TRUST THE CHILDREN--THEY HAVE THE ANSWERS

I know that I’m stating the obvious when I say that we’re living in complicated times. Actually, I can take that a step further—we’re living in impossible times. Over the last six or seven years, we’ve experienced a world that I never would have imagined outside of a futuristic movie. And not in a good way. Conflict is everywhere. Use of language has changed, with many prohibited words and phrases. Our society is divisive and polarized. When questions are posed, answers are scrutinized. There really is no neutral. How do we find ways of conducting our lives in a way that make sense? I’ve often felt that there is no answer to that question. Then I think about children. Often, they have innocent viewpoints that make more sense than what we find in this strange new world. 

Thinking back many years, I remember times when Howard and I fell into complicated situations, and Cory and Tracy were able to come up with simple solutions. Like the time when we took them to buy Tracy’s first bed. She was three; Cory was six. We were on the lower level of John Wanamaker’s, the local department store. After we bought the bed, we started to go up on the escalator. Cory and Howard went first. I held Tracy’s hand to go next. Before I knew it, I was on the escalator step, and Tracy had pulled her hand away and stood there, still at basement level, watching as the rest of us ascended. I can still remember my thinking. Mainly—“Oh, no, what can I do?!” I tried to be calm. I called down to her not to move, thinking that Howard and Cory could talk to her as they went up on the escalator, while I would run up those steps, dart around to the other side, descend and pull her to safety. Before I could implement any plan, Cory, without hesitation, simply ran down the UP escalator, grabbed Tracy and pulled her safely onto it. Howard and I, the adults here, couldn’t think fast enough. My plan was too complicated. But our six year old quickly found a simple solution.

Tracy had the same quick and simple logic as her brother. When the kids were growing up, Howard’s parents lived in San Diego. We’d go to see them, trying to combine family time and vacation time. One morning, we went out to breakfast and then to my in-laws’ house. Howard’s mother felt an intense need to feed us. And so the argument. Howard’s mother, up in arms, upset that we went out to breakfast. Howard and I taking our position that we needed a little space. Lots of agita. In a momentary lull in the din, Tracy looked up and made a short and quiet observation. “It’s silly to fight about breakfast.” The uproar stopped. 

Avery is seven and Emilia is two and a half. Their problem solving is just as good as Cory’s and Tracy’s had been. I’ve written about the special Avery/Nana bedtime. Often, it does get a bit long. That’s okay with Avery and me, but Tracy is downstairs, stewing and worried that if we take too long, Avery will lose sleep time and be cranky the next day. So she sends Howard upstairs to get me. One night, I realized that we were even a bit more overtime than usual. I said “We’d better wrap up or Mommy’s going to go bonkers and send Grandpa to get me.” Very quickly, Avery shot me a look and said “You’re her mommy; you can give her a time out.” Potential problem; simple solution.

Making sure that feelings aren’t hurt is an Avery specialty. She’s attuned and quick. One day, she was showing me something she’d learned from a book. The book had said that if you pinch young skin, it bounces back; older skin doesn’t bounce back in the same way. She showed me. She pinched her hand and of course, the skin bounced right back. She pinched my hand. Uh Oh! The skin took it’s good old time to crawl back. (Needless to say, it didn’t bounce.) Avery decided to double check. “Let me see your hair.” She took a long look, playing with the hair, down to the roots. “No, you don’t have grey hair.” (I don’t—it’s genetic.) She concluded that without grey hair, obviously I couldn’t be too old. Her quick answer to the skin test—“Maybe the book’s wrong.” Don’t blindly follow; make your own assessment.

Even little Emilia can think beyond her needs. Howard and I were playing with her on the sofa one morning. Emilia knows that my back often hurts. There was a massage belt on the other side of the room. Before we started our Lego time, Emilia ran across the room and dragged the belt over to the sofa. Little girl; large belt. She looked at me and said “Just in case.” Always be prepared and be kind—simple solution from the perspective of a two year old.

In a world that’s lost connection to the world of yesterday, I worry about how bad things will get as time goes by. The last time Avery visited, Howard and I were talking about what will survive. I said something about the concern that the good and special things that exist in our current generation will be lost. Avery chimed in. Her response—things change from generation to generation, but they will still continue. She went on to explain that there will be small changes in the next generation, and more small changes with each generation after, down the line of generations. But even with small changes, things can and will survive. I have no idea what created that level of understanding, but her words are worth taking seriously. Maybe her generation will take what’s good, discard what isn’t good, and ensure the existence of a world that will survive with civility.

WHEN THE WORLD SEEMS TO BE FALLING APART, LOOK TOWARDS THE CHILDREN. IN THEIR INNOCENCE, THEY HAVE AN ACUITY THAT CAN GUIDE US TO THE BETTER SOLUTIONS