The Why's of Differences and Tolerance

A little teasing I get, and I got my share growing up all the way into elder adulthood where I'm at today. I doled out a little myself. Sometimes the teasing was palatable and I'd laugh along, and sometimes it wasn't even close.

Through it all, I survived, and those I teased survived. Never in a million years did I bully verbally or physically to the point of wanting to hurt someone purposely and spitefully because of (fill in the blank). Pushed the teasing on occasion, yes. Bullying, no.

I'll admit that my instigated teasing over the years included pathetic "judgey" reasons I'd rather not relive, and the older you get, the most judgey it can become. However, when you're in the toddler years, differences aren't necessarily poked and prodded from spite, just poked and prodded because of the differences.

For example, Beatrice struggles with loud noises and still struggles with the inability to filter and process quickly. It can overwhelm her sometimes and that's when she plugs her ears and wants to bolt. Recently at school there have been a couple of times when loud noises have bothered Bea and she plugs her ears, and then a Pre-K classmate tries to pull her fingers out and tell her that nothing's wrong.

Because of the difference and the newness, they don't understand why she does it. The reaction is more about fear of the difference than the reason why. Kids want their normal and try to normalize their world accordingly. (Adults do this too of course, but we're just so much more messy and violent about it.)

Contrast that with the recent bullying incident of a 9-year-old North Carolina boy who was physically and verbally attacked by classmates after he brought a “My Little Pony” lunch bag to school. I'm still trying to digest this one, especially the way the school reacted to the little boy by banning him from bringing the lunch bag back to school. Although it does matter to me what they did or didn't do to those who were accused of bullying him, the school's response to the victim via what was published in the media was irresponsible and cowardly.

The boy's mother sums it up nicely for me (and thousands of others I'm sure):

“Saying a lunchbox is a trigger for bullying is like saying a short skirt is a trigger for rape. It’s flawed logic; it doesn’t make any sense.” 

Amen. And don't give me any bullshit about gender-appropriateness. I've had about enough of that. Good God it was just a "My Little Pony" lunch bag, something that represents friendship and sharing. 

Because we have two daughters though, the above flawed logic still isn't lost on me or the Mama. If this logic were eventually applied to Beatrice for example, with an extreme example being they'd remove her from the classroom and her classmates each time she plugged her ears under duress, you can be damn sure we're going to cause a reasonably responsible ruckus, but a ruckus nonetheless. Especially if she's bullied because of it. The same with Bryce and her glasses.

Again, I understand there's a difference between teasing and bullying, but when it's blatant bullying just "because," then it must be dealt with directly with all parties coming to a baseline understanding of the why's of differences and tolerance, not the "why nots?" of bullying and hate.

It's irresponsible and cowardice otherwise. No exceptions, Kids. None.

"It does not make any sense."

Rock on my little Beatrice. Rock on.

The Joy of Zenning Hard and Well

"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." --Thoreau

So many things we want to pass on to them, to teach them, to arm them the ability to disarm under duress, without backing down and with minimal compromise when needed in their ongoing search for self and relative happiness.

Our children, genetic blend upon genetic blend, whether ours or others, hopefully will learn and development in a way that sets them up for success. Not success in the way that we initially think of it -- oodles of money, security and some monumental impact on the world -- but success in the way they live, in what they see, in how they react to every incremental circumstance good, bad or in between.

Success from the joy of Zen. (We may joke about the realities of finding oneself and achieving enlightenment, but I'll be damned if I don't have the last laugh.)

However, I hope, but can only imagine, that our girls' future is brighter and more opportune than the generation before them. According to Pew Research, "Millennials are also the first in the modern era to have higher levels of student loan debt, poverty and unemployment, and lower levels of wealth and personal income than their two immediate predecessor generations (Gen Xers and Boomers) had at the same stage of their life cycles."

And yet, according to the same recent research, they're the most optimistic about their economic prospects. But they're also quite distrustful of others compared to other generations. What a conundrum. I hope that's not the case with our girls' generation.

