Action and Reaction
Newton’s 3rd law states that “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”
Well, one of the many things I've learned in my parenthood is how we talk and react to our kids in certain situations go a long way in influencing the end result. I learned right away not to talk "baby talk" to the kids, rather to speak in proper tones (using shorter words of course) as opposed to acting all cute. It’s funny how grown adults will suddenly use broken sentences and high-pitched voices to communicate with kids.
Similarly, I'm learning not to "freak out" when one of the boys gets hurt...whether it be falling off the bed (Jake), falling off the pew (Jake), or falling off the counter and breaking his arm (Jake). So when, during our hockey game outside yesterday, I unleashed a wicked backhand that ricocheted off the top of Sean's head, I knew I had to react quickly. Before he had a chance to drop like he was shot, I noticed he snuck a quick look at me to see my reaction. I dropped my stick and went into my best Canuck Trainer impression and pretended I was Mike Burnstein coming out to check on Roberto Luongo. Sure enough, after a couple of encouraging words and a reassuring pat on the head, we were back in business. Too bad I had to give back the catcher’s mask from our softball season that ended in June!
I remember when I was younger, I would usually “play up” the severity of injuries for a little bit more attention. Sometimes it worked, other times it didn’t. Even today, I’ll pretend to trip just to see if anyone will react or help me up. Most of my friends are used to these shenanigans, thus I’m left to pick myself up and continue on like nothing happened. It’s like the boy who cried wolf!
Then, earlier tonight I was visiting my friend Lou to pick up a portable sound system for work. While we were chatting, Sean was proving his athletic prowess by leaping off of a concrete ledge, trying to touch the back of my head (I was standing about 5 feet away from him). On one particular jump (coincidentally the one right after I told him to stop) he lost his balance and proved his prowess at hitting the pavement. Hard. He got up and brushed himself off (sneaking a quick glance for my reaction I’m sure). I asked him if he was ok as we all stared at his knee, eagerly anticipating the inevitable flow of blood. It never really came, much to Sean’s delight (and all of ours). Now a few years ago, I would have likely either jumped to help him up, or given him a “see what happens when you don’t listen to me” look. I’m not sure either of them would have a positive effect.
After back-to-back incidents, I asked Sean how he felt. He told me that he felt like whining but instead he decided to shake and move his leg around. And he didn’t cry because he is a strong boy.
Probably a lot stronger than his Dad!
Well, one of the many things I've learned in my parenthood is how we talk and react to our kids in certain situations go a long way in influencing the end result. I learned right away not to talk "baby talk" to the kids, rather to speak in proper tones (using shorter words of course) as opposed to acting all cute. It’s funny how grown adults will suddenly use broken sentences and high-pitched voices to communicate with kids.
Similarly, I'm learning not to "freak out" when one of the boys gets hurt...whether it be falling off the bed (Jake), falling off the pew (Jake), or falling off the counter and breaking his arm (Jake). So when, during our hockey game outside yesterday, I unleashed a wicked backhand that ricocheted off the top of Sean's head, I knew I had to react quickly. Before he had a chance to drop like he was shot, I noticed he snuck a quick look at me to see my reaction. I dropped my stick and went into my best Canuck Trainer impression and pretended I was Mike Burnstein coming out to check on Roberto Luongo. Sure enough, after a couple of encouraging words and a reassuring pat on the head, we were back in business. Too bad I had to give back the catcher’s mask from our softball season that ended in June!
I remember when I was younger, I would usually “play up” the severity of injuries for a little bit more attention. Sometimes it worked, other times it didn’t. Even today, I’ll pretend to trip just to see if anyone will react or help me up. Most of my friends are used to these shenanigans, thus I’m left to pick myself up and continue on like nothing happened. It’s like the boy who cried wolf!
Then, earlier tonight I was visiting my friend Lou to pick up a portable sound system for work. While we were chatting, Sean was proving his athletic prowess by leaping off of a concrete ledge, trying to touch the back of my head (I was standing about 5 feet away from him). On one particular jump (coincidentally the one right after I told him to stop) he lost his balance and proved his prowess at hitting the pavement. Hard. He got up and brushed himself off (sneaking a quick glance for my reaction I’m sure). I asked him if he was ok as we all stared at his knee, eagerly anticipating the inevitable flow of blood. It never really came, much to Sean’s delight (and all of ours). Now a few years ago, I would have likely either jumped to help him up, or given him a “see what happens when you don’t listen to me” look. I’m not sure either of them would have a positive effect.
After back-to-back incidents, I asked Sean how he felt. He told me that he felt like whining but instead he decided to shake and move his leg around. And he didn’t cry because he is a strong boy.
Probably a lot stronger than his Dad!
posted by Clay at 6:20 PM
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