THE HONESTY OF CHILDREN: A LESSON

I don't write much about my granddaughters.  It's not that I'm not a typical proud, smitten grandma; it's just that when grandparents go on and on and on and on....well, it's like back in the day when my dad used to get the slide projector out to once again show pictures of that trip to Colorado in the Chevy -- it gets old after awhile to sit through the narration.

But today I am moved to write about the girls because I miss them (they are out of town on a family vacation this week) and because I had an "a-ha" from each of them at Easter brunch.

Our youngest is 3 years old now.  Already.  Yes, the time has flown by.  I looked back at the post I did when she was born.  It seems like yesterday.  We cared for her 3 days a week for the first year and a half of her life, then 2 days a week for another year.  Then she moved into full time childcare/preschool.  It was both a relief and a grief.  Those intense 10 hour days of childcare bonded us and exhausted us.  But regardless of how easy or challenging the days, she was a fact of life for Hub and me and we will always cherish that time of getting to know her, to love her, to give her all of our attention and care while she was with us from infancy through toddlerhood.

Her older sister is now 8 years old and there is a huge difference between 7 and 8, I realize.  Suddenly she seems to be already on the cusp  of those "tween years" in some ways.  She's a math whiz, loves art, loves her gymnastics class, has joined a Brownie troop, has lots of friends, listens to modern pop music, and has a pretty sophisticated sense of humor.  And she's also still a little girl in many ways.  She loves to come to our house and hang out with us -- it's finding time for her in our/her busy life to arrange that which can be challenging.  I try to appreciate every single minute with her because  in a blink of an eye her friends will be more important than her family and hanging out with grandma will take a backseat.

Watching the girls grow up is the same as when I watched my sons grow up.  It's a bittersweet experience.

So here are the lessons I learned "out of the mouths of babes" at Easter dinner.  Plates were full and first bites being taken, when the youngest took a bite of her cheesy egg loaf and declared "I don't like it," and put her portion on her mother's plate, before diving into her fruit salad.   We all sort of chuckled, but I also marveled.  How many times have you politely suffered through eating something you really didn't like?  Wouldn't be refreshing to just say, "I'm sorry; I don't care for this dish; guess it doesn't work with my palate, but I'd love to double up on salad!"  Wouldn't it be great if that honesty was accepted and not taken in offense?

Later, as we complemented my daughter-in-law for her fresh and tasty fruit salad,  our 8 y/o granddaughter quietly said, "I helped make it."  She sits next to me and I think I'm the only one who heard her,  so I thanked her for helping.  Conversation continued about the salad, when she said a little louder, "I washed all the fruit!"  And a couple others at the table thanked her.  Then she announced, "Nobody is thanking me for helping!"  Her dad pointed out that, yes, we did thank her, to which she replied, "But not Grandpa, or _____ or ______", calling out those she had not heard from.   They immediately thanked her, of course, as her parents admonished her for this moment of egotism.  But again, like with her sister's honesty, I was rather proud of her.  She didn't feel adequately recognized for her contribution.  Wouldn't it be nice if it was OK to ask for what we need emotionally?  To say, "I'm really needing some recognition right now; will you give me some kudos for how hard I've worked...for my contribution?"

Naturally we adults will socialize the abruptness out of both of the girls; it's part of learning and growing and operating in polite society, which is important.  But I hope we never socialize them to squelch their voices. I hope we don't teach them to just go along; to make them feel their needs are unimportant.  Giving voice to what's true for them just might result in adults who are honest; who know how to politely and assertively ask for what they need; to avoid resentments.  Wouldn't it be nice to communicate honestly and effectively and really be heard?

I think so.

At least, that's the view from here...©