Yesterday during breakfast, the lass was excited because her dance costume for her upcoming recital was going to be in so she’d get to try it on. She’s actually in 2 different routines for the recital and in one of them, her group of dancers will be dressed up as Disney princesses. She’s going to be Merida from Brave.
In the course of discussing this, the lass made the comment (I’m paraphrasing) “She’s the princess who’s always getting yelled at.”
Cut to the Wife, who was visibly affected by the comment. While I’m a strong believer in not underestimating kids’ intelligence and ingenuity, I have a hard time believing that the lass was implying anything by the comment. At her age, kids tend to say exactly what is on their mind, as opposed to making thinly veiled broadsides. The Wife didn’t share that view, as it was clear she had taken the lass’ comment personally.
So, for the sake of argument, let’s say the lass was that clever. Or, more plausibly, some subconscious part of her mind identifies with Merida for the reason that she thinks she’s getting yelled at all the time. Should I or the Wife take this to mean anything?
I don’t say “No”, I say “HELL NO!”
It’s a known psychological quirk of the human species to remember negative experiences more sharply than positive experiences. Kids are no different. Indeed, add a dollop of immaturity and a pinch of child-tendency-for-drama and there’s a perfect recipe for them concluding Mom and Dad do nothing but yell at them. Heck, they might view Gitmo as a vacation getaway.
But a skewed perception does not a reality make.
Kids screw-up, all the time. Part of being a parent is figuring out which screw-ups require intervention for corrective purposes. Obviously, when a kid touches a hot stove, they don’t need to be yelled at. They’ve received all the corrective information required in the form of a nice, painful burn.
But how many times do they have to be asked to pick up their rooms? My limited experience informs me that it is exactly as many times as a parent is will to ask them. I ask once. Politely. If they don’t respond, Hell follows. Most of the time, I only have to ask once. The Wife is cut from similar cloth. I’ve watched the parents who ask. Then ask again. And again. And again. While their patience is impressive, it’s not the way I, or the Wife roll.
So the kids are going to get yelled at. They make different sorts of mistakes all the time, or variations of the same one all the time. Like when they start fighting and disturbing the household with their antics. They get a chance to work it out and if they don’t I, or the Wife, work it out for them. Sooner or later they’ll realize it’s better that they work it out.
My point is that it’s baked into the cake that kid’s are going to get yelled at. It’s also baked into the cake that they’ll remember those times quicker. Probably a result of some evolutionary survival quirk. It’s not good for survival of the species if Grog keeps running into tar pools or eating poison berries.
The fact that they get yelled at doesn’t mean that’s all that happens. Last night I was rolling around on the floor, wrestling with the boy. He was giggling the whole time. The lass shared a tea-party with the Wife earlier this week. There are all the books and stories we’ve read together. Day trips to zoos and museums. Trips for ice cream and to the beach. Tee-ball, soccer, karate, hockey. Time spent helping with homework.
There are, in summary, no end to all the good or positive experiences we’ve all shared. They easily outnumber the negative ones. That is reality. Those aren’t the things that swirl at the leading edges of their memories. Unfortunate, but also reality.
It takes a sober second of consideration and reflection to remember. Kid’s don’t have that ability, it’s part of what defines them as a kid, an inability to see the larger world around them in any sense. Parents are adults, and we are not hampered by the same affliction. Therefore, we shouldn’t fall prey to our kids perception of their little world.