Popped Balloons
Gleek got a balloon from the Halloween party. She was playing with it and it popped. I looked to her and she was sitting in stunned shock. I knew that tears were imminent, so I went to her. She looked at me “My balloon popped!” she declared, then came the flood of tears. I snuggled her into my lap. “I want another balloon right now!” she cried.
Normally, when a child cries “I want another balloon right now!” I hear “mommy go get another balloon for me right now!” I instantly react on the defensive with a torrent of words explaining how we can’t get another balloon at that very instant. This time I was not over tired or stressed. I was not frantically seeking ways to make sure that I did not gain any extra chores. This time my whole focus was on being there for Gleek. So I did not answer with a torrent of words. Instead I snuggled her a little closer. Gleek went on to lament that now her little stuffed dog could not fly. She threw the dog angrily across the room. She cried 30 seconds more. Then she picked up the balloon fragment and showed me how she had been scratching off the bats which were printed on the balloon. I listened and helped her stretch the fragment to show me. Then she noticed that there was white gooey stuff on the inside of the balloon. She began picking it off in fascination. And that was the end of the upset.
It could have gone so much differently. If I’d spilled my torrent about how we can’t have another balloon today, that would have fixated her attention on getting another balloon. I’d probably have spent 30 minutes or more arguing about buying another balloon. Instead I allowed her to express a desire to have another balloon and I made no attempt to suppress that desire. This time expressing the feeling was enough. The entire upset, from pop to happy play, lasted about 3 minutes.
An hour later Patches decided to draw pictures on his balloon. Pop. That was a very similar experience. We spent two minutes grieving for the balloon. Then one minute more finding something new to be happy about. Patches decided on his own that the next time he has a balloon, he’s not going to try to draw pictures on it.
So often I react to an incident like a popped balloon defensively. I immediately start to act and react trying to suppress the incoming upset. Ironically my reactions often create the upset I was trying to avoid.
I need to give my kids true sympathy more often. I need to give them sympathy that has no agenda, but is merely interested in understanding and sharing whatever experience they are having. I need to listen more to what they actually feel without telling them how they ought to feel. I need to listen to what they actually say rather than reacting to what I assume they mean.