I'm a firm believer in conversations. I think it brings us together and is the glue of our relationships. In the words of Sam to Diane on Cheers, "I like to conversate."
Every day I have opportunities to conversate with many people very important to me. Today was no different. I talked with my husband and luckily all three of my kids, two of them in person! It was a stellar day for conversations with my immediate family.
I also was able to talk with my mom and my youngest sister which while pretty standard is always a fulfilling part of my conversations each day. My mom is 83, so how many more of these conversations will we have? One never really knows. Having lost my dad at the tender age of 16, I know not to take these conversations for granted.
I talked with my staff and teachers today on several fronts, on several topics and in several different ways. How they delight me with their intelligence and passion for our mission. I talked with parents served by our program and felt the passion rise in me as I heard their needs expressed so vividly.
I talked with one of our preschoolers about his art project and how he was going to give his painstaking gift to his grandma and why and to my two year old friend who got her first potty sticker.
I talked with my career coach and my mentor who guided me beyond myself and my worries and my fears and led me to places I know I need to go and need to grow.
I talked with my passionate board members who dismay me every day with their love for what we do and their willingness to seek better ways of doing it.
I talked with the internet guy about repairing our slow internet and while it wasn't my favorite conversation he promised to help me, so he's my new best friend.
I had a deep, abiding, conversation with one of my closest friends about life, love and happiness which ended in hugs and prayers for each others intentions.
But my final conversation of the day, the one that was the time best spent, was with my sister only two years younger than me. You see, this conversation is different from all the others. When I call Susie it is a return call because she has tried to call me twice already about this. Once last night, and once today and has been put off too often and needs to tell me about the movie she watched last night.
When we first get on the phone she initially informs me about the weather report for the next seven days. All of which she lists, then gives me the details...followed by her recommendations for the children, i.e., "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday the weather will be sunny and nice, so tell the teachers the little kids can go outside, but Friday, Saturday, Sunday the weather will be cold and rainy so let the teachers know the kids need to play inside."
I am then asked for a full report every few days about what the teachers said when I told them what the kids could do.
You see even though my sister is only two years younger than me she is eternally about the age of six. This means that sometimes I am short on time or patience and I find myself doing several other things besides listening to her report when she calls. But tonight was different. I was alone in my car and I was so glad I called.
Susie told me about a movie she watched. A home movie...one where many of our family members who once were alive and are now gone, were in the movie. She told me everything they said and everything that happened in the movie and before I knew it I was transported back into time and could see us all at the lake, perched on the edge of the dock, playing "King of the Dock" pretending to be knocked in by her and the incredible joy that brought her and us!
Before I knew it we were giggling like little girls again and I was suddenly eight years old and she, her eternal six, and we were just sisters having fun laughing at our combined family antics that were the mainstay of our childhood. I was a little girl again and the time travel was genuine.
How many of us are lucky enough to have someone who reminds us so clearly of who we were when we were young? I've known Susie all of my life and don't remember a time that she hasn't represented our childhood. This is different from our siblings or childhood friends, this is truly someone who still sees the world through the eyes of a six year old and always will.
I had a lot of really wonderful, life changing conversations today with people I love, people I admire, people I adore and people I treasure.
But the best conversation I had today was with Susie, who reminded me of where I came from, who I was and what's really important in life....good weather and conversating with those we love.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Letting Go of Baby
In my work with families over the past 24 years one thing that never gets easier is watching parents leave their child for the first time.
It is both heart breaking and exciting as we know that the process will eventually lead to a wonderful outcome for both of them.
I will never forget the couple that dropped off their baby and then said they were going to lunch for an hour and would be back. We always recommend that parents practice a bit before they have to go back to work so they are more comfortable. We know a newborn will be fine, but it's mom and dad we worry about in the first nine month until separation anxiety emerges for the baby.
This couple bravely came in and dropped off their little girl and left the center with a brave face after double checking that we had their phone numbers tattooed on our arms. They ventured out toward their car parked in front and stood not ten feet from the front door embracing each other, visibly crying....
This lasted the entire hour they were to be gone...going to lunch...their first attempt at leaving their little one. They never got further than the parking area outside my office.
When I first opened my blinds and saw them I felt as if I was spying on a very personal moment and shut my blinds immediately so they could have their moment. My eyes welled up with tears (I'm a sympathy crier) but also because I could remember how I felt the first time I left my firstborn. To this day nothing can bring me to tears like that moment.
