Determined

The family has entered into the phase of determined thinking.  Things are not requested, or simply wanted, these days.  They are needed, mandatory, non-negotiable, and even traumatizing if denied.  It's been a tough transition for the family because Shea has always been somewhat mild in her personality, polite, malleable, even reasonable (if one can say such a thing for a child under 6). 

This new phase brings along all kinds of new family dynamics, many of which I thought I would avoid.  But, it is now the fifth year of her life and I find myself saying things like, "Because I said so," "If I hear one more word about it," and, even, "I'll give you something to cry about."  I've morphed into the universality of parenthood, I've become cliché, a sitcom dad of the worst variety, driven there by the insistent whims of a five year old.  Who knew this day would come?  Stop laughing, mom and dad.

The flip side of this determinism, this fixed mindset, is that Shea is beginning to drive herself, to want things so badly as to work for them.  I took Shea to a friend's pool a couple of weeks back for an afternoon of play.  She loves the water.  She's been taking swimming lessons for a couple of months now and she's getting pretty good.  At the friend's house, she didn't want to wear a life jacket in the pool.  Enter determined moment.

The pool has a shallow end, but Shea can only touch the bottom right near the stairs, so I'm not entirely comfortable with her swimming without some kind of flotation device.  She insists.  She swears she can swim.  I'm not buying.  Again, she insists.  Which leads us to this moment.

I'm amazed.  Shea has never swam that well before, but she wants to show me something, to prove herself, to move past the "no."  She's determined, self-confident, brave.  

It's then that I realized that sometimes I get in her way.  I'm not meaning to do it.  In fact, I mostly believe I should be doing it.  It is that portion of the parent that is alert to danger, aware of consequence, and wary of water.  But, and I remember this about my own childhood if I allow myself that deep reflection, there is nothing more frustrating to the child than that "no."  That doubtful expression of ability, that assessment that says you aren't ready.  Shea pushes back against that often.  I simply listened this time and that was the result I got.

This will be the struggle of a lifetime.  Her pushing, me wary and pushing back.  I don't think it will ever end, but I can try to be self-aware enough to let her try.  In the end, it will lead her further and to higher heights, until she is ready to take a greater leap.  Maybe even like this one: