Dear Mommy,

Once I found myself in a situation so conflicting that I no longer cared for my own happiness.  The most tempting decision to make would have hurt me, but I no longer cared.  But I knew that it would hurt you to know that I had hurt myself.  Despite not caring about anything else in my agony, I could not bring myself to hurt you in that way.  I knew that you loved me. 


All the times you have bemoaned not being a good disciplinary parent, all the times that you have thought that if you had only been a little stricter I would have done the dishes, all the times when you've cringed as I told exaggerated stories about how we never did any work when you bribed us, and you would give us the cookies anyway...  Well, all those times, the underlying message you clearly gave me, was that you loved me.  Consistency in discipline techniques could only have hindered, what your heart naturally told me without any book of tricks to tell you how to raise me.

Exploring!

I have already managed to teach my one year old that exploring and curiosity are bad, or at least not things "approved of" by Mommy.  When I walked around the corner, he started and backed away from initiating an investigation of the myriad unknowns of his world.  Later, he looked up at me questioningly, recognizing I was there, before he reached out to touch something new.  Not in the beautiful hesitancy of trusting a parent, where a parents advice on something potentially scary, is sought.  Not using me as a partner to investigate and navigate the world that has taught him healthy respect and hesitancy, but gut wrenchingly a look for approval. "Will I be pulled hastily away from this 'danger' as well?  I might as well ask, as to reach out my hand for comprehension, only to have it pulled back." 

I dream of being organized enough that I have a large house and yard completely explorable by a 1 year old.  But then, as my child eats dirt and teeths on rocks (large clean ones he can hold in his hand are the best - they are hard and cold and probably taste good and earthy-natural-wild too), I think of all of the "safe" exploration toys on the market for his age group.  Long term safety of gnawing on plastic aside, is this limited bright colored exploration what I really want for my child?  Are bright colors better than what he could get by himself in his real, unpretentious world?  How do I define "better"?  Is it how much knowledge he can find, or what knowledge?  What would he prefer? 

Then words from my favorite book  (I know, I have more than one - or a new one every day, every moment), come back.
    How we want to mimic our parents.  We want to discover their world.  It is not some T.V. hyper plastic world that he wants to discover, that he is unsatiably curious about, but my world.  (Unless of course my world is a "T.V. hyper plastic" one.) 

I love books that capture this sacred longing of children to become like their parents.  This natural motivation that makes learning what they will need in the world they are and will be in, spontaneous.  This instinctual force that makes all play the best suited learning for that individuals life.

        

I just wish he saw me as an exploring partner, not the curiosity police of his domain.