Again, we hope we're helping them "see" as clearly as possible, regardless of what they're "looking at," using positive discipline so as to encourage healthy emotional intelligence development. Easier said than done for me, since I'm such a grump jumper.

Meaning that, although I've come a long way with my own "Zenning hard" self (continuous non-reactive "balance" development takes a lot of energy), it's too easy for me to jump to being a grumpy Daddysaur in the face of, oh, things like a broken sewer line six feet down in our front yard costing us thousands of unplanned for dollars. 

Holy crap indeed. Yep, whatever stink life throws in front of us, grumping jumping ain't solving much of anything except making others, and yourself, feel like crap. (I'll end the sewage metaphors now.)

And did I tell you I dropped my iPhone face first onto frozen concrete? Did you hear that glass shatter? Sure that's pretty mild with all the other crappy (sorry) things and people that can happen to us in life, but most kids are grump jumpers by default, and impulse control is important to learn and no time like the pending mindful presence of toddlerville today. 

The Mama and I want our girls to be relentless in their search for self and relative happiness while celebrating those who both complement, and challenge, the journey. 

Zen hard, my girls. And Zen well.

One Incremental Yet Non-Intentional Emasculating Moment at a Time

“I’m havin' a bad, bad day

If you take it personal, that's okay

Watch, this is so fun to see

Ah, despicable me…”

— Pharrell Williams

That's what can bring Daddysaur's to their knees, one incremental yet non-intentional emasculating moment at a time.

The plan was for the Mama to take Bea to a playdate with a classmate, then Bryce would have a date with Daddy to go to the store and then enjoy a slice of pizza together. Unfortunately that didn't go so well -- Bryce wanted nothing more than to go with the Mama and Bea to the playdate, but that wasn't a choice for her.

So we powered through, me getting an unsettled Bryce into the car and on our way to the store. I diverted for a few to watch the big surf from the recent storms and that quelled her inner storm (plus the gummy bunnies didn't hurt).

"I'm better now, Daddy," she said.

I smiled. "I'm glad, Sweetie."

That's when I realized I didn't have the grocery list. The inner storm churned again and we ended up just going home.

Not her fault, but tough nonetheless, to feel like an emasculated failure who can't communicate with a 3.5 year old. No matter what I said, nothing helped. Not surprising considering that children this age have a tough time listening. According to Positive Discipline for Preschoolers, by Jane Nelsen, ED.D., Cheryl Erwin, M.A., and Roslyn Ann Duffy, children don't listen because:

• Adults don't ask a child what she should or should not be doing, but tell her.
• Adults set up power struggles that make winning more important than cooperating.
• The child cannot comply with a request because it demands social skills or thinking skills that have not yet developed.

And many other things. Not that these directly applied to my scenario, but because Bryce doesn't have the social/thinking skills needed to assess why she was going with me and not the Mama, she wanted nothing to do with going with me.

It's bad enough (or good enough -- no judgement mommies) that when we attend a school event like we did the other day, a rainy day arts and crafts festival where the kids could go from table to table and paint and glue and do other things, that most of the parents there are mommies, not daddies.

Even with more women in the workplace today and more men staying at home, anecdotally we tend to still fall into these traditional caregiver/breadwinner roles and no matter how much we may lean in either way to compromise and help one another (regardless if you're an opposite-sex or same-sex couple), the breadwinner loses with the kids because they spend much less nurturing time overall with the kids.

It's not anybody's fault, especially the todders; they are more comfortable with the primary nurturers and don't have the coping skills to know the difference yet. That's just the way it is, so the "Daddysaur's" shouldn't take these overreactions seriously. We shouldn't, but we do.

Argh.

Which is why I need to take a little break from the family action yesterday. In doing so, both girls missed me and even Bea felt my angst, being such a feeler like me. The Mama, of course, just wanted to understand and help me work through it.

Damn you girls. I'm a nurturer, too. Daddysaur loves you. 

;)

"Ah, despicable me..."