I taught the girls to say ouch.
When they first came to me their hair was a mess. Snarls, mismatched lengths where sections had been hacked off, thin and coarse hair that tangled in every hair clip I tried, etc.
Due to a healthy diet and daily vitamins, as well as good hair products and regular brushing, their hair is now sleek and glossy. Jane has a cute haircut. Kate's hair is growing longer every day and curling into ringlets that bounce.
I was so afraid of hurting them when they first came! I have naturally curly hair and my mother's is stick straight. She never understood how much it hurt when she pulled the brush straight through. I haven't let her touch my head since I could do my first clumsy pony tail.
(At first, I held their hair so loosely while trying to do it that every single pony tail fell out minutes after going in. Looking back I feel like those people who don't know how to put a diaper on and it falls off when they lift the baby up!)
But even though their hair snagged at every brushing they never once even complained during those first few months. I was always asking, "does that hurt?" And they always looked at me blankly as if they didn't know what I was talking about.
Thank god for naturally tough scalps, I thought! Thank god for a mom who is careful with their hair! This will never be an issue, I thought!
I began to enjoy doing their hair and bought more cute bows and bands. Doing their hair every morning is now our special bonding time. The house is quiet. We're all barely awake. A few murmured words between us. It's intimate and caring on that elemental, physical level.
Then, about two months ago I carelessly dragged the brush across Jane's ear while she was brushing her teeth (at night I take down their hair and brush it while they do their teeth--easy when they're standing on a stool in front of me and it gives me something to do while they brush ever so slowly). She yelled, "Ouch!" It surprised us both. She looked at me, wide-eyed, in the mirror. I apologized profusely. She did not respond. Neither of us knew what to do.
I think it was the first time I really hurt her. And she said it. And I apologized. A little shift in the dynamic. She knows all about adults hurting her. She doesn't know about it happening accidentally... when the adult is sober...and apologetic.
Since that moment the boo-boos and ouches have snowballed. I am brought infinitesimal scratches and bumps at least every 10 minutes by one of the three toddlers all day long. I am not exaggerating.
Thankfully they now accept air kisses from across the room. It's the acknowledgement, after all.
The need-to-say-ouch has now moved into our previously quiet morning hair doing time. One morning soon after the first time Jane looked at me and said, "THAT hurts!" with a look that told me it had been hurting for weeks. I was shocked. Really? How had she held that in? How does a 3 year old develop a stony poker face? Why?
How could she live here for months before she felt able to say, hey, it hurts when you brush my hair that way!
So I honor the ouches. I acknowledge and air kiss and apologize and do whatever else is needed.
Because I mean it when I tell Jane that she's a strong, smart girl. I mean it when I tell her not to whine but to speak up and say exactly what she wants. She does not need to hide the hurts or coerce or cajole to get what she wants. No more simpering or baby talk. No more emotional manipulation. She can yell, "You are hurting me!!" as loudly as she needs to here.
When they first came to me their hair was a mess. Snarls, mismatched lengths where sections had been hacked off, thin and coarse hair that tangled in every hair clip I tried, etc.
Due to a healthy diet and daily vitamins, as well as good hair products and regular brushing, their hair is now sleek and glossy. Jane has a cute haircut. Kate's hair is growing longer every day and curling into ringlets that bounce.
I was so afraid of hurting them when they first came! I have naturally curly hair and my mother's is stick straight. She never understood how much it hurt when she pulled the brush straight through. I haven't let her touch my head since I could do my first clumsy pony tail.
(At first, I held their hair so loosely while trying to do it that every single pony tail fell out minutes after going in. Looking back I feel like those people who don't know how to put a diaper on and it falls off when they lift the baby up!)
But even though their hair snagged at every brushing they never once even complained during those first few months. I was always asking, "does that hurt?" And they always looked at me blankly as if they didn't know what I was talking about.
Thank god for naturally tough scalps, I thought! Thank god for a mom who is careful with their hair! This will never be an issue, I thought!
I began to enjoy doing their hair and bought more cute bows and bands. Doing their hair every morning is now our special bonding time. The house is quiet. We're all barely awake. A few murmured words between us. It's intimate and caring on that elemental, physical level.
Then, about two months ago I carelessly dragged the brush across Jane's ear while she was brushing her teeth (at night I take down their hair and brush it while they do their teeth--easy when they're standing on a stool in front of me and it gives me something to do while they brush ever so slowly). She yelled, "Ouch!" It surprised us both. She looked at me, wide-eyed, in the mirror. I apologized profusely. She did not respond. Neither of us knew what to do.
I think it was the first time I really hurt her. And she said it. And I apologized. A little shift in the dynamic. She knows all about adults hurting her. She doesn't know about it happening accidentally... when the adult is sober...and apologetic.
Since that moment the boo-boos and ouches have snowballed. I am brought infinitesimal scratches and bumps at least every 10 minutes by one of the three toddlers all day long. I am not exaggerating.
Thankfully they now accept air kisses from across the room. It's the acknowledgement, after all.
The need-to-say-ouch has now moved into our previously quiet morning hair doing time. One morning soon after the first time Jane looked at me and said, "THAT hurts!" with a look that told me it had been hurting for weeks. I was shocked. Really? How had she held that in? How does a 3 year old develop a stony poker face? Why?
How could she live here for months before she felt able to say, hey, it hurts when you brush my hair that way!
So I honor the ouches. I acknowledge and air kiss and apologize and do whatever else is needed.
Because I mean it when I tell Jane that she's a strong, smart girl. I mean it when I tell her not to whine but to speak up and say exactly what she wants. She does not need to hide the hurts or coerce or cajole to get what she wants. No more simpering or baby talk. No more emotional manipulation. She can yell, "You are hurting me!!" as loudly as she needs to here.
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