May 29, 2005
the Zen of children
Recently I’ve been blathering on about spending THE ENTIRE SUMMER with my children. In response to one such blathering, M&Co wrote, ‘I admire your plan for the summer. Some days I don’t even like my kids very much and can’t imagine spending all day every day with them.’ This, as they say, got me thinking.
I love my kids, a lot, let me just say that up front. And I feel very fortunate to be able to stay home with them, especially since we are also able to do things like pay private school tuition and the have the lawn guy and the housekeeper and drink Starbucks coffee every day on one income. I have, as a total stranger pointed out recently, a very nice life.
But let me also say that the company of small children is not exactly the most intellectually challenging or stimulating. My kids are almost-five and almost-three; they talk about superheros (which superhero wears what; which superhero has what power; which superhero could beat which other superhero in a race), the antics of Bob the Builder and his crew (Henry likes to recount the plots of videos we have JUST WATCHED TOGETHER ten minutes ago, FOR THE TWO HUNDREDTH TIME), and what animals might bite you if you got too close (somehow Charlie got the idea that birds bite, so now he goes around our yard yelling, ‘Hi, birdy! Don’t bite me!’). Small children (or at least the small children who live at my house) like repetitition–the same stories over and over, the same puzzles over and over, the same games–played the EXACT same way–over and OVER. It is wearing and, frankly, often unpleasant.
I think I have written this before, but I’ll write it again: there is a kind of Zen to life with small children. Repetition of mundane tasks can be an opportunity for mindfulness, which is a step on the path to enlightenment. I believe this about many everyday things; for me, there is a real Zen quality to laundry, for example, especially ironing (I love to iron–I find it soothing). And I can see how this is true of caring for children. After all, meeting the basic needs of a child is both mundane and thought-provoking (why is Henry so fascinated by the order of narratives? why DOES Charlie think birds bite?). But to try to be mindful at EVERY SINGLE MOMENT with these children is, for me, nearly impossible (I’m out after about fifteen minutes of structured meditation as well). Eventually I just want to be alone, or at least to have some quiet. I don’t want to create thoughtful answers to their questions or help them get a drink of water or try to recall the details of the last scene of The Incredibles. I just DON’T WANT TO.
And so sometimes I don’t really like my children either. I love them, and my heart would break if anything happened to them (my heart does break, in fact, every time they are sick or hurt or sad or angry or . . . ). And that makes me sad, because they are wonderful children, and I wish I could like them all the time, not just most (98%?) of the time.
But I suspect I am not alone in this, although I wonder how many mommies will say, ‘Sometimes I don’t like my kids.’ I am impressed with M for saying so in her comment on this site.
Posted by Susan @ 12:18 pm • Uncategorized
RSS feed for comments on this post.
TrackBack URI
May 29th, 2005 at 10:56 pm, ieatcrayonz Says:
Wow, you have been on a blog roll this weekend. The blow up pool is okay, I hope?
I think the first time I thought that was the 2nd, or 3rd, or 100th night of colic with Lauren. Actually, it was probably all of them. I remember feeling so guilty for just wanting to shut her off, and it wasn’t even her fault.
I have more moments like that than I’d care to admit when my four older nephews get together. My super sensitive toes are constantly being stepped on without a single “I’m sorry” to be heard. It’s a zoo X 10 when we’re together and I just have to breathe, picture my happy place, and remember I was like this when I was a child and this chaotic terror can only be described as my penance for all things I’ve done wrong in my life.
It sounds like you’re getting stressed way too early on this summer endeavor. Grab that iron and listen to the little birdy that bites your ear say, “It’s all going to be just fine, and the boys will start school again in 15 weeks, 4 days, 3 hours, and 35 minutes.”
Are there any day or week-long summer camps for boys that age? Just an idea…
June 14th, 2006 at 1:32 pm, bubandpie Says:
“Zen” is a very good way to put it. It’s just so hard to actually pay attention to one’s children. I can throw myself into it for about five minutes, and then I start thinking about checking my email…