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Four things I learned late and I’m teaching my son, “Biscuit,” early:
How to set physical boundaries
Having a personal style is f*cking crucial
How to say “sorry”
That it’s okay to ask for help
01. How to set physical boundaries
By the time my son was four, when asked if he would like a hug or a kiss, he might respond with:
“No, thanks.”
“Not right now.”
“I’m unavailable.”
“Maybe on Saturday.”
… which, mad respect, honestly, because, while I might wanna just snatch him up and cover him with kisses, it is so powerful to see such a little person set firm boundaries (and expect adults to follow them).
I have a notoriously large personal space bubble, but didn’t learn that I could ask people not to touch me until I was already a mother, so little piece of me heals every time he declines a hug.
02. Having a personal style is f*cking crucial
If I had to give my son’s current *aesthetic* a name, it would be:
“Retired Boomer on vacation”
“Airport-casual Doomsday prepper”
… or, as he describes it, simply: “Army.”
I’m talking: Cargo, khaki, and camouflage. But also: Terrycloth Hawaiian shirts and hiking boots. He looks like he could fit in comfortably at any Walmart in rural America, or, perhaps, flying coach on his way to an all-inclusive resort trip.
At least, this is his style right now. It will probably change, like his shoe size, in 1-2 months. But for the time being, I’m doing my best to support whatever he wants to wear that makes him feel comfortable and confident.
Y’know what a game-changer it is to put on a bomb-ass outfit? I love seeing him feeling himself in palm tree print.
Go off, Buddy! Mama’s cheering you on. 👏🏻
03. How to say "sorry"
Ugh. This is a tough one.
Early in our marriage, EL was already good at genuine apologies. It was something I really admired about him, because I could barely spit the words out. I gritted my teeth and said “sry” if I really knew I messed up.
I didn’t grow up seeing adults apologize or own their mistakes, but how could I expect to teach my son to apologize if I couldn’t do it myself?
Little kids are developmentally self-centered and tend to believe things were their fault. If we as parents never take responsibility for the pain we cause, our children will internalize our mistakes.
Biscuit is 5, and we’re still working on this one, but I hope I can continue to lead by example with my (very patient) husband.
04. That it’s okay to ask for help
When I was 21 and my boyfriend and I broke up, I moved out of our apartment while he was at work and discovered that, powered by enough spite, I had the strength of one of those ants that could lift ten times their body weight.
I’m telling you: I carried a dresser down three flights of stairs on my back like a motherf*cking turtle shell because I was too proud and stubborn to ask for help.
I don’t know why it was so important to me to do it all alone. I probably could have found someone to help me, but my ego wouldn’t allow it.
I don’t want Biscuit to get hung up on his ego like I did (and sometimes still do). Often, asking for help is really brave, because it makes us vulnerable.
But the great thing about asking for help is that it allows other people to show up for us! In the past couple years I challenged myself to ask for and accept help, and it has deepened my friendships more than I could have imagined.
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I'm so glad you are teaching biscuit these things. The turtle shell part, same. I strapped a queen size mattress to the top of my 2003 Saturn Vue, a whole vibe.