I had one of those moments tonight when I got it right.
It was way past bedtime, and my husband had not yet emerged from the preschooler’s room. I went in, preparing to take over and get the situation under control. But when I walked in, I saw my son curled tightly in a ball, scowling.
“I can’t play with my silly putty,” he whimpered.
I jumped in, ready to back my husband up, “Well honey, it’s really time to go to sleep…” I began.
“No, you don’t understand,” my husband interrupted. “I touched it so now he can’t play with it.”
OK. Can we we just take a moment to acknowledge the ridiculous drama that is a 3-year-old?
There are so many things I could have said. On others nights, I’m sure I have said: “Oh honey, don’t be ridiculous. Just play with the silly putty,” or “This is not a big deal,” or “Enough with the nonsense, go to sleep.”
But tonight, somebody infused me with a little extra grace, and I said instead, “You seem really sad about that buddy. I’m so sorry you’re sad.” I paused a beat. “I’d like to snuggle you unless you’re too sad for snuggles.”
After a moment of thoughtful consideration, he decided he was not too sad for snuggles. And within five minutes he had happily drifted off to sleep between my husband and me.
(Confession? Anytime I can snuggle my babies to sleep I do. I’m sure it’s not the best of habits to be in, but I just cannot seem to stop.)
But let’s back up for a minute here. “You seem really sad about that. I’m so sorry you’re sad. Can I snuggle you?” What more does anyone really want to hear when they’re hurting? It doesn’t matter if the thing they are hurting about seems small to us — they are still hurting. And I want my children to know that whenever they are hurting, I will be here.
And, of course, it’s important to help children start to learn that some things are bigger problems than others, that letting your fun be ruined by someone touching your silly putty is probably not the best way to live life. But in the meantime — while they are learning — real, honest empathy goes a long way.
