In college, I worked at a daycare that practiced a form of early childhood education called the Reggio Emilia Philosophy. The method takes its name from a region in Italy, and not unlike Montessori, prides itself in the child being a self-learner and the environment giving the child the opportunities to learn. We were instructed to encourage creativity and self expression, to let the kids learn from mistakes and to never, ever use the word "no." I learned to speak to children in a soft, lilting voice and to let the child take the lead. The children loved me, I loved my job, and I bought the philosophy, hook, line and sinker. I felt like I had more knowledge of child rearing than people with their own kids, and I was confident that when I started a family, I would have some of the best tools to raise respectful, intelligent and creative genius children.
That is, until reality bitch-slapped me.
Flash forward six years later, throw in two ADHD boys, a daughter with some serious post-traumatic stress syndrome and a mom who works 40+ hours a week and you can kiss your "Reggio-Schmeggio" goodbye. Don't get me wrong, I really want to encourage creativity, and I do. But when you inherit children who have serious coping and social issues, creativity tends to take a back seat to things like, oh, I don't know, teaching the kids not to smear poop on the bathroom wall. Now, if you read my previous post, you can see that I did not take a very "Reggio" approach to addressing the poop issue. Had it been Reggio, I would have told my daughter, "I can see by your beautiful artwork on the bathroom wall that you like to paint. You just have not found an appropriate medium- Now, let's think, what could we use instead of poop to create something? That's right, paint! I'll go get some right now! What's that? Oh you do your best creative work on the pot? No problem, you can paint in the bathroom. Well sure, you can paint with your pants down too!! Don't forget to wash your hands!!!"
This is obviously not going to work in our household. But the question remains: When you have kids that know how to manipulate better than a seasoned con artist, how do you give them creative space and encouragement while maintaining strong, respectful boundaries of parent and child?
A prime example of this came the other morning when I was helping our six year-old get ready for school. This child hates mornings. Especially "night-morning" which is his term for when you have to wake up before it is light outside. I look forward to waking this beast like a gladiator looked forward to entering the coliseum in ancient Rome. This particular morning, the beast was in rare form.
It started with the usual. Kicking the covers, throwing the pillows and finally standing up, but only to stomp feet and declare, "I.AM.NOT.WAKING.UP.YET.!!!" Throwing body back on bed, sliding between bed and wall, until finally I have to pick up writhing child and place him (gently) into the shower, all while listening to the chanting of "You.can't.make.me.do.ANYTHING!!"
After the shower, we head back into the room to get dressed. As I am picking out clothes, the running commentary on how mean and terrible I am is not stopping. Don't get me wrong, I am not taking this lightly. I am throwing in statements like, "That is not a nice thing to say," and "I don't like mornings either, Sweetie," to "Please, just be nice and get ready for Mom!" Finally, I hit a wall. I snapped. "If you say one more mean, hateful word to me, I am going to put all your toys into garbage bags and put them in the garbage can!!!."
He sat down to put on his shoes. He thought for a minute. And then he said, quietly, yet firmly and clear enough to hear, "I wish you were an ant so I could step on you and squish you!" Then he smirked.
Now, I have to give the kid credit, I don't know too many six year-olds who would pull that one out of their pocket, but then again, I don't know too many six year-olds aside from this charmer. I wanted to laugh. I thought it was hilarious, and I definitely value humor. But I could not let him use his creativity to dupe me! I am the parent! I am in charge! I had to place firm boundaries.
"Oh yeah," I said, "Well I wish you were a slug and I was a salt shaker!"
Yeah, I know, not very grown up of me, but sometimes you have to fight fire with fire!
This conundrum surrounding creativity is something I am up against with all three of my kids. For my lovely brood, creativity often involves the sinister. the mischievous, or the forbidden. Creativity that is safe and fun is just too blase. The kids asked me one day if they could use the scrap lumber and some tarps from behind the garage to make a catapult and shoot the chickens across the yard. I said no (suck that Reggio!) But then I suggested that they use the same materials to build a fort. "No, that's boring. Can we watch TV?"
Sometimes, I wish I was an ant.....
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