Remember my post from about 3 weeks ago titled Time flies. Or does it? ? I have finally gotten the hang of it! I have officially completed a week and a half of not yelling at Ka (most of the time) or fighting with her or punishing her (although, to me, it feels like a lifetime). Hey! That’s a good record. In fact, I would say that’s an excellent record. Especially for someone who has been spending all day everyday for the past 2 months (and has one more month to go) with a 5 year old who has enough energy to power the sun for another billion or so years but has nowhere to release all that energy except on her mother, who, in this case, happens to be ME!!! In the light of this latest update on the energy scenario in this household, wouldn’t you agree that ‘most-of-the-time’ is indeed an excellent record? And here’s some food for thought…I don’t get the whole drama about finding an alternate source of energy! With these many kids around, why don’t we just put their energy to some use and get done with it? Seriously! We could start a ‘Save the Mothers!‘ project which will in turn solve the energy crisis.
Now, getting back to the point, the once or twice when I did yell at little Ka, I was either having a lousy day or had just woken up feeling crappy. And on those days, I made sure I sat her down and explained to her that it wasn’t her fault. That sometimes, just like her, I woke up feeling sad, mad and bad for no reason. I went on and on and on, rambling away to glory. And then, magic happened! That little (or maybe not-so-little) chat…it was priceless. Coz, the minute I was done yakking, I felt all better. Just like that. One minute I was full of sad, mad and bad and the next minute, sad had vaporised into thin air, mad had tucked his tail and scurried away (what a chicken!) and bad had turned suicidal and jumped off the 32nd floor balcony. Needless to say, I spent quite some time wondering why and how this worked and now I see it. When I was sitting there pouring my heart out, Ka did not say a word. She was all ears and then at the end of my not-so-short speech, she gave me a ‘crush-hug’, planted the biggest and sweetest kiss on my cheek, promised to help me with the chores for the rest of the day, told me not to worry about anything and assured me that everything will be fine. It’s magical how much of a difference a pair of someone else’s zipped lips and someone else’s un-plugged ears can make in one’s life (a rare commodity these days…).
But, I digress. The point is, I have realised over the past couple of weeks that (in most cases) we yell at our kids because it is just easier to do so. It takes a lot more of everything (energy, patience, self-control, time, maturity, empathy, composure and whatever else you can bring to the table) to not lose it. We don’t have and/or don’t want to spend the time it takes to deal with these pocket-sized hyper-active little creatures. We don’t spend enough time with them. We don’t pay enough attention to them. We don’t know them well enough. We expect too much out of them. We give them too little. Most of the time, a little chat, a hug, a kiss, some ice cream and some silliness does the trick. And now that I see this clearly, I have figured out, all by myself (and boy! am I proud of myself!!!), the three golden rules to remember when dealing with kids:
- When in Rome, do as the Romans do
- Be the change you want to see in the world, and
- Husbands make excellent punchbags…