See?

At the folk festival the other weekend I ran into the midwife I saw for my pregnancy with Peanut.  I was telling her about Peanut, how she is 9 months old now and how that is just such a delightfully cute age.  She nodded agreement and said, "Well, we're really enjoying three right now." She is a very involved grandmother, and she was referring to her grandchild, who was there.  I paused awkwardly while I had a little moment, enjoying three? before I said hastily,"Oh, yeah, three is really great too."

But I was taken aback.  For reasons which seem random and ridiculous now, I've feared the age of three since Boodge was born.  I thought it was universally known as a tough age, the "first adolescence", and I hadn't heard anyone say they enjoyed it. I'd heard a few parents say three was much harder than the so called "terrible twos".  Before I was a parent (when I understood very little about kids, and normal development), I saw some three year-old behavior that at the time, seemed pretty stubborn and lippy, downright selfish, even (kids? selfish? c'mon), and I concluded that three was going to be a very trying year.  I have carried that belief right into Boodge's three's.

Then the conversation with my midwife got me thinking. Here we are, over two months in, and it really hasn't been that bad.  In fact, three has a lot of charm, in Boodge's new independence, his evolving sense of humour, his insatiable curiosity, his limitless imagination.  Best of all the hilarious or insightful things he comes up with as he's piecing together his understanding of the world.  But when things have gotten heated between us, I have muttered negative things about three year-olds, even posted on facebook, like I did on Ardan's 3 and 2 months birthday, "only ten months to go".

And lately, it has struck me: what the hell was I doing, telling myself three would be terrible?  Talk about setting me and Boodge up for a bad year.  It brought to mind high school sociology class, where they taught us about the self-fulfilling prophecy.  We learned about a study in which, when teachers were told to expect better performance from some (randomly picked) students, those students did end up performing better, likely because the teacher subconsciously did things to help them based just on their expectation.  And the opposite effect would be true too, though I'm not sure it's been studied because it would be unethical.  If you are told to expect negative behavior from a child, you will probably treat them differently. Maybe become stricter, less patient, easily irritated, stop looking for the reasons because it's "just because he's three."  And negative behavior from your child will probably follow. 

It reminded me again of how powerful words are, especially those words we repeat over and over to ourselves, which become our beliefs.  I was practically looking for Boodge to turn into a back-talking, contrary little guy.  But he didn't.  He's still Boodge, still cheerful and cooperative most of the time, still has his valid reasons when he isn't.  We're still growing together, and unfortunately, he's always a few steps ahead of me.  And I don't always know how to respond to some of his new, frustrating behaviors.  So it is helpful for me to have some information and expectations about the different phases of his childhood, but I don't want to fall into that trap of defining a certain "age" as one I should fear and loathe.


One of the "ages" parents talk about all the time is adolescence.  I have already had thoughts about it, how bad it will be, I've pictured Boodge lying on the couch not mowing the lawn like we asked, I've imagined him reclusive on a video game in a stinky bedroom piled with mess. I haven't really pictured him organizing a charity fundraiser at his school, or playing in a garage band, or being a really good friend.  Parents don't seem to hesitate to speak negatively about their teenagers.  And teenagers, in turn, sit around talking about how awful their parents are. I'm sure all that negative expectation contributes to the rift that so many parents and children feel at that time.  

When I was a teenager, my mom took a different approach.  She told her friends how much she loved the teenage years, the maturity of near-adulthood, the ways I helped her out (like making dinner when she had to work late), the things I was interested in.  She told me how her friends would look at her in disbelief, and tell her she must have a very different kind of kid.  But I wasn't. I just had different kind of mother who focused on the good things and actively appreciated me, rather than believing what she had been told to expect of adolescence.  Even as a teen, I remember being grateful that she saw things that way.  And I was motivated to do and become more of what she liked about me. 

Boodge has his own way of driving home these points to me.  The other day, he did something really annoying, something he knew he shouldn't do, and I wasn't feeling very patient.  When I said angrily, "Why did you do that?" he laughed and said, "Because I'm a cheeky monkey!"  Which is what I often call him when he does something mischievous or potentially annoying, but I don't get annoyed because I'm in a good mood.  And often I tell him, "I love my cheeky monkey." I think he was genuinely a bit confused as to why his "cheeky monkey" behavior didn't get a laugh that time.  He's just living up to my expectations, after all. 

It's a good thing he didn't catch on to my belief that three would turn him into a raging hellion. I guess I'd better pay attention to what I say and think about my kids.  And expect positive things from them, and treat them accordingly.  I'm sure there will be bad times at every age, but I'd rather take each day as it comes, and try to focus on the magical moments that happen every day.

Such as this morning, when he came running into the kitchen, so excited:
"Mummy!"
"Yes?"
He stuttered in that way kids do when they are trying to tell you something complex or important. "Well Mummy well, Mummy I will show you the colour, well Mummy, well Mummy I will show you, well Mummy, I will show you the sun and the wind colour!"
"You will? You can show me the colour of the sun and wind?"
"Uh huh!"
"Show me, show me!"
 And then he closed his eyes.  "That's the colour."
"You close your eyes and that's the colour?"
"Uh huh, see Mummy?"

I do see.  Three is really, really sweet. 

What do you tell yourself to expect from your children, your spouse, your friends, yourself?