The Child Whisperer
Read the book, started with a lot of skepticism, but in the end, I liked it. (Can there be a better title for a book? I think not.) I made so many notes in the columns that I'm not really in the mood to write about it any more. Plus my head still hurts. So here's a lick and a promise. (Without the promise.)
The author divides people into four types, and gives traits, body energies and ways to support each type.
Things like this are useful for seeing that others are different, etc. But of course no one is exactly one type. We all have a mixture of all four types to one extent or another. My own personal theory is that the more of a mixture we are, the better we fit into society.
Her approach was to tailor our parenting to the child, but I think that as parents we also need to help the child to function in the world, with all different types, and to know that the world is not tailored to them.
The very best thing about this book was how positive her approach to parenting was. She helped me to see that I could better parent my children if I give them the benefit of the doubt, and assume that their motives are pure. I agreed with her that we could use the child's strengths to help them to obey and learn.
I was also able to see that the one of my children who sometimes struggles the most in our home is also the only one who was predominately a "Type 2". This book was a good choice for me, if only to help me see that.
I guess this was just like anything else, it had some good ideas and things to think about, but to go whole hog into her methods for me would be annoying. It's another good source of ideas for parenting. I asked Nellie L to read it, and we have had some good conversations about it.
I think the author went a bit too far when she claimed that children DO come with a hand book, and THIS is it.
The only One who really knows each of my children is the Lord, and I have to turn to Him for answers, methods and ideas.
So last Saturday, we woke up to a piñata in our front yard. Oh, Glorious Day! To some, it was nothing short of a miracle. To all, it was "For ME!"
Each child just knew it was for them. (In the honesty of full disclosure, I entertained thoughts along this line, also. Hey, I have friends! If a pair of fuzzy socks can magically appear in the mail from Korea, why not a piñata in my tree?)
Little K upped it a notch by claiming that, not only did it belong to HER, but it probably had a magic lamp inside it. (Anything is possible!)
Turns out, it was for Mr. Cool. He'd asked a girl to prom and she responded with a piñata. If nothing else, it clued us in on his plans. Some of my kids are more vocal than others.
This could get confusing, as I have code-named one of the Nellies, "Princess". That was done with great irony and some inside humor. I'm not writing about her today.
Today I am writing about the Caboose, who has decided that she is a Princess. She is, in her own words, "Not SILLY, not FUNNY, NOT CUTE." But she is a princess. A serious one.
(That is, of course, when she's not wearing her "Chuck E. Cheese" swim-suit in the off chance that someone will take her swimming.)
I've never had a "Princess" before, so I didn't realize how many clothes one could go through in just one day, looking for the perfect Princess Dress, Princess Shoes, Princess Socks and yes, even Princess Pull-Ups.
It was poofy, pink, frilly, and even had full spin capabilities.
Finding such a dress made it important for her to wear the dress for the rest of eternity. Especially at night. Without pajama pants. (Duh.)
This ain't my first rodeo, so I waited until she was asleep to apply said pajama pants.
This was a little confusing at first to her the next day when she finally realized what had happened, leading her to exclaim in exasperation, "When I grow up, I gonna be a Mama!" (Which I guess means that she will have ULTIMATE POWER.)
This declaration let me to ask how many babies, could I be the grandma and hold them, and then, who will be the daddy? This was a new thought for her.
I suggested the neighborhood boys she knew, her preschool buddies, and the big kids' friends. No dice.
"What about your Nursery friends?" I asked. (From church.)
"MO-OM," quite exasperated, " 'Em are BABIES!"
Final thought of the day:
I was down doing laundry, and suddenly NEEDED to hold my little Caboose. My arms physically ached and it was almost uncontrollable. This wasn't the first time I'd felt this way. Luckily, I've always had access to a baby when I've needed to hold one.
I prefer my own little snuggle-buggles; but really, any little person will do. It's almost like something is missing when I am not holding a baby. It didn't originate with motherhood. I don't remember a time when I didn't have that longing.
I doubt I'll ever shake this way of being. My version of Heaven is a good book, a soft chair and a sleeping baby in my arms.
p.s. I'm NOT wishing for another baby. That train left the station. I'd much rather have constant migraines. I'm just hoping that there will always be a baby to fill my arms.
p.s.s It may seem like I forgot to mention chocolate in my Heaven fantasy. It goes without saying.