Month: July 2012

Emptying Our Minds in Order to Be More Present With Babies

This was a good reminder for me. It’s hard to be present and responsive and enjoy what’s right in front of us if our mind is full of thoughts and worries about other things. I wish I knew who to credit for this drawing, but I don’t. I found it on facebook, and tried to trace it to its origins, and while it appears in many places on the web, it’s always without attribution.

If I could draw even simple stick figures, I’d replicate it, but I’d depict an adult and a child walking together. I think small children are naturals when it comes to being fully present and engaged in the moment. This picture also reminds me of the importance and healing quality of spending time in nature, which can help to quiet our minds. I had the opportunity to experiment with quieting my mind and awakening my senses to all that was around me just two weeks ago during a hiking trip into the wilds of Big Sur. Each morning before beginning our hike, our leader would help to set a tone and focus our attention by reading a selected poem, and inviting us to join in a simple ritual of “bowing in”, after which we’d spend the first leg of our hike walking in silence.

 

When I studied with Magda Gerber, she often talked about the importance of the quality of attention adults brought to interactions with children. She stressed the necessity of slowing down, and really focusing, and bringing our full attention to the child.

In her post Magda Gerber’s Gift To Grown Ups, Janet Lansbury writes about two kinds of quality time we can spend with babies and toddlers:

“One of the gifts that I am most grateful for is Magda Gerber’s description of two types of ‘quality time.’ The first kind: “wants something” quality time is when we have a task to do with a baby like diapering, feeding, bathing, or clipping his toenails, and we challenge ourselves to slow down,  ignoring our instinct to zip through it as quickly as possible. We try to focus on the experience, talking the baby through each step, asking for cooperation, sometimes dealing with resistance. It suddenly occurs to us, “What’s the rush? Is there anything more important than this time together right now? Why are these moments with a child any less important than his ‘play time’?” The child looks into our eyes as if to ask us what will happen next, and we realize that we are indeed having an intimate moment together.

The second kind of quality time, “wants nothing,” can encompass a wide range of experiences, but all we are asked to do is pay attention and have no agenda of our own. It can mean being quietly available as a baby explores patterns of light on a blanket beneath him, or standing nearby while he has a screaming meltdown because he cannot have another cookie. It may be trickier to see the benefit for parents and caregivers in this latter scenario, but it is clarity. When we pay full attention to our child for intervals each day, no matter what the tone of our exchange or the outcome is, we are giving him the quality time he needs. We are doing our job.”

Magda taught an exercise that I find helpful to this day in achieving this quiet, present state of mind. She suggested that before entering a parent/infant class, or before beginning a care giving task with babies, adults should take a moment to consciously slow down, and empty the contents of their minds into a basket (real or imaginary). Imagine depositing all of your worries, your lists of things that need to be done, your thoughts about what to make for dinner, into that basket, and saying to yourself, “I am leaving you here now, but I promise I’ll be back to pick you up soon.” It’s such a simple thing to do, but for me, has been very powerful.

Do you have a favorite way to bring yourself more fully into the present moment? Do you notice a difference in the way your baby or toddler responds when you are able to be more slow and focused in your interactions?

“Because I’m a Little Boy”

 

“What day is it?” asked Pooh.
“It’s today,” squeaked Piglet.
“My favorite day,” said Pooh.
― A.A. Milne

It’s summer time, and our routines and schedules are different. The week before last, we were all on vacation. One day last week (the day his sister usually gets out of school early during the school year), in the car on the way home from preschool, three year old J. asked me if  it was “early day'” and if we’d be going to pick up his sister from school before his nap, and I reminded him that she was at camp, and we would go and pick her up after he had had his nap. I could tell he was tired and fighting sleep. He asked to listen to his favorite music CD, “Boogie Oogie” (the same one he asks to listen to every single day on the way home from school), and so I turned it on, and we drove in silence for a few minutes, and then he asked me again if we were going to pick up his sister, and I repeated the answer I’d given him a few minutes before. We arrived home, and as I went to unbuckle his car seat, he asked me, “Why we didn’t go get S. first?” I said, “J., do you remember what I just told you?” He shook his head, and I wondered aloud, “Why don’t you remember?” He hesitated, and then answered, “Because I’m a little boy.” I hugged him and reminded him for the third time what our plans were for the day.

It was a simple conversation, but I have been thinking about J.’s response to my question ever since. It is something so obvious, but it can be so easy for us adults to forget. Young children have a different understanding of time than we do. Sometimes, after J. wakes from his afternoon nap and he is telling me about something that happened earlier in the day, he will say, “Yesterday…”. Young children also sometimes take a longer time to process incoming verbal information, especially if they are tired or distracted, or if there is other noise in the environment (like a radio playing). Finally, changes in rhythms and routines that seem like no big deal to us, can be confusing for young children. And generally, the younger the child, the more true all of these things are, which is why it may sometimes seem like children aren’t listening, when really, they aren’t understanding, which can lead to mis-communication and melt downs (on the part of both children and adults).

“What do you say, Pooh?” Pooh opened his eyes with a jerk and said, “Extremely.” “Extremely what?” asked Rabbit. “What you were saying,” said Pooh. “Undoubtably.” – A.A. Milne- The House At Pooh Corner 

I think if our children could, they might say something like this to us: “Because I’m a little boy, I need you to understand, and to be patient with me. Because I’m a little boy, I need you to slow down, and go at my pace. Because I’m a little boy, I may need you to repeat a request or an answer to a question a number of times, or find another way to say it. Because I’m a little boy, I count on you to communicate with me in ways I can understand. Because I’m a little boy, it’s easier for me to listen and understand if there is no music playing or other distractions like TV, toys, or cell phones, and it helps me if you can get down to my level and  make eye contact when you are talking with me. Because I’m a little boy, I rely on consistent daily routines so I can know what to expect, and how to participate, and so I can make sense of my world. Because I’m a little boy, I need you to help guide me, in a world that is still so new, and sometimes confusing to me.”

 

One of our favorite books to share together: Little Boy by Allison McGhee. “The simple playthings, the everyday moments, picking up that hundredth rock — all of these are brimming with possibility…if you slow down and let the future begin with the small moments of today. Because everything depends on letting a little boy…be a little boy.”