The Power Of Shared Experiences
I parent my kids in may of the same ways my Dad parented me. However, there are many privileges I had as a child that he did not, so I experienced things he didn’t have first-hand experiences with. (Just like I didn’t understand his stories of waking up before school to milk the cows.) My childhood, while still quite different from the one my children are living (We had no air-conditioning growing up! Quit your whining, kids!), it’s was still very similar in many ways. Giving me a history I’ve found to be very useful in parenting because I think the most valuable lesson I’ve been able to teach my children is that I survived the dramas they are suffering.
It’s easy for kids to forget we were kids once. While logically they understand we were kids, unless we remind them with very detailed proof, it’s easy for them to forget.
Nikki came home from school yesterday with her first “I was teased!” story. I responded immediately with my own variations of the same story so that she would understand that I completely understood where she was coming from. I used to do the same thing with E, still can sometimes. When he talks about difficulties in school or struggles with juggling all of the things in his life, I let him know that I empathize completely and share my own stories.
It’s very easy for kids to fall back on the excuse, “Parents just don’t understand.” And many times, we don’t. Our kids are going through challenges in their lives we won’t understand, but I need to do my best to try. And if I do understand what’s making them upset because we have similar stories, telling those stories will not only prove I actually do understand, it will prove I survived.
Because – let’s face it – we all have those childhood instances that felt so tragic in scope that we honestly did NOT think we’d live to tell about it later. The heartbreaks, the failures, the embarrassments. We’ve been there. AND WE LIVED TO LAUGH ABOUT IT. (Except for that time I busted my butt walking with a guy I liked, I STILL CAN NOT LAUGH ABOUT THAT.)
So, I told her about the daycare I went to after school and every summer and how the kids there loved to pick on me because I was the weirdo Catholic girl who wore an ugly uniform to school every day. And then I had braces. And glasses. And some chub. And then came the ACNE…oh, man, I was like the lottery of bullying victims in that daycare.
It made her feel better, I could tell. Especially because it was sincere. It wasn’t just an “I understand…” that can sometimes sound empty. I had stories and real sadness to vouch for. I don’t know if my Dad every got picked on, because I never told him about my own troubles. I just assumed he wouldn’t understand. And often felt his cows were probably better company than some of my peers.
So I’m glad she told me. If this is the worse she experiences? She’ll be a lucky girl. But if it ever gets worse…hopefully she’ll come to be because she knows one thing for sure: I UNDERSTAND.
I admit I’m a tad concerned about the start of school coming up this year. Sage is so not into all that girly princess stuff her classmates are, I’m concerned she’s setting herself up to be sort of set apart from them. Hopefully her love of spiderman and dinosaurs and her taste for polo shirts and shorts over pink dresses won’t make a difference, but I don’t get the impression that 5-year-old princesses are the most kind, inclusive people on the planet.
I was curious about Nikki’s hairstyle. I have a 3 year old with long hair and I have been looking for style options other than ponytails. I thought her hair looked cute in this photo but I can’t tell exactly how it’s done.