Two dire needs of students baffle me during the school day; (a) snack time and (b) the necessity to put ice on the most minor of injuries. Granted, either or both aren't earth shattering, but I suppose it's the sense of impending doom that occurs when each is needed that throws me.
In the Middle Ages when I was a child, snack time didn't exist after kindergarten. One was expected to go all the way from breakfast to lunch, and from lunch to home time before eating. Now, I'm not denouncing the benefits of small, healthy noshes. I read the magazines. But just to let you know, I did survive the horrors of no snacking...and come to think of it, it's sort of like a cellphone...if you never have one, you don't know that you're missing it. I didn't have snacktime at school, and didn't know that I was supposed to be noshing. Miracles of miracles, I survived.
I simply cannot believe the horror on the faces of the kids if snack is, for whatever reason, late or cancelled. Class trips are always contentious, because the children know that it's possible that they won't get snack due to time constraints. Following the announcement that there will most likely be no time for snack, the kids, in lightening speed, travel through all five stages of grief: denial (Sure there'll be time for snack), anger (What do you mean, there'll be no time for snack!), bargaining (Can't we just take our lunchboxes on the bus?), depression (Really? No Snack? Ahhhhhwwww.) and finally, acceptance (Okay, let's go line up). It's a scary sight.
Not only did we not have snack all those years ago, but apparantly we didn't have ice, either. To my recollection, if we hurt ourselves, we got up, dusted ourselves off and went on. But those were uncivilized times, and now we have ice. In these modern times, the minute a child finds that a leaf has landed on him, he runs in horror, and complains wincing eyed to the teacher on duty, begging for a pass so that he can go to the office (along with an accomplice, two if it's cold outside, who will help the poor, pain riddled child) to get ice to treat the gaping wound. I admit, I can only handle this behaviour to a certain extent. When little Sarah Bernhardt or mini Rudolph Valentino approach me with their Oscar nominated kvetching, I ask them one simple question; If you were in your backyard now, or playing on your street, and the same thing happened to you, would you run inside your house to ask your mother or father for a piece of ice? The child then looks at me, smiles, turns around and runs off to play.
The absurdity of all of this begs the question; are we encouraging our children to feed into an already over-litigious society by teaching them to make mountains out of molehills? And furthermore, are we teaching them to be wusses by allowing them to complain about every boo-boo?
Perhaps. I don't remember if it was an article I read or if I had heared an expert on parenting discussing why a parent should not spank his child. Whichever it was, the person said that hitting is a result of the parent's frustration at himself. When a person feels internally stuck, there is a tendency to lash out at the person who is causing the frustration. The lesson to be learned is to deal with one's own frustration and not take it out on the child. Why am I going off on this tangent you ask? Because I'm wondering if there is a parallel. I'm wondering if our little ones complain about the little things because they are frustrated by the miniscule amount of free time we grownups have to spend with then and are vying for our attention. And I'm wondering if we grownups realize this subconsciously or otherwise and play into it as a way of giving our children the attention they deserve.
Ok, I hear you. You are saying that I am way off base and that this has nothing to do with a plea to spend time with them. Teaching one's child to get ice for a hangnail is instructing them to become proactive, self-sufficient and self-reliant. Children learn to self-advocate. It is part of the self-actualizing process, whereby children learn to respect themselves, and begin to confidently express their needs to others. You are, of course, correct. By the way, have you read, The Boy Who Cried Wolf lately?
As with almost everything, I think the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Our free time to spend with our children is becoming tragically limited. It is difficult to find time and ways to constructively show our affection and concern for our darlings. By reacting over the small stuff, children can quickly see that we care. Unfortunately, our good intentions tend to backfire, as children learn to model our behaviour and begin to sweat the small stuff too, hence the crying over melted ice on a potential blister. And at the same time, those same children are learning how to self-advocate. They know how to form a posse and rescue one in distress by lassoing them and hauling them off to the office for a bandaid. And that is pretty admirable.
In the end, the children will find their way. And wherever that place may be, you can be rest assured that they'll have ice.
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