Tuesday, November 19, 2019

"Mama, are you nice?"

A week or two ago Molly began asking me this question, sometimes several times a day: "Mama, are you nice?  Are you nice, Mama?"



At first I was both amused and perplexed by the question.  And should I be, perhaps, offended?  Why does my two year old need to ask me if I'm nice?  How should I answer?  "I mean, I think so, Molly.  I try to be nice.  What do you think?  Am I nice?"

Gradually I came to realize that a reasonable translation of her questions, as she intends it, might be, "Mama, are you in a good mood?"  In other words, "Are you going to be nice right now?"

And when I realized that, it made me stop and realize what a very reasonable question this is for a toddler to ask.  And how very unpredictable the world -- and her family members -- must seem to her at times.

"Mama, are you nice?"  Is this going to be a snuggle on the couch and read books moment, or are you about to start hollering at everyone to put their shoes on because we are late to go somewhere?

"Mama, are you nice?"  Will you swing me up onto the counter and let me rub my hands around in the flour and help you make the bread, or are you going to say it's too messy and you don't have time for that today?

"Mama, are you nice?"  Will you tickle my tummy and blow raspberries when you change my diaper, or get frustrated that I'm not potty trained yet?

"Nell, are you nice?"  Will you invite me into your room to play trains or calico critters with you, or are you about to slam the door and yell to Mom that I'm ruining everything?

"VeeVee {ReeRee}, are you nice?" Will you kiss me and snuggle beside me on the couch, or will you push me away and say I'm getting in your spot?

"Daddy, are you nice?" Will you pull me up into your lap while you work in your study, or send me out because you're stressed about work today?

"Mama, are you nice?"  Will you snuggle with me at bedtime and rock me and sing every song I request and not weary of it for at least half an hour, or will you be in a hurry and have to tuck me in and leave right away?

Come to think of it, there are a lot of things about human beings that can be unpredictable and hard to understand.  How could a toddler understand my underlying state of emotional well-being and how that is likely to influence my responses on a given day?  As much as I'd like to say that I'm consistent with my kids, the reality is that Mama on a relaxed day at home when the house is tidy and the chores are mostly done and the kids are well-behaved is probably a bit different than Mama slightly bothered by a messy house and the underlying stress of undone chores, running late for a gig or behind on work I meant to do.

* * *

Mama, are you nice?

My kids teach me a lot about myself, and this little phrase in particular stops me in my tracks multiple times a day of late.

When they show me their latest artistic endeavors, will I delight in their creativity, or be frustrated by the resulting mess all over the table and floor?

When they scatter their belongings around the house in a massive game of who-knows-what involving all three girls and seemingly every possession they own, will I smile and say, "Play is the essential work of childhood!  Now let's work together and clean up before dinner!" or will I bemoan the resulting disaster zone spread throughout the house?

* * *

I am consoled to know that there is much grace in this, and that I don't have to be a perfect parent or even a perfectly consistent parent to raise these kids.  Children are naturally so very forgiving, and when I occasionally react from a place of stress rather than responding calmly, they are quick to understand if I simply talk to them about it.  "I'm so sorry.  I am feeling worried about this mess because we are having company soon, and I have a headache so I'm not feeling well enough to tackle it all myself right now."  They leap into action, hugging me and promising to be helpful, and scrambling to put their things away or clean up their art projects as needed.

So Molly?  I'm trying to be nice.  Some days it's harder than others, but I'm trying.