Whole-Brain Child

I just finished reading my tenth book this year called The Whole-Brain Child: 12 Revolutionary Strategies to Nurture Your Child’s Developing Mind, Survive Everyday Parenting Struggles, and Help Your Family Thrive, by Daniel J. Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson. While I did find it annoying and almost exhausting when they would keep saying “the left brain does this,” “the right brain does that,” and the upstairs/downstairs brain does y and z, I did find a lot of the tips to be very compelling and summed up in easy-to-digest-and-understand ways. Also, I think recent science has debunked the notion that different hemispheres and parts of the brain operate independently, as the brain is far more complex than that: the brain’s different hemispheres are not, in reality, like two separate personas taking turns thinking and processing information. In pretty much every situation, you are using both sides. What does hold water is that as young brains are developing, they are far more emotional than they are rational, and that’s where parents can help guide their children in the right direction. We can help them understand that an emotion is a temporary state and does not define them as people; we can help them understand the importance of things like a routine, sharing with others, and caring for others. Although the jargon and framing was a bit annoying and questionable, I did enjoy the book overall and think it does have a lot of practical applications, especially the last part, which has a “worksheet” you can use to apply their recommended strategies to kids of specific age ranges.

I really enjoyed the ending of the book, too, where the authors say this:

“It’s not how our parents raised us, or how many parenting books we’ve read. It’s actually how well we’ve made sense of our experiences with our own parents and how sensitive we are to our children that most powerfully influence our relationship with our kids, and therefore how well they thrive. It all comes down to what we call our life narrative, the story we tell when we look at who we are and how we’ve become the person that we are … Our life narrative determines our feelings about our past, our understanding of why people (like our parents) behaved as they did, and our awareness of the way those events have impacted our development into adulthood. When we have a coherent life narrative, we have made sense of how the past has contributed to who we are and what we do.”

People who don’t “get it” and lack empathy and deep emotional understanding always say, “the past is in the past.” The reality is that it actually isn’t because as the authors say here, the past and your past experiences shape who you are and how you see and interact with the world today and into the future. I personally found pregnancy and motherhood very triggering in a lot of ways because it forced me to reckon with my past experiences as a child with my mercurial, emotionally immature parents. I had to do a lot of thinking about what kind of parent I wanted to be, what I wanted to emulate of my parents, and what I wanted to steer far away from. In the most random moments, I would be reminded of some negative, toxic experience I had with my mom or dad, or that I witnessed between my parents and Ed, and I’d just feel anger and disgust that something so senseless and psychologically damaging could have happened. And I’d think to myself, I never, ever want Kaia to know what that type of treatment is like, ever.

I know why my parents are the way they are: my dad had absentee parents who left him at home as a latchkey kid to fend, feed, and care for himself. One parent was what my aunt called “like Dr. Jekyll and Hyde,” emotionally void and always distant; the other parent constantly criticized everything and everyone because nothing was ever good enough. So my dad became fiercely independent and expected his kids to be the same; he refused to teach us anything and expected us to learn everything on our own (one of Ed’s most painful memories that he used to recount to me from time to time was the morning of his elementary school graduation. Ed had never worn a tie before, but my mom wanted him to wear one for the ceremony. He asked my dad to help him. My dad snorted in response and said, “If you don’t know how to tie your own tie, you shouldn’t even be graduating”). My mom’s dad died when she was young, and her mom didn’t even want her because she was not only the youngest, but a girl. I’ve come to terms with how they are who they are; I’m an adult now, after all. I just don’t think I have to suffer their verbal beatings all the time anymore.

Awareness comes first. Action is in little steps every day. I’m just trying my best to be the best parent I can be, and I hope when Kaia is an adult that she will still want to spend time with me and enjoy it. The book suggests trying to find mutually fun things that you can do with your child as they get older that are fitting for their stage of development/age. Otherwise, they say, your child as an adult may not want to have anything to do with you because they will have nothing to do with you! That could not be truer for me: my parents and I literally have nothing we can do together other than eat, even when I’ve attempted to take them on light hikes and walks. Even a walk is not something they want to do altogether. That’s sad, isn’t it?

Toddlers making sense of the world and discussing amongst their stuffed animal friends

I hope one day, when Kaia is in elementary school, middle school, high school, and an adult that I will not forget her cute toddler moments, soaking in all her surroundings and making sense of the world. Being able to watch her grow every day and develop in the most seemingly small ways has been beyond rewarding, more fun and exciting than I’d ever really thought about when I was trying to conceive and when I was pregnant. It is actually even more exhilarating now than theoretically, which is saying quite a lot. But it’s not even just witnessing and being a part of her growth and development that is so amazing; it is also being forced into a moment with her and ultimately enjoying and living in that moment that is so great. As adults, we always have so many things on our plates, things to worry and stress over, things to plan for in the next day, week, month, year, that we often forget to really enjoy and be in a single moment. But toddlers, given how developed their brains are, fully and completely live in the moment; they have no conception of tomorrow or any future. And for us to really enjoy this time with them, we, too, must live in the moment. Otherwise, this time will pass, and soon, they will be grown adults who don’t want to spend as much time with us or cuddle with us anymore.

