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Friday, May 1, 2015

Drop off childcare is sort of new for my girls. They have one day for two and a half hours, starting last term.  As we are at Playcentre they are dropped off in the same centre they have been at since they were babies, it's just that now they get to have an extra day there without me. They have some strong relationships, they are independent and comfortable in their surroundings, they are able to let people know when they are hungry or need to go to the toilet and are able to trust the adults around them enough to let them help. The wonderful mums there too are respectful of their play, and right now of their need to be different identities and be called different names, and they make an effort to remember who is Elsa, who is Ben or Holly or William or Grace or... last week when I picked them up they had name tags with their assumed name printed large and their real name in brackets.

However the week just gone was one of those times when you really appreciate how differently toddlers think. I was greeted with enthusiasm as I arrived for pickup and received great reports from them and the adults who spent time with them about all the fun things they had done. No toileting accidents (yay!!!) no upsets, just happy settled play. They both expressed to me how they didn't want to leave (yay!!!) and we went on our merry way. Until we were part way home.

I am not sure what the trigger was as it was behind me in the back seat but Thing 1 started to cry. Not just cry - scream and wail and howl. In that special ear-splitting way she has. It continued the entire 10 minute drive, the extra 10 minutes it took for me to get Thing 2 and the gear out of the car and into the house, and the next 20 minutes of me carrying her and lying down with her on my tummy to cuddle and talk. She just couldn't calm herself down enough to tell me what was wrong in all that time, I felt so helpless, I was desperate to find out what she needed and I had literally no clue.
Finally she took some breaths, managed a shaky "I'm better" and told me "you did it wrong way mummy" okay... I guess that was something to work with...but seriously what on earth? the car? the music in the car? the seatbelt? each wrong guess of course was so upsetting to the child trying to communicate something to what must've felt like the stupidest adult on the planet:
the answer? her name tag.
As there were some new people at Playcentre this morning I had written their names on stickers as some people find it hard to remember who's who. "you said I was Meredith but I wanted to be Ava" And then I remembered, I had been in a hurry, I hadn't even asked what name she wanted or explained that I would need to put her actual name there too to help out the new people.
I apologised, she said "I forgive you mummy, I love you mummy" and we got on with our lives (after a very long nap!)

The scenario seemed (to my adult brain) over the top ridiculous so i spent a long time trying to see things through her eyes. And I guess it isn't really so different after all. Her need to be respected, her need to be heard and understood and supported. She has a 2 year old's communication skills and assertiveness and at this stage in her life she needs advocates. I wondered how many times it probably happened that she had done a painting or a drawing and a helpful adult had written her name on and she had thought "but I'm Ava today" or had been cheering her on while she ran "really fast" and they said "what is your name, oh that's right, Meredith" and all these little interactions built up inside her. And the origin of all of them was the name I had given her today. And how often do I do that in my other relationships? Make assumptions of what people need based on what I think without checking first? Listen but not reflectively?
I am so thankful for the lessons these children teach me, for the way they give me pause.