even goes so far as to say that raising these children can be even more rewarding than raising the "non-spirited". I haven't gotten to that chapter yet. Will let you know if I agree with her.
My little man, who is currently playing with his Dad in the driveway - no doubt pushing a broom around with a big grin, chooses his own spirited path. He's quietly spirited. Intense; tenderhearted (which I heard today is a Virgo trait); dramatic (high and low extremes, tantrums); sensitive (he'll disintegrate into tears when a child yells, all the while trying to hold it together and be brave); very absorbed and goal-oriented in his play; persistent and definite in what he wants. Physical pain barely seems to touch him, yet he'll fall apart if you raise your voice. He's been this way since birth. Shot out of the womb (well, crawled, if you're timing it) with his little personality solidly intact.
I share all of this about my little boy because I know how alone I felt in thinking I had done something wrong, was raising him wrong, maybe drank too much coffee while pregnant...that's why he frequently seemed so...in-complacent. It seemed everyone else's kid was so much more easy going. (And, funny thing, people will frequently ask me if Ari's as quiet and sweet as he seems on the playground. They usually receive a blank look from me in response.) Well, it is what it is...that's one thing I've learned so far in life. And I have to let him be him. His intense behavior is not a reflection upon me. It's part of his learning to be in this world. And know what? When I accepted this fact and just let Ari be Ari, with all of the whining, drama and laughter that it entailed...he chilled out. Because I chilled out. Well, he chilled a little...let's not get crazy here. We still have our "days", but we've been handling them with a little more finesse and laughter than we used to.
Another source that slapped me upside the head was this quote by Donna Partow, found in a book by Julie Ann Barnhill
..."God did not give you your son so you could 'fix' him or whip him into shape. God gave you your son to make you
more like Jesus." Whatever your personal beliefs, take from it what you will. Bottom line: this isn't a grad school thesis, all on you to "get it right". This is hard core soul growth, in your face. How much can you grow to give compassion, direction, boundaries and unending love to another human being? How much can your life twist in order to accommodate this challenge? Answer: as much as possible. Some lives have to twist more, some less. But we all have to allow our soul to open up and change in some way. That's parenting. That's life...if you're brave enough to live it.
And so, this woman and I shared stories today while we played in the sand. Our stories were reassuringly similar and I left the beach feeling better. I left feeling connected.
Attack!