About 30 minutes later I "checked in" by rotating the blinds just a little and there they stood still embracing but now talking and bravely smiling through their tears. They hadn't moved a foot. I quickly shut the blinds before they saw me.
Approximately 25 minutes later I peered through the blinds and there they were. Still talking but now not needing to embrace and they were clearly excited that they had entrusted us with their child for an entire hour even though they hadn't moved more than 50 feet away from her for the entire hour they were "gone."
We never at any moment intimated that we knew they never really left because it was a BIG moment for them and in their minds they had left their baby and it was harrowing.
One of my favorite sayings after 24 years of doing my job is to say "The anticipation of you leaving is way worse than the actual leaving." When children do begin to realize that parents still exist even when they no longer are visible is when children begin the process of objecting to being separated from parents. This phase is called separation anxiety.
They will cry when the parent pulls up in front of the center.
They will cry when handed off to a favorite teacher.
They will cry during every transition throughout the day.
They will WAIL when their parents arrive as if to say, "What were you thinking leaving me here with these people?"
Parents often want to stick around because they think it will help when really it's often harder on kids for parents to linger. In the case of the infant mentioned above, it didn't matter.. Parents close by or far away don't matter to a child whose needs are being met by a loving caregiver. It's the older children that struggle with separation that we worry about.
You see, the anticipation of being separated is so much worse than the reality. When parents stick around too long those little ones just keep crying until the parent finally leaves then they can get settled in and they do great. It's hard for parents to believe since they aren't here to see the immediate results.
Children are smart and they know that if they continue to cry their parent might stay longer thereby prolonging the inevitable, but parent and child alike are strung out by the time they separate, oftentimes with both of them in tears.
I've seen it daily. I've seen it for 24 years. I know that the anticipation of saying goodbye is way worse than the actual goodbye, but I hope you know that doesn't mean I'm not immune to it myself.
My youngest went off to college last month. The anticipation of her leaving was brutal. She is my baby after all which means my life is changing in real and dramatic ways, plus I really, really like this girl. We have fun, she has been the center of my life for the past 18 years and while I've had enough experience letting go of the other 2, she is special because she is her. If you have more than one you know just what I mean.
I repeat. The anticipation of her leaving was brutal. My imagination took me places that I'd never thought it could and my focus became the actual day I would say goodbye and drive away from her. God I hate that day. Having done it twice before I knew how painful it was and no matter what else happened I knew it wasn't going to be easy.
And then the day came. When that day came she was happy. She was thrilled with her sorority pick, she was confident and excited to begin her new life. It was hard to be sad!
On that parting day, as it turned out, she walked away from us to go and get her pictures done and she held on a little longer than usual but was content to say her goodbyes. We finished eating our lunch then decided to drive by one more time by her new house, to essentially torture ourselves before the six hour drive home without her.
As we slowly drifted by and she and her 60 new "sisters" were situated out front for their pledge day picture she saw us. Then she did what only she would do....
She flipped us off. It was as if to say, "How dare you remind me of you again after I walked away." "How dare you take pictures of me and risk that someone might spy you and ask me who you are." "How dare you."
Then just as suddenly she began blowing us kisses...over and over again until we drove out of sight. It was so HER. It was not what my proper first or perfect second child would've done, it was what the baby did and it was perfect. It was just what we needed to leave and let her be her in her new place.
Did I cry? Hell yes. Did I cry as much as I did the first 2 times. Hell no. I know she'll be back, just like they were and I know when she comes back it'll be even better.
I've been that parent standing outside of a childcare office and I've been that parent saying a final goodbye to a young woman ready to embark on her own adventures, and now I'm that parent that gets to reconnect with her husband again and take on new adventures that have been put off for awhile.
The anticipation of separation is so much worse than the reality. Knowing this, preaching this, seeing this daily one would naturally think it would be easier for me.
Nope.
It is both heart breaking and exciting as we know that the process will eventually lead to a wonderful outcome for both of them.
I will never forget the couple that dropped off their baby and then said they were going to lunch for an hour and would be back. We always recommend that parents practice a bit before they have to go back to work so they are more comfortable. We know a newborn will be fine, but it's mom and dad we worry about in the first nine month until separation anxiety emerges for the baby.
