Little Guru - Sitting at the Feet of Your Child

by Alan Weinstein


India seems so far away and the devoted relationship one forms with one’s guru so esoteric and demanding then along comes your first child and ‘voila’ your very own live in guru!

No matter what you are doing with your kid you will get constant opportunities to witness, then later reflect on, and choose to adjust your behaviours. Of course you stand to be way more successful changing yourself than with your attempts at adjusting your kid’s behaviour, and the reason for that is of course simple. You do have control of your own behaviour.

I find myself at fifty years of age a first time father with a varied working history spanning engineering, economics, comedy, environmental and social justice campaigning and now blessed with a humorous if headstrong 20 month-old daughter.

Humorous and headstrong are probably the two most likely characteristics that our household’s progeny would be expected to have. My wife is an environmental campaigner, whose personality was shaped by European immigrant parents and Catholic schooling. Her first work, 10 years in the diplomatic corps, did not quench the fire or make her more diplomatic than headstrong. I come from long lines of Jewish ancestors; rabbis, businessmen, engineers, tailors, and their respective wives – (Jewish mothers in the who shaped Woody Allen mould). Humour, in all its shades abounded.      

My wife says of me as a father that I am not authoritarian. She says I am liberal, but with clear boundary setting and I know that I desire for my daughter in her early life a strong sense of self determination. I bring a great deal of patience to the parenting role and take a creative approach to inquiry which entertains the whole family on occasions.

The fun we are having – ranging from making up and jumbling up words; to searching for and trying to arrest the rampant tickle monster; borrowing ‘rubber’ facial expressions and bodily contortions from Marcel Marceaux (me knowingly, and 20 month old Mia just because she can); and aeons old laughter about body functions (mine as my body becomes increasingly decrepit, and Mia’s as hers becomes increasingly adept) - is the stuff of legends.

As a fifty-year-old I had supposed that broad life experience would set me up for being a good teacher to my kid. Little did I realise that lack of life experience would set her up for being a good teacher to me.

Take the example of when we get to the end of a journey. Whether she has been in her baby car seat, her stroller, or her backpack the moment of undoing the latches that hold her in place always result in Mia wanting to try to do them up again. At first my desire to keep things moving right along (to my plan) would result in my asserting my authority and through the advantages of being biggest, nimblest and more skilled at distraction and manipulation overwhelm her will with my will.

One day as I was reflecting on this continuous wrestle of the wills I realised that typically I would take her away from her activity of choice – and within moments settle down with her to seek to discover another activity of choice.
 
I wondered if this parental behaviour of interrupting the desired play activity of a child to assert parental preferences might lead to a shortening of the seemingly lengthy (10 – 20 minute) period of interest Mia finds for most things she is doing.

Beyond that wondering I wondered if continuous interruptions to children’s choice of activity might be an element in the parental and educational nightmare of ADD and ADHD.

My recent work for the National Association for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect who run Child Friendly Australia (www.childfriendly.org.au) and National Child Protection Week had been to convene a nationally representative group of Early Childhood Development experts to write a brochure examining the Importance of Play in a Child’s Development.

Undoubtedly if I would ask members of the ECD expert group – a state chief paediatrician, GP, social worker and ECD author, and a regional and rural family programmes developer, they would have professional opinions on the causes of ADD and ADHD but it seems to me that in the last twenty or thirty years access to the thinking of international leaders in psychology and family systems work has equipped us as laypeople to parent in ways that our parents were not equipped for.

It has become so that when it comes to theorising about how to lovingly interact with children that we as parents are as expert as those professionally trained for these roles.  [192 words]

As you would respect your guru, respect for your child.

From our earliest days together when Mia has done things that carry an element of risk if I estimate the risk to be acceptable (eating small amounts of sand or dirt – kids on average eat 8kg of dirt by the time they are 5 years old, letting go with one hand when on a safety swing, trying to drink from a big persons glass while still too unco) I say to her, “I wouldn’t do that”, then leave her to decide how to proceed.

Also from the beginning we used one consistent word, “Danger” to indicate risks and then explained which type of danger we were dealing with. Examples are when sitting Mia on a shop counter, the roof of our car or in a dining chair I would say “that’s an edge” and sweep her hand or leg through the void beyond the edge to assist with comprehension. Having identified the risk or risks I trust our daughter to momentarily take self-responsibility for her safety…and without exception she has.

We have used the same approach dealing with other types of risk such as “Danger – hot” when near the bath taps or passing near to exposed gas heaters at al fresco eateries.

When things have gone wrong, riding the rocking horse so strenuously that she flipped it right over backwards or launching herself backwards from the middle of a king size bed over the side we were fortunate that in each case Mia landed on upholstered items and damaged nothing more than her sense of fearlessness.    

While on the subject of fearlessness, now that Mia is a toddler I see her developing a sense of fear which she did not have at all as a baby – and which is not yet very well rationalised – and also having quite well developed self preservation instincts.

I am certainly not ready to let her cross roads unassisted but I am willing to trust that she will not venture past an agreed point without waiting for a parent or carer to join her.

In relation to fear – observing her varied reactions around animals has been an eye-opener for me. This has sequenced from - no fear- happy to pat the 1200kg bull on the educational farm – to fear – asking to be lifted up at the sight of any animal (or bearded man) - to respect – standing bent at the waist like a sumo wrestler and saying “hello pussycat” or “hello birdie”. It is so cute.            
    
Children it seems to me are often keener to be acknowledged for a moment than to fight for a position indefinitely. In our household that manifests in Mia sometimes being unwilling to let go of what she is holding onto at the first request but noticeably if I ask her to give it to me when she is ready or to let me know when I can have it a moment of thought is usually followed by a volunteering of the desired or required item.

Having been brought up surrounded by statements like, “Do as I say, not as I do” I could see where my own snatch what I need syndrome would have manifested from (perhaps the Editor will kindly allow my 80 year old mother right of reply). Months ago I would insist even resorting to the use of force that we leave whatever we were playing with at our neighbours or friends places even though the friends and neighbours were fine about us returning things on our next visit. However I anticipated the moment when I was going to have to ask my child not to snatch and developing a respectful way of obtaining what I need from Mia has saved me the embarrassment of having consistently set a misleading example.   

Another example. The times when my daughter looks me in the eye: knowingly, gently, lovingly, twinklingly and holds that eye contact for what seems like an eternity. My heart is indelibly engraved in those moments. I am both uplifted and humbled by the reflection of my love for my child reflected back by her. This is what the early stages of the devoted relationship with one’s guru affords. A show of love from the teacher that at the time seems so outrageously generous and overwhelming because at that stage one does not know the full extent of one’s own capacity for showing love to self and others.

And in the last month or two one or two special moments have occurred that close the feedback loop for me in respect of the choices I have made as parent – on the first occasion since Mia was born when my wife and I left her and went out for the evening – Monica was co-presenting the community category award for Young Australian Woman of the Year - Mia sat eating her dinner with her baby-sitter and said “Bye Mum” with no drama at all, and then of course there are the few times each day when from halfway up my thigh I hear a voice say, “Daddy hug” and my heart melts.

And so Mia, for all that I have learned this past year and a half or more; of self, of loving, of devotion, of searching for new and effective ways forward, now and into the future dear child, I humbly sit at your feet.