Preschool Peer Pressure

Joseph got into the car with wide eyes and chattered to me about friends, teachers, and most importantly, Legos. I feel into an easy peace, as I listened to him contemplate all things electronic and as he told about the best machine that he had built that day. I heard many new names of children that he was eager to see again the next day, and heard about him taking a turn at being Library Leader. I started to ask questions about other things; the important details.

“So…what did you have for lunch today?”

“I don’t remember,” Joseph answered slowly.

“Did you have hamburgers?” I had seen a pile of hamburgers on a serving dish when I dropped him off earlier in the day and thought I’d be helpful and prompt him with this little hint.

“No. We had cheeseburgers.”

“Oh…and did you have anything else…like carrots?” I asked. I had seen those there also…

“Oh, yes, yes! But I didn’t have any,” Joseph said, his voice sounding flat.

“Huh? You didn’t have any? I thought you liked carrots.” A few days earlier, I had picked him up from preschool and he was a hungry little rabbit. Conveniently, I had brought baby carrots with me. He and Esther had even fought over them, when I handed one back to him and not to her.

“Well, none of the other kids had any, so I didn’t.”

“Oh…I see…” I drove on in a moment of silence.

We drove past some of the other schools that had just let out. I scanned the streets for kids, driving slowly through the neighborhoods. I thought about the implications of sending my children out into the world. There are so many influences that can shape a life.

One day, after having played at the park close to our house, the kids and I walked back home, me with Esther in the stroller and Joseph speeding ahead of us on his bike. We saw a neighbor on the way and stopped to talk with her. She talked about her granddaughters and the older one who attends kindergarten.

“A small part of her innocence leaves when she goes to school or when she goes out into the world,” the neighbor said, looking at my son, “He will soon go out into the world,” her voice trailed off and she ruffled his hair.

I first bonded with each of my children when they were in my womb, each movement inside was evidence of a tangible life that was nourished by me. I bonded at birth with each of them, fresh and wet from the water where they had grown and lived. I brought each one to the breast and sustained them; they drank eagerly as tiny fists curled and uncurled.

As I wean and encourage independence in Joseph and Esther each, I feel a twinge of sadness and I ache. These days slip by very quickly and l cannot quite grasp just how fast the time can go. So each day, I watch them and laugh and write down my own musings about them. I breathe in their scents when I hug them and feel fully their kisses upon my face. I allow them to take me to their secret places of childhood and am honored to be given admittance there. Innocence is still abundant in our home.

Some of my most important work is with my children and some of my most important lessons come from these wondrous beings. My children are gentle and do not know about deceit, revenge, hatred, or other things they may have to encounter in the world. My heart feels light and free when I watch them at play or at work. My children do not have guile and sincerely love everyone and more importantly, themselves. Smiles reign at home, more often than tears, and they find wonder in everything around us. I believe that when I look back on my days as a mother, that these are the days that I may miss most. These children are my dearest treasures and these beings radiate and exemplify pure light. There is something very special and sacred about them.

I am certain that my children will be subject to ridicule, criticism and many other uncomfortable things as they become more independent. But in our home, they will find comfort, love and teaching. It is here they will find refuge and it is here that they will learn to find good in the world. It is my hope that my children will walk with honor here and find great happiness in their deeds.

That day, after I picked up Joseph from preschool, I continued the conversation about the carrots. We arrived home, and as I turned off the car engine, I looked back and said to Joseph, “now, you know you can eat carrots even if the other kids don’t eat them. It’s okay for you to do that.”

“I know, mom.”

I continue my work with him...

Laughter Like Water

In the kitchen, the water was boiling and it was time to start the cooking. I stepped over to the counter, where my hands were working on auto-pilot. I picked up a box, ripped open the top and poured in the noodles. ‘One more box,’ I thought, ‘and this is it. We’ll be ready to go and I can cook the --’ The sound came upon me like a freight train. I spun around and stared as my son threw his body against the biggest toy dump truck I’ve ever seen! He came toward me at full-speed and gained on me faster and faster as he used his 5-year-old body to create as much momentum as possible…

He raced along on his truck, then quickly stopped…his head an inch from the oven door. Somehow, my legs moved well enough to take me out of his path, and kept me from being plowed into the oven. My admonishment speech came tumbling out in one long word, and he looked up at me and grinned in a very toothy way.

“Be careful with your head,” I said again. I tried to sound stern and in control of my faculties this time.

He carefully answered that he will make sure he doesn’t hurt his metal and reiterated to me about his newly-discovered robot identity. I had forgotten about that and the power of invincibility that a robot has. Oops! A mother shouldn’t forget a thing like that! I quickly nodded and then told him that I don’t want to see any dents in the nice, smooth metal on top of his robot head.

Our kids are not quiet kids and they have energy that would qualify them for many categories of the Olympics. It may earn them fame and money someday, but for now, we channel it. Their vocal capacities are also strengthened as they voice their opinions to us. Joseph is very specific and has very logical reasons for the things he wants to do. Esther is still a bit unintelligible, but we do understand that she is one who likes to do things her own way. We concede when we can and stop it when it goes beyond our boundaries. Their opinions will serve them well someday.

I especially love to hear my children interact…

During the day, I hear many things; prattling and talking, screaming and yelling. And, oftentimes, it all blurs together in a stream of music that at one moment carries a haunting tone throughout the house and in the next instant accelerates into a dramatic theme that warrants immediate investigation. I often reason to myself that it is good to hear such sound in the house. It proves that there is life here, and emotion. But there are the times when the music flows and ebbs throughout the day like water. And this water tinkles like bells, and I hear in it a gentle sighing in the wind. No matter what songs are played here, these are all treasured days.

In the hushed beginnings of sleep and dreams, I watch the children and marvel in the music they make and the silence that ensues before the next morning's great symphony.