Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Sea

I am struggling where to start with this entry, or where it is going, so I'll just begin . . .

I'm having vividly detailed visions of the sea recently. Not a calm, sunny day, breezy sea. More like a late evening, cloudy night, slightly drizzling sea that churns and froths. The moon is full but is almost completely covered by shapeless clouds, with only a faint glow of cloaked light cast on the beach.

I find myself a part of this scene in many places, sometimes standing on the beach, watching those close to me swim in the sea, struggling, doing their best to stay afloat. Other times I am that person in the sea, splashed by waves, bobbing with little control over my direction. Later, I sit upon a floating vessel, not so much a boat, but perhaps an inflatable raft or unstable surfboard. I ebb and flow with the waves, not really going anywhere, but in a constant state of motion.

All around me, at work, at home, on the phone, in conversations with others, I find I am surrounded by and a part of unease. As I support others who are floundering, I also fumble and falter. It's not one event, one person, one area of life. It's an indefinable sea that has no clear borders and edges. This lack of definition leaves me at a loss for words, unsure of what I need. My usual compulsion to talk and consult and vent is absent. Silence feels more comfortable right now.

But I feel buoyant and hopeful. In time the strokes I need will come naturally and fluently. The clouds will part, and I will once again regain my footing, will see clearly what to do, how to proceed. There is no storm brewing on the horizon. I only need to wait and be patient, take deep breaths and keep on moving.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Playing Nice: Addendum

A quick addendum to yesterday’s post:

Last night we went swimming again, and Carter found a little girl named Erika to play with. We went through the routine of Carter asking her name, and my telling him to ask her and tell her his name as well. Names were exchanged, and the rest of the night, she referred to him as Tater and he called her Kylie, and they both responded to each other as if those had been their names all along. Erika’s dad and I attempted to clarify with our children the other’s name, but it was unsuccessful, and really, it didn’t matter. Tater and Kylie got along just fine without us.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Playing Nice

We have discovered discounted Tuesday nights at the rec center, so I have been taking Carter swimming. It gives him a chance to get out and be active, and he and I get some quality time because Mark stays home with Cameron.

It's also a place where there are community toys, children, and lots of opportunities for turn-taking, sharing, and interacting. Carter just loves any kids that will play with him. He immediately begins referring to a playmate as "my friend", and then proceeds to initiate play in any way he can. He asks me questions like, "What's her name?" and I have to tell him to go ask, and to tell her his name too. Once he finds out what he's looking for, he always turns back and smiles at me, satisfied that he now has a name to call out.

Having a young child who is learning the rules of play and social interaction reminds me on a daily basis that although we are naturally social beings, we often need to be taught the conventions that our society has established to play nice. It's one of the countless lessons that falls on the list of parent responsibilities.

It's interesting to me that Carter is aware that there are social rules, but that he acknowledges he doesn't always know them. For example, he'll say to me, "I want her boat," but indicates he doesn't know what to do. I tell him that he could offer to trade toys, and he'll do so, once again proud that he was able to get what he wanted in such a successful way.

A side note on all of this is that the adults of these children learning social rules also have to come to a common understanding of what we are going to guide our children to do. For example, if Carter wants another child's toy, but the other child doesn't want to share, then we parents both have a call to make--do we tell Carter that's the other child's toy so he can't play with it, or do we tell the other child to share?

We parents have to quickly read each other's body language and discern who needs to intervene. There is no one right answer, but we parents, not even knowing each other, understand that we have to support the other in the decision made so our kids hear a consistent message.

It's not an easy thing to do, present this unspoken united front as unacquainted parents. It reminds me that Carter's not the only one learning and practicing the unwritten social rules we all live by. As a parent, I have to remember how to initiate contact with another person, come to common understandings, and play nice.