Letting Go of the Inner Worry Wart - A Lesson in Many Parts and a Work in Progress
I decided my son had enough energy to power half a city, and we needed to “dwindle the reserves”. To that end, we embarked a trip to the mall to play in the indoor play area. I try my best when we go to these kinds of places to set some simple ground rules:
1. No running if there are a lot of smaller children around - these areas are generally too confined.
2. No climbing up the slide, this is what the stairs are for.
3. No screaming…
In recent weeks, I’ve gone out of my way to let Jaden “learn the hard way” when it comes to testing his physical limitations - a lesson for him in just what he can and can’t yet do as well as a lesson for me in letting go of my tendency to worry about everything. As I watched him climb and jump from obstacles I deem challenging but not life threatening, I only needed to close my eyes twice - a marked improvement ! No, thankfully, physical harm was not my major concern on this day. What was a bit disconcerting however was a sign that read “Welcome! Please enjoy playing quietly.” in ominous dark lettering (never mind the exclamation mark that seemed to be screaming). First of all, the play area is filled with preschoolers all playing wildly after what had likely been days of being stuck inside at home. Secondly, this is a play area in a mall - I don’t know that I mind too terribly not being able to hear the music piped in (i.e. The Girl from Ipanema droning over and over threatening - promising - to be lodged in your cranium for the next two weeks).
Foolishly I allowed my mind to wander, pondering this amusing little sign and just how quaint I thought it was when I came to a dawning realization there was a voice - not nearly as tiny as the body it was coming from. This voice was climbing in decibels, rising steadily above the rest in the “quiet” play area. The voice was that of my son. I was horrified. I could see parents looking around for someone to claim the child, and briefly I considered pretending to look around too. But in that moment of hesitation, the unthinkable happened- he got louder. Calmly I strolled over and in a stern voice reminded Jaden of the No Screaming rule. This proved a fatal mistake - now everyone in the play area knew who the little loudspeaker belonged to.
Choices become severely limited at this point, because now the line is drawn in the sand. When he screams, all eyes fall on me to see what I will do next. I don’t want to leave the play area because clearly there is an energy overload and at least the mall has sufficient background noise to subdue the intensity of all the hollering. I stride over to him more directly this time and give Jaden a time out on the bench for poor behaviour. As we sit there, and I try for the umpteenth time to explain the situation to Jaden, I have a realization. It’s not pretty but, it’s true - I’m too protective and watch out for Jaden too much AND I don’t let Jaden just be Jaden very often. I don’t really like how that feels.
I know full well that my happy and boisterous child is just being himself: silly, zany and loud but also happy and carefree. Though I fully realize there is a time and place for noisemaking, this is after all a playground to him albeit indoors. Not only that, but the loudness is not really screaming, whining or crying, it’s singing and laughter. It is then I decide to draw a new line in the sand - us against them so to speak. This is something I have never really done before - it’s scary and liberating to stand back and just accept what Jaden is doing when he’s just being himself, even if he’s not conforming to some strange rule like be quiet in the play area. I feel as though I can let go of the worries of what other parents will think, or how my son’s behaviour is impacting those around him. Like it or not, this little bullhorn singing The Wheels on the Bus is my boy, and really I wouldn’t want him any other way. At least I know he’s happy - and I always know just where he is.