The Knowledge of a Child

Everyone Can Learn from My Daughter

Patience

It is a Sunday morning, not out of the ordinary, and my daughter Emma has decided that she would like to help me clean. Our house is very warm, so she wears only her panties and a loose camisole. I envy her for her cleaning attire. We begin the cleaning process in her bathroom. As I begin to spray the shower with cleaning product she insists that “I do self.” So, I let her even though I know I will have to add more cleaning product.
Our attention is then shifted to the bathroom sink that is covered in dried soap suds from the previous hand wash. Once again she sprays cleaning product and begins to wipe the inside of the sink with her wadded up piece of paper towel. I try to help her but she insists that “I do self.” So, I let her even though I know I will have to re-clean the sink.
She then heads to the toilet. I watch as she dumps toilet bowl cleaner into the bowl and all over the seat. At this point I become insistent on helping her. Once again she insists that “I do self.” I take a deep breath and with a stern voice I ask to help her. She lightly rubs my arm and says “mama, it’s ok, I do self.”


Forgiveness

It seems like some days I spend the majority of my time chasing after Emma. Unfortunately, it is not in a playful way and it ends with a few swats on the bottom or multiple times in the time-out chair. It usually comes from her doing things that I repeatedly ask her not to do. But sometimes it just comes from my lack of patience with her constant need to make a mess or get into things.
Sometimes I wonder what I must sound like to a two-year old. “Emma, don’t do that,” or “Emma, why are you making a mess.” I know I am interrupting multiple moments of growth and exploration as I stand over her and point my finger at all of the things that I think she is doing wrong.
Today, like the past five days, I attempted to stop her from climbing out of the rungs in the fence. “Emma if you climb through that fence one more time, you are spending the rest of the day inside.” She stretched her leg and contorted her body in order to fit through the rungs. She turned and looked at me knowing and understanding exactly what was going to happen.
I grabbed her by the arm and swatted her butt as I marched her to time-out. Her big blue eyes filled with tears as she pushed her red hair out of her view. She reached for my hand and pulled me down to her level. Her tiny arms wrapped around my neck as she whispered between sobs, “mama, hugs.”

It’s OK to Cry
Emma is almost two and a half, which is quite different from two and very different from three, and she cries daily. She cries when she gets hurt, when she is sad, tired, frustrated, doesn’t get her way, and sometimes just because she feels like it. I appreciate the fact that she can just let loose at the drop of a dime. It really doesn’t matter the occasion, where we may happen to be, or who we are presently around- if she feels like crying she does just that.
She has taken to the liking of self expression. She now realizes that there are many different forms of crying and each will bring a different reaction from the poor patron who must encounter the yelp. There is the loud cry of agony when she drops the book on her big toe or the soft whimper when her head is ready to hit the pillow. We must not forget the scream intermingled with the word “no” when she is not getting her way or the sniffling as she tugs at my pant leg wanting to be held. There is also the one that drops her to her knees as she pounds her fists into the ground in pure distress releasing the day’s bottled up energy.
Although all of these cries have become our daily rituals, the cry I truly appreciate the most is the one she does just because she can. It is amazing that at two and a half she understands how to manipulate her emotions in such a way that she can produce tears just because she feels like it. Nothing physically, or emotionally that I am aware of, has to occur for big crocodile tears to stream down her cheeks as she lets out a repetitious grunt from deep in her chest. It is a dramatic combination of a yelp and a whimper and usually lasts less than thirty seconds. But for as long as it does last, it demonstrates her power to control the emotions that we all yearn to release as adults.