In the ideal world, we would always be able to watch children interacting, and we’d be able to step in graciously and help them learn the skills. Or we’d have a child respond to us by hitting us in the face, and we’d be able to gently correct him and listen to his underlying need. But the problem with real life is that we come with baggage: when children do certain things, it pushes our buttons. Biting is a big button-pusher, but it can be anything: whining, disobeying, interrupting, hitting, hair-grabbing, face-scratching. And when they do it over and over and over again, we start to lose it. We are no longer the gracious, graceful parent/caregiver that we imagined being the night before. I firmly believe that children come to us in order to help US grow, and one of the main ways that they do this is by figuring out what our ‘buttons’ are, and pushing them over and over again. Each time is a separate chance to rise above our reactivity. But how do we do that?
One tool that I discovered for myself is this: when I notice that when a certain child does a certain thing and I have a visceral reaction (tightening of the stomach, flushing of the face, etc.), then I take a deep breath, and I imagine that behind me, and much larger than me, is the Goddess (or the Mother Mary, or the Father archetype, or whatever image feels good and right to you). In my mind she is standing there, about ten feet tall, and her arms are out in that classic Virgin Mary gesture. Then I consciously (either literally or in my imagination) take a step backward, into the Goddess. I am surrounded by her energy, and it fills me. I am not alone, I am being supported by love.
From this place of being supported, I look at the child in front of me and I ask what this child needs in order to learn and grow. It may be that I do the exact same thing that I would have done, but this way I’m doing it from a place of helping, instead of a place of anger or punishment. That makes all the difference.
I have to admit that I’m far from perfect about stepping back into the Goddess space. Many times I only think about how good it would have been, after the fact. But that’s the great thing about children, isn’t it: they will always give me many, many more times to practice.