Sun 25 Sep 2011
That totally immature thing I do.
Posted by Erin under Daily Life
[2] Comments
So. I have this totally immature thing I do. When I am frustrated by some task or object, I reach a certain point where I yell “AARRRGH!” and then do some angry dismissive gesture, such as throwing my hands in the air, stomping a foot, or even, in my most loosey-goosey phases, flipping the offending object the bird. My one-second tantrum defuses the stress and makes me laugh, and I can move on or try again. I realize it is really unattractive behavior, but it is in the privacy of my own home. It works for me! Or rather, it worked. Past tense.
Now I have a perceptive two-year-old observer in the privacy of my own home. She has witnessed my one-second tantrums once or twice a week for her whole life, and now she enacts them three or four times a day, in response her own frustrations. Of course, yelling AARRGH! and making an angry gesture is completely appropriate behavior for a two-year-old. But boy, was there a sinking feeling in my stomach when I finally recognized that Abi AAARRGH as my own personal immature adult AAARRRGH. Same volume, same duration, same emphasis, same everything. She thinks this is what people are supposed do when they are frustrated! Whoops. Do as I say and not as I do, dear child.

That has been our experience, too. Even an innocuous, “Doggone it!” followed by a frustrated slap of the thigh becomes startlingly disturbing when it’s reenacted by a 2yo. Or how badly even a only-slightly-rude word like “crap” sounds when coming from the mouth of your toddler. Ugh.
Aaaahhhh parenthood, there have been many times my not so little one’s anymore, have given me a mirror image of me. It has, and continues to be, a humbling experience which opens me up to many moments of “Crap! I still need to work on that! and Crap, I just said Crap, again!”
Recently, I was working in a kindergarten classroom, watching the children un-pack their backpacks and lunches. One little girl in particular was having a tough time getting her lunch bag out of her backpack, the teacher asked,”Taron, is everything okay? Do you need some help?” I watched as this little blonde haired beauty with a lisp yelled out,”I’m tryin’ to get this freakin’ luchbag out of my backpack!” Her eyes got real big as she looked to her teacher as if she had said the “real” thing. Her teacher faught to keep a straight face as she asked,”Taron, should we use those words in class?” To which Taron replied,”No, sorry.”