Of Course You Do

Mother's Day has me thinking about the tricks of the trade invented by moms to make life easier, especially when children are small. I admit to being pretty self-entertaining before I had a child, but when I got this brand-new little person who was my captive audience, it was the most amazing thing imaginable, and I took advantage of it. I had way more fun with it (and her) than most, I think. I subjected my little girl to whatever antics I thought would captivate her attention, make her laugh or stretch her imagination. I performed a lot of one act plays, monologues, comedy skits, silly songs, strange faces and stranger sounds. Plus I mimicked many of her own behaviors to perfection just to keep us both entertained.

I'd stand at the stove preparing her breakfast. There she'd sit in her highchair while I sang a song I'd made up, entitled "Makin' Eggies for Ma Baby." It became a classic, and also involved slapping my bare feet on the kitchen floor (as the accompanying percussion) in time with my tune. Note: My daughter (now 26) just called. I told her I'm writing about this and she said, "You mean when you'd smack your platypus toes on the floor?" (I always love how kids "keep it real.") So, apparently it was memorable (but now I'm hoping it didn't do any permanent damage). Anyway, she'd listen, watch my every move, glance at my feet, watch the eggs flip in the pan and beam a big smile of approval. She was a truly appreciative audience.

Life was a musical comedy for us even back then, and she got used to me making up songs and lyrics that pertained to the situation at hand. Other favorite titles included, "Hello Baby Doggy," "Even When You Hate Me, I Love You," "The Going to School Song," "Got the Kids and the Dog and My Wife and my Truck - Kyuck, Kyuck, Kyuck." (That one her father, a painting contractor, made up. We sung it proudly like we meant it...because we did.) My daughter continues this tradition to this day in her own life, and has a list of hits as well, including "I'm So Sleepy, On my Pillow."

We even made up songs about her school studies, because while she could remember lyrics so easily, memorizing textbook quiz answers was practically impossible, or at least very stressful for her. Music came easy from the day she was born. Ask about our Science Class hit, "In-gestion, Di-gestion, Respir-ation, Ex-cretion" sometime for a real treat, but you probably won't want to see the visual aid/performance art that goes along with it. (She aced the test.)

Music was only one tool I used to make life more fun. Another tool in my kit included a saying I've used since my daughter was small. Four simple words, "Of course you do." Some of my friens have adopted the saying, because they've heard me say it to my daughter (or their kids) over the years. I've used it on them here and there too. When they use it on me, I'm not sure whether they're mocking me or actually see the value in it.

I started using it on my daughter when she was three years old or so, because that's the age that kids start seeing things in stores, pointing them out and loudly letting you know they W-A-A-A-N-T I-T, whatever "it" is. As a budgeted young mother, I couldn't really afford to buy everything that caught a three-year-old's eye, so I tried to figure out a way of saying no without diminishing her spirit, while simultaneously validating her good taste in "stuff."

Household shopping trips for a young family exposes you to lots of other mothers shopping with their kids. There's plenty of opportunity to watch as they totally destroy the hope in their child's eyes, discount their child's appreciation for wonderful things and let their child know that their opinions hold no weight, sometimes with an accompanying smack! You see a lot of disappointed and crying children in the store over things they w-a-a-a-a-n-t.

Sometimes you even see kids disintegrate into a mass of flailing arms and legs, screams and tantrums. Mothers are left to figure out how to deal with that for themselves. I guess it's the stress of the budget, or exhaustion, or other unknown circumstances, but I always thought I'd try something different when my daughter started whining for things.

My approach went something like this:

Her: Mom, look at this! I want it...can I have it Mommy, can I have it? I need it to live! That is an actual quote, she would actually say, "I need it to live" about things. Even so, I didn't discount that comment. I was fairly certain she'd still get to live if we left without the object, but I still acknowledged how strongly she felt about the "thing."

Me: Of course you do! Oh my goodness, look how great that is! I'd mention the color, the style, and whatever else was appropriate for the item du jour. I'd tell her that I could certainly see how wonderful it is and why she might want it. I'd tell her I loved it too, especially if I meant it. "Who wouldn't want something as fabulous as that?" I'd ask.

And we'd stand there together, unified in our total adoration of the object at hand, imagining the many uses and the enjoyment that would come from having such a thing. The groundwork was laid that let her know that her opinion was valued.

Of course, the harder part came next. The reality of the actual acquisition of the item. Depending on the price and circumstances, there were options, but often none of them meant taking the item home that same day. There was planning to do, also known as financial finagling.

We'd add the item to her wish list and maybe drop off or change the priority for something else to make room for this new thing. I would tell her the truth, that we couldn't afford it today, but I never let her think anything was impossible, because it wasn't. If she kept her focus and desire for something, we would find a way to get it. With little children, focus fades quickly and they're on to something new, so issues often resolved themselves by default.

We'd stand there, unified once again, this time by the reality of our finances and our mutual disappointment that immediate gratification was going to take longer than advertised. At least now we had a plan.

As a young woman, my daughter is a master at figuring out how to get the things she truly wants. She's an excellent negotiator, too. When she got married, she navigated all the contracts with the wedding vendors, and to this day I don't think that wedding photographer knew what hit him.

It started with a desire to validate a child's wants, but it turns out that those four words seem to help for other things too, not just for the material objects that catch one's eye. I've used those words for friends wanting to make changes in their lives, move to another place, take a fabulous vacation or make a relationship change. We could all use some "nurturing" and validation when sharing life's dreams or transitions.

When someone important to me spontaneously shares their life's wants or dreams, even though logic or circumstances finds them implausible or difficult (maybe even impossible) to attain, I offer at least a moment of validation. To do so says that you listened and did your best to understand (just like a loving mother would). That you want for them what they want for themselves...even if they're just thinking out loud.

So one day, if your dear frien says, "Sometimes I feel like chucking it all, loading my dog into my truck and driving away." Don't be alarmed. It's not the same as saying that they're going to do it. It doesn't mean it's going to happen. It just indicates a desire to "unplug" from current reality and step for a moment into a newly imagined one, which, in the doing, can be a vacation in itself. So merely listen, lean in and imagine their successful escape in that moment. If you love them, simply say, "Of course you do."