Grocery Store Epiphanies: Insights for Moms Facing Toddler Challenges
“They [children] become like who’s guiding them.”
Those words, waxed poetically from the lips of an Italian immigrant grandfather, have been ringing through me like a bell this week…
It all started one unassuming Wednesday afternoon.
Everest and I were making our usual run to Sprouts for a couple essentials.
Perusing down the condiment aisle, I stopped to grab a jar of coconut oil.
Enamored by my baby, the gentleman next to me struck up a conversation.
He was a small framed man, probably in his 70’s, and exhibited a gregarious and warm energy.
Through his rich Italian accent, he gushed about his granddaughter (a year old, just like Everest) and about how perfectly remarkable children are.
“They are so pure, loving, and precious. It’s the adults who teach them the less than attractive ways to be in the world – unkindness, selfishness, and greed,” he said.
And then he drops a parenting doozy,
“[Children]…they become like who’s guiding them.”
In the West, mainstream child rearing advice focuses heavily on strategies for getting kids to do what we (the parents) want them to do, with as little fuss as possible.
When deep in a chapter of big toddler opinions and emotions, we’re offered an array of tips for how to “modify,” quickly, our child’s behavior.
I understand the appeal of this approach. And often feel its pull.
Because, let’s face it, it’s uncomfortable and frustrating to sit with a distressed child sometimes. Especially when you feel clueless as to how to resolve the episode of upset.
For instance, a child who displays extreme resistance to buckling up, every time you get in the car to run to the market, park, library, etc. (speaking from personal experience).
In these moments of struggle, I’m not immune to getting distracted by all the ways I might be able to “fix” the present dilemma — leaving our home.
“Can I distract him with a book, while fastening the straps?”
“Maybe if I sing a song, he’ll settle in?”
“Should I take him to see a chiropractor?”
“Maybe if I state more firmly that we must leave, he’ll get it, and relax?”
And on and on the mental chatter goes.
It’s easy to get stuck on trying to solve the challenging moments with our kids, forgetting that they’re not math problems, where you can simply plug in a formula and out pops a perfectly cooperative youngster.
Our children are so much more complex than that.
They’re whole worlds of wonder with immense power and insight to offer US.
These moments when we find ourselves in a deadlock position with our kiddos, desiring them to go our way, and them clearly rejecting it, are opportunities to assess our own relationship to conflict.
Both the inner conflict – wanting to escape the moment of tension within ourselves and find relief from the physical sensations of stress – and the outer conflict – the fact that you and your child desire seemingly opposing things, simultaneously.
In the car seat scenario I mentioned earlier, neither me nor my son are in imminent danger, parked in front of our house, when this occurs.
But my nervous system doesn’t always get that memo.
Long ago, in childhood, I too picked up a message or two from those guiding me, about relationship conflict.
Particularly, that strife between two individuals most often results in emotional harm, or abandonment.
The words of the wise Italian senior, echo through my head again,
““They [children] become like who’s guiding them.”
Can you relate?
Are there stories you’ve carried about how to mother, that aren’t yours as much as they were simply passed down narratives from those who were guiding you, that can be released?
And do you want these old frameworks you’re still operating from, to be what is passed along to the generation after you?
I know, personally, I desire to give my son a new blueprint for navigating disagreements with those closest to him.
To know that there’s a way to find safety in your body, while also respectfully holding the differing viewpoint of another.
It’s my longing for him to see conflict as potentially a doorway to deeper connection and understanding of those he loves, if he’s willing to pause, go slowly, and seek to understand the needs being expressed underneath the tension with another.
But in order to do so, I must embody this approach myself.
When my boy expresses displeasure with getting in his seat, when I desperately just want to go to the library, and have a change of scenery, I can choose to let it be a frustrating struggle, or an invitation to practice my breathwork, rewire my nervous system’s response in activating moments, and deepen intimacy with my son.
Will I be able to engage in the latter every time? Likely not. Perfection isn’t the aim here.
But with the intention to pave a new way for my child, in how he witnesses and experiences friction in relationships, healthy compromise, collaboration, and repair and the commitment to practicing whenever I remember, he will, over time, see an alternate path to the one that proceeds him.
As his mother that’s the best thing, truly, I can offer him — my continual growth and expansion.
My commitment to see what I’m carrying from my past, into my parenting, that isn’t serving either of us.
To be willing to entertain a fresh approach, without knowing exactly how it’s all going to work out, in the end.
When met with what feels like a clash of desires between you and your little one, remember that how you tread this terrain is likely going to be mirrored back to you.
The “Guide” carries the light to support those following behind her, AND also models how to walk the trail.
My aim is to do both with increasing self-awareness, grace, and love as often as possible. And I invite you, sister, to do the same in your own mothering.
Yes. The call of motherhood is weighty.
But you’re Divinely aided.
The Great Mother (Universe, Source of Life, or whatever name resonates with you), is here to help you walk this path with ease, creativity, and pleasure.
And when we’re seeped in the vastness of support available to us through deep connection to our Spirit guide(s), leading our children doesn’t feel quite as daunting.
XOXO