The greatest moment for me as a first-time expectant mother was when I was sick. Yeah, sounds strange, I know. It may have been a stomach bug or nasty cold symptoms, I can’t remember, but I do remember aches and pain. 

With concern, I went to see my Obgyn. “Though I think I know the answer,” I asked her, kneading my hands, “Does the fetus feel what I’m feeling?”

“No,” she smiled, “He gets your blood and your nutrients. He does not feel anything you’re feeling.”

I relaxed. But more than that. As I left the office, I felt elated as well as relieved. That declaration made it crystal clear that the person growing inside of me, that I had become a mere vessel for, was NOT me. Sure, he might share some random bits of my genetic code, but he was a separate individual with separate feelings and desires and personality and interests. I loved it and couldn’t wait to meet him. 

That was the first of many great lessons I’ve learned about parenting—which ain’t for sissies!—and remains one of the greatest. It meant that I knew nothing about this child I was soon to meet. That I just needed to pay attention and get to know him so I could help facilitate him into becoming a confident version of himself. 

There were many other related lessons along the way to remind me not to assume and pigeonhole my children as being this way or that, being good or bad at this or that. For example, my older son was naturally a little quiet. He didn’t like being in controlled group settings. During story time at the local library, we had to stand in the adjacent room and not sit among the other kids and parents. And yet when we got home, he could recite the story to me in detail. At Music Together class, he wanted no part of that circle of kids. However, at home, he could sing every lyric of every song. I called him my little Lert, because he was so alert, taking in experiences like a sponge. But I started to think of him as shy. 

Then one day, I was on the school campus with him. Every kid that passed us in the hallway said hi to him. And I realized quiet isn’t the same as shy. AND don’t pigeonhole your kids, Linda! Don’t assume.

Part of paying attention to kids is to listen to them. And children are smart. They may not have experience, but they’re observant and imaginative. 

The first day of kindergarten for your eldest child is a day of tears…for the parent. It’s a big deal, that separation, that pull on the invisible but ever-present umbilical cord. We got through day one okay. 

Day two was hell.

My son ran to the other side of the playground yelling, refusing to go inside. I tried soothing, stern and direct, asking questions, bribing, waiting, all the usual tactics. The bell rang, and all the other kids followed the teacher into the building. Parents were still clustered around chatting on the blacktop. I recognized another mom from orientation and knew she had older kids. 

“Excuse me,” I said to her in desperation, “I can’t get my son to go inside. Could you just talk to him?”

She asked him about his backpack. He told her about it and as he did, he calmed down. I’ve been grateful to that mom ever since, and she’s still a friend. 

Finally, I just asked my son. (Duh!) 

“What would help you to be able to go inside?”

His answer was sheer brilliance. He suggested we go to the main office to check out a stuffed otter. That was the school mascot, and there were at least a half a dozen different plush otters on the bench in the office for kids needing some soothing. 

He picked one out that he liked. When I asked the administrative assistant if we could check it out, she paused and looked at my son and me.

“Nobody’s ever asked that before.”

Nonetheless, she took out a piece of paper, and I told her his teacher’s name and his name. 

Hugging the Otter to his chest, we made our way to his classroom where his teacher ushered him in gently with a smile. 

My son had come up with such a clever solution, one I would never have thought of.

It’s so important to listen to our children. And for so many reasons. To better understand them and their needs (and to avoid pigeonholing), to let them know they are heard, to help them become accustom to sharing their opinions and talking about their lives, to validate their feelings. Because feelings are never wrong. They might just make us uncomfortable. We might feel differently. But they’re just feelings.

The best parenting book I ever bought was How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish. It helps parents do just that, listen and validate kids’ feelings. 

I’m still learning about my children. That same son will be going off to college next year. He has several interests but isn’t sure what he’s going to do yet, what profession or vocation he might work towards. And that’s okay with me. He’ll find his way. And I can’t wait to see what his choices are.