It's been a while since I blogged about Jacob. Not only is he now almost 3, but he is also an older brother. This has created new challenges and joys for our family. Three recent experiences, in particular, have led me to reflect on how I can be a more effective, loving and powerful father.
First, while lunging to grab Jacob and, in theory at least, protect him from falling and hurting himself, I fell and hurt myself. Hence the cast on my right arm. Not only was this painful and frustrating, but it represented an unfortunate recapitulation of a similar event a few weeks earlier, when my lunging to prevent Jacob from doing something mischievous at the dining table contributed to him falling from a chair onto his face. Ironically, the more recent lunge was both more noble (in that Jacob was an actual risk, however minimal), and more damaging. So anyhow, that was the 1st experience.
The second experience was taking a photograph of Jacob holding a book written by a new friend of mine and then observing him throw the book into the crib, missing Zander by only a foot. This incident woke both Julie and I to the possibility that Jacob could harm Zander simply because of his developmental stage and Zander's relative fragility. We looked at each other and agreed we needed advice about how to guide Jacob in relating to his younger brother.
The third experience was reading the 1st few chapters of a wonderful book called The Wonder Of Boys. this book spoke directly to me as a father, man, and former boy. The author, Michael Gurion, emphasizes the importance of biological differences between boys and girls and how this should shape the ways we parent, educate and mentor boys. His ideas gave me some ways of thinking about how to respond to the first two experiences.
But, 1st, a few observations about why I've been doing what I've been doing:
- The lunging toward Jacob is a reflexive action driven by limbic fear and founded in a narrative that the world is not safe. For over a decade, it has been clear to me that actions like this reflect my Enneagram type, the 6 or Loyal Skeptic. More recently, I've begun to see such responses as related to various traumas I have experienced in life. By the way, if you read the word “trauma” and think I'm talking about something absolutely horrendous of which you were not aware even though you know me, I would refer you to the work of Peter Levine. He uses a broad definition of trauma that includes experiences I have had like the divorce of parents, getting lost at the mall at age 7, totaling my car in college, and getting held at knife point in elementary school. I will save the topic of healing trauma for another post.
- I have a habit of doing things for Jacob that he could do for himself, Like putting on his clothes, washing his hands, and moving the stool closer to the toilet or sink.
- I can be more physically forceful with Jacob than either he needs or the moment calls for. This most often happens when I feel frustrated that he is not doing what I want him to do. I rationalize it in my mind as setting effective boundaries, but actually it represents a mild form of bullying that, although not physically harmful to him, can hinder his emotional development. (How do you think he learns to be rough with others?) And it ain't so great for my development as an adult either.
- I do practice effective language with Jacob yet he could be even more effective and better customized to him being a boy. For example, I learned several years ago from Julie's childhood friend, Jean, to use present tense declarations instead of commanding requests. Example: “In our family, we eat with a spoon," instead of “Eat with your spoon.” Yet this still is insufficient for boys who need such declarations framed in terms of the larger goal or job.
- I often expect Jacob to do things quickly, when in reality he needs more time to do them and there is no rush anyhow. In fact, there can be great joy in hanging out with him while he does things his way. A good example of this is how he gets from the car to the house after arriving at home. Whereas I take the straight path directly to the front door, he likes to walk down the driveway, take 7 or 8 steps on the sidewalk, then turn and walk up the front walkway to the front porch. And it's actually fun to watch him do this! Now, he also has a habit sometimes of then taking off at full speed down the sidewalk, but I realized he does this more often before going to school then upon arriving at home.
Now, here are some of the new things I've been practicing with Julie's support and Jacob's able participation:
- When tempted to lunge, move slowly and observe what Jacob is up to. Take a deep breath, which slows down the body's threat response.
- Whenever possible, let Jacob do things for himself, even when he is struggling, so he learns how to rise to challenges. In addition, rather than offering help, let him know he can ask for help, so he learns how to make effective requests when mastering challenges is not something he can do alone. The book Blessings of a Skinned Knee has been a useful guide in this regard.
- Catch myself before or during the act of using unnecessary physical force and take a chill pill. Pause and take a moment to consider my alternatives.
- Create powerful new frames for Jacob's actions that appeal to his biological drive to have a job to do and purpose to fulfill. Examples: “Babies lay down when you're changing their diaper. Big boys stand up!" " Your job is to keep the floor clean for the whole family. That's why when you drop your food, you pick it up.” “You are a great big brother. You touch your little brother gently and you protect him.” “Tonight is a big night for you. You are going to sleep in your big boy bed all night!" “Last night you were a big boy and slept in your bed all night. Way to go, Jacob! Tonight, you get to fall asleep all by your self! What a big boy action that is.” It is fun to give such pep talks.
- Instead of rushing Jacob to do things, give ourselves more time and let him meander a bit, all the while reminding him of what the larger goal is. Sometimes, all it takes to prompt him to do something is to stop pushing him to do it and just watch lovingly or even close my eyes for a few moments.
Naturally, taking on these practices is a gradual process. My actual behavior is a mix of the old and new. The aim is a positive trajectory.
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