My Life Coach

With the imminent arrival of our little “Petal” looming it has become clear to me just how “unlittle” our Little Butterfly is. With her very short practical “preschool” haircut, sporting self chosen lime green winter pjs she looks every part the “Miss Independent” she thinks she is. Upon waking one very wet and windy World’s End morning she established herself on our bed next to her favourite parent demanding cereal (without milk) and juice from her mum. She brought supplies with her too, her “puzzle and paint bag.” She had emptied onto the bed her felt tip pens and colouring books and was busily colouring in and chatting to her favourite parent who was buried somewhere under a mountain of duvets and snoring quietly.
I stood quietly at the door listening to her natter away oblivious to the fact that she was getting no response from her favourite parent. Then it dawned on me, this wasn't baby talk any more, these were coherent sentences that made perfect sense and expressed her intentions or made her point. She was explaining exactly what she was doing and why with confidence and allowing for the odd grammatical error or mispronunciation there was no misunderstanding her intention. I have always been fascinated by the little growths and improvements to the Butterfly’s ability to communicate vocally. I think I’ve always judged her maturity and growth on how well she communicates with words. The Mauritian on the other hand judges her growth by her motor skills and her creativity.

Then she started “Kindy” and suddenly everything changed again, now we are having conversations about all sorts of things, including why she isn’t ready for bed or a bath. Now we also have to come up with logical reason why she can’t go to certain places, “it's raining” doesn’t work because we can put our raincoats on. She’s at the stage where she wants to do everything herself and she will stubbornly refuse help or advice while trying to put her pants on back to front or her shoes on the wrong feet. I am all for her trying until she gets it right or admit she needs help, but I cannot watch her struggle. At first I was always interfering and getting yelled at so now when she insists “I can do it I can do it!” I retreat gracefully telling her to call if she needs help. There are days when she gives in within minutes and comes looking for me to help her, there are other days when she ends up screaming with frustration but still stubbornly refuses any help. Then there are the times when it all just falls into place and she gets it right, those are the times she’ll come charging down the passage shouting “Look mummy I did it I did it!” Ah yes the simple pleasures of life, the sheer delight at managing to button up her pyjama top correctly all by herself. Would that life remained so simple! Along with the pride I feel that she got it right there is also for me, a sense of achievement that despite the many frustrated or abortive attempts before the triumph I was able to keep my distance and let her work it out for herself. That is the hardest part watching your child struggle with elementary tasks and not help; it’s taken me a long time to learn that. But now I’ve got the hang of it I am watching the Mauritian struggle with the same concept and I know that no matter how many times I tell him to just leave her to try he won’t. Like me he keeps wondering why she won’t let him help her especially because he wants to and he’ll do anything for her and like me he’s going to have to figure out that it’s all a part of her growing up and we can’t stop it. Like me he’s going to have to learn to back away gracefully and watch from the sidelines poised and ready to help only when asked. My telling him how to handle the situation only makes him feel like I doubt his abilities as a parent even though I’m only trying to help. Yet another lesson learnt!

I have come to the realisation that you spend your childhood absorbing life lessons and skills, your teenage years trying not to learn anything remotely akin to grown up behaviour and maturity and your twenties thinking you’ve learned all there is to learn about life. Then you have children of your own and suddenly you’re tumbling through a kaleidoscope of life lessons that throws you’re view of yourself, those around you and life into complete disarray. You begin to see things from completely different angles, the most telling of which is the view of the world through the eyes of your child. The world is a beautiful and fascinating place filled with simple joys and pleasures, colours are bright, sounds are intense, laughter and fun are priority and learning is a by product that you take in your stride and use it later when you need it. There’s no analysing the whys or how’s, things just are, the lack of logic makes things more interesting and the truth is the way things are not the way one wants it to seem.

On Tuesday our Butterfly turned four, her birth and those first sleepless screaming months a distant memory. Her baby years are over now, she skimmed over the toddler years with aplomb and has landed gracefully into the childhood years grabbing it head on and going full speed. All the Mauritian and I can do is hang on tight and enjoy the ride proudly sitting on the sidelines and learning along with her.