Before I had the clarity to just hug my son when he’s crying & whining I tried saying things like, “settle down, use your words – can you ask more politely?”
But I only ever saw his little body go further into overload.
“Um, actually no, Ma. I can’t. I’m not thinking clearly – I’m freaking the f. out. It feels like the world is ending over here and you’re asking for niceties???”
And at some point I realized….he’s not wrong.
Let’s say in some crazy world, I, myself, lost control. 38 year old me – crying on the hardwood floor throwing hysteria….
Can’t say I’d welcome someone telling me, “you’re fine – stop crying, let’s get on with the day”.
In fact, I probably wouldn’t even really hear it. Those words would bypass to the back of my brain.
A note to find years later saying – your feelings are inconvenient & uncomfortable – please keep them inside.
When really, feelings are fluid – like water. Meant to flow through us. Meant to be acknowledged, felt & released.
A paramount process for happiness.
One evening, after a particularly exciting whine & dine delight, my mom reminded me of the hack she used (and still uses) on me….
Playing detective.
Any time I was out of sorts she’d guess – often wildly – at possibilities until I would either start laughing or crying.
It worked every time.
She had the bird’s eye advantage. She was paying attention. And she knew that if she got me talking I would feel better.
A universal truth.
So, after the jets have cooled and my three year old can hear me again – I put on my detective hat and peer through my pretend looking glass (kids are so gullible) – and I begin my questioning.
He LOVES it. Now we’re solving a puzzle – now we’re on our own mystery adventure – unraveling clues, together.
Separate from the feeling.
“Are you mad because I can’t put the peel back on this banana, hmmm? Sad because there are only 3 letters in your name instead of 4? No, that’s ok today? I see. Hmm, are you frustrated because apple sauce is made of apples? No?”
And so it goes until we’ve uncovered his truth.
That little ding, ding, ding – ring the bell we have a winner helps Ari identify what’s going on inside of him.
Like all of us, he wants to be heard. And like so many of us, he needs a sounding board to find the words.
The cool thing is that the very act of the game shows him that his feelings have value. We don’t even have to do anything about it.
Because just like some kind of magic – it’s enough.
