Lately, I've found myself constantly nagging San about something or the other. I feel restless and talk rude when she struggles to get into her clothes by herself real slow, when she wanders off to her wonderland and forgets what she'd been doing, when she mixes all colors of the play-doh and comes up with an ugly-looking lump, when she reveals her finicky-self at the dinner table, when she happily sings her Dora song and stays in that Doraland... I know I'm not letting her be, I hate it, but I can't help it.
Maybe, I see a reflection of myself in her. The way I was when I was young... the timid one, the slow one... the girl who always chose a quiet, dark corner to sit, the one who was super-choosy about her food, the one who always stayed in her wonderland cuz' she never understood the real one. I don't want San to be like that, like I was. I want her to be like those kids who scream their lungs out, who are aggressive, who get what they want from others without sharing their own, who are highly social, who eat whatever is edible, who have that great ability to turn the whole place upside down. Really? No. That is just a part of my momentary thoughtless thinking.
The other day, a kid hit San with his toy. She came to me and cried. She looked like a weakling who can never stand up to a bully. There isn't a big deal about this episode. It's a very common thing that happens when kids play... pushing, pulling, hitting... But it hit me more than it hit her. The Mommy me wanted her to defend herself and stand strong. And by that, I don't mean that she should've hit back, but just appeared and acted strong. Now roll your eyes and tell me, "Isn't that a bit too much to expect from a three-year old?" Yes, it is. But I'm unable to make the Mommy me understand this simple fact. Sigh!
Is it so difficult to let your kids be? No. All I need to do is switch off my overworked brain.
Maybe, I see a reflection of myself in her. The way I was when I was young... the timid one, the slow one... the girl who always chose a quiet, dark corner to sit, the one who was super-choosy about her food, the one who always stayed in her wonderland cuz' she never understood the real one. I don't want San to be like that, like I was. I want her to be like those kids who scream their lungs out, who are aggressive, who get what they want from others without sharing their own, who are highly social, who eat whatever is edible, who have that great ability to turn the whole place upside down. Really? No. That is just a part of my momentary thoughtless thinking.
The other day, a kid hit San with his toy. She came to me and cried. She looked like a weakling who can never stand up to a bully. There isn't a big deal about this episode. It's a very common thing that happens when kids play... pushing, pulling, hitting... But it hit me more than it hit her. The Mommy me wanted her to defend herself and stand strong. And by that, I don't mean that she should've hit back, but just appeared and acted strong. Now roll your eyes and tell me, "Isn't that a bit too much to expect from a three-year old?" Yes, it is. But I'm unable to make the Mommy me understand this simple fact. Sigh!
Is it so difficult to let your kids be? No. All I need to do is switch off my overworked brain.