This couple bravely came in and dropped off their little girl and left the center with a brave face after double checking that we had their phone numbers tattooed on our arms. They ventured out toward their car parked in front and stood not ten feet from the front door embracing each other, visibly crying....
This lasted the entire hour they were to be gone...going to lunch...their first attempt at leaving their little one. They never got further than the parking area outside my office.
When I first opened my blinds and saw them I felt as if I was spying on a very personal moment and shut my blinds immediately so they could have their moment. My eyes welled up with tears (I'm a sympathy crier) but also because I could remember how I felt the first time I left my firstborn. To this day nothing can bring me to tears like that moment.
About 30 minutes later I "checked in" by rotating the blinds just a little and there they stood still embracing but now talking and bravely smiling through their tears. They hadn't moved a foot. I quickly shut the blinds before they saw me.
Approximately 25 minutes later I peered through the blinds and there they were. Still talking but now not needing to embrace and they were clearly excited that they had entrusted us with their child for an entire hour even though they hadn't moved more than 50 feet away from her for the entire hour they were "gone."
We never at any moment intimated that we knew they never really left because it was a BIG moment for them and in their minds they had left their baby and it was harrowing.
One of my favorite sayings after 24 years of doing my job is to say "The anticipation of you leaving is way worse than the actual leaving." When children do begin to realize that parents still exist even when they no longer are visible is when children begin the process of objecting to being separated from parents. This phase is called separation anxiety.
They will cry when the parent pulls up in front of the center.
They will cry when handed off to a favorite teacher.
They will cry during every transition throughout the day.
They will WAIL when their parents arrive as if to say, "What were you thinking leaving me here with these people?"
Parents often want to stick around because they think it will help when really it's often harder on kids for parents to linger. In the case of the infant mentioned above, it didn't matter.. Parents close by or far away don't matter to a child whose needs are being met by a loving caregiver. It's the older children that struggle with separation that we worry about.
You see, the anticipation of being separated is so much worse than the reality. When parents stick around too long those little ones just keep crying until the parent finally leaves then they can get settled in and they do great. It's hard for parents to believe since they aren't here to see the immediate results.
Children are smart and they know that if they continue to cry their parent might stay longer thereby prolonging the inevitable, but parent and child alike are strung out by the time they separate, oftentimes with both of them in tears.
I've seen it daily. I've seen it for 24 years. I know that the anticipation of saying goodbye is way worse than the actual goodbye, but I hope you know that doesn't mean I'm not immune to it myself.
My youngest went off to college last month. The anticipation of her leaving was brutal. She is my baby after all which means my life is changing in real and dramatic ways, plus I really, really like this girl. We have fun, she has been the center of my life for the past 18 years and while I've had enough experience letting go of the other 2, she is special because she is her. If you have more than one you know just what I mean.
I repeat. The anticipation of her leaving was brutal. My imagination took me places that I'd never thought it could and my focus became the actual day I would say goodbye and drive away from her. God I hate that day. Having done it twice before I knew how painful it was and no matter what else happened I knew it wasn't going to be easy.
And then the day came. When that day came she was happy. She was thrilled with her sorority pick, she was confident and excited to begin her new life. It was hard to be sad!
On that parting day, as it turned out, she walked away from us to go and get her pictures done and she held on a little longer than usual but was content to say her goodbyes. We finished eating our lunch then decided to drive by one more time by her new house, to essentially torture ourselves before the six hour drive home without her.
As we slowly drifted by and she and her 60 new "sisters" were situated out front for their pledge day picture she saw us. Then she did what only she would do....
She flipped us off. It was as if to say, "How dare you remind me of you again after I walked away." "How dare you take pictures of me and risk that someone might spy you and ask me who you are." "How dare you."
Then just as suddenly she began blowing us kisses...over and over again until we drove out of sight. It was so HER. It was not what my proper first or perfect second child would've done, it was what the baby did and it was perfect. It was just what we needed to leave and let her be her in her new place.
Did I cry? Hell yes. Did I cry as much as I did the first 2 times. Hell no. I know she'll be back, just like they were and I know when she comes back it'll be even better.
I've been that parent standing outside of a childcare office and I've been that parent saying a final goodbye to a young woman ready to embark on her own adventures, and now I'm that parent that gets to reconnect with her husband again and take on new adventures that have been put off for awhile.
The anticipation of separation is so much worse than the reality. Knowing this, preaching this, seeing this daily one would naturally think it would be easier for me.
Nope.
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