One of the things I love most is being in the same room or the room next door to where Kaia is when she’s playing with her stuffed animals. I love listening to what she says to them and how she addresses them. Her mouse stuffed animal is named RaRa (she named the mouse after I asked her one day), and she wears a red sweater with a button. She was telling RaRa today that it was time to get ready for bed.

“Okay, time to go to sleep, RaRa mouse!” Kaia declared while climbing onto her bed and grabbing RaRa. “Xi zao (take a bath), shua ya (brush teeth), shu tou (comb hair), suck nose. Do you want to take off your sweater? I help you take off your sweater for bed.”

I looked over at her, and she glanced back at me and stopped talking, but she continued to try to remove RaRa’s red sweater. She then moved onto her kangaroo, which holds an Australian flag that you can remove. She patted the kangaroo gently on his head and back and said, “Kangaroo, are you all done with your flag? Can I have it?” Then, she proceeded to take the flag away from the kangaroo and play with the flag.

A few mornings this week, I’ve taken Kaia to school, which means I also get to see her teacher. She’s usually not there at pickup since she leaves at 4:30 given her schedule. So it’s an opportunity to ask how Kaia is doing and to hear anything interesting she wants to share. Her teacher told me that Kaia is constantly chatting with her and all the kids all day long: she is a true chatterbox. And she’s very helpful and supportive to the teachers as well as her classmates. When other kids are upset or having tantrums, Kaia goes to them and tells them, “It’s okay, (insert name). Don’t cry. Do you want to go over there and take a break?” Sometimes, she even offers them a hug or to hold their hand.

My baby is blossoming into this sweet, empathetic, caring human. I could not be prouder.

Toddler carousel time: the Instagram “experience” vs. the real experience

I had read about the magical SeaGlass Carousel downtown at Battery Park, how all the glittering animals were from the sea and how glorious the carousel looked just at dusk when all the colorful lights came on. It looked like this picture-perfect Instagram photo op for parents with young children. Given how early Kaia’s bedtime is, I figured we’d wait until she was a bit older to get on this carousel during the evening time. A closer carousel option for daytime would be the one at Central Park, and so today, we went with her school bestie and his parents there for one last playdate before their big move to a Jersey suburb.

Her classmate’s parent suggested we get at least 2-3 tickets each (one per rider, including the adult) because the kids would likely want more than a single ride. I watched Kaia as she observed the carousel go round and round, so I thought she’d enjoy it once we were on. But… how wrong I was. As soon as we got on with her friend and his parent, it was total hell: I tried to get her on a horse, but she screamed that she didn’t want to go on and screamed and cried endless tears for the entire duration of the first ride. Chris and her bestie’s mom were observing, and they wondered if the crying child was Kaia… and yes, they were right. Chris captured a bit of the screaming on video, just to “document” the first carousel ride experience, and I was completely worn out after just one ride of having Kaia scream in my ear and battle me to get off the moving carousel.

The second ride was a lot better: Chris came on board and judiciously chose to have Kaia sit on the chariot with the friend and parent. She happily got on and got off when the carousel stopped. Then, the third and final ride was with me again. She was happy for the entire ride, once again in the chariot, but when it was time to get off, she absolutely did NOT want to get off. And she screamed and yelled that she didn’t want to get off this time. I literally had to drag her off. The operators gave me sympathetic looks as I got off and thanked them.

“I should have warned you ahead of time that the first ride would be brutal,” her bestie’s dad told me. “The first ride, they scream and cry bloody murder and hate every second. Then, the second ride, they have fun. The third ride, they love it so much that they refuse to get off. It’s like a textbook experience, ride by ride. Kaia is the same as Jacob.”

Welp. It goes without saying that we did not capture any good photos during these carousel rides. But hey, maybe in a couple years, we’ll do better?

“Turn this way”

Two nights ago, it took almost 2.5 hours after story time to get Kaia to fully fall asleep. I was nearly at my wit’s end, but had to keep taking deep breaths and reminding myself, this is just a phase. This, too, will pass. And one day, she will not be so little anymore. But in the meantime, it was kind of hard to get mad at her because she constantly insisted on cuddling, hugging, and poking my face and nose. And every time I tried to face my back to her, she would pull my shoulder towards her and say, “turn this way.” It was almost as though she’d gone through this same exercise with a classmate at school during nap time and wanted to now test it out on her mama!

She finally fell asleep. And when I emerged from her bedroom to find Chris on his computer on the couch, he said to me, “That’s what the three muffins did to her. They gave her too much energy!”

I had just baked a new variation of my apple banana carrot mini muffins for her — they had three types of flour (all-purpose, whole wheat, and spelt), two types of seeds (ground flaxseed and whole toasted sunflower seeds), and of course, three types of fruit and veggie (apple, banana, and carrot). They came out very bouncy and moist, with just enough sweetness to be tasty and healthy at the same time. While I’m happy she enjoyed them, next time, she only gets them during the day time and not before bed!

Independent toy store experience

While my friend was visiting last month, she popped into a cute independent toy shop in Chelsea and bought Kaia some gifts. One of the gifts was a stuffed rabbit, which, while sweet and cute and incredibly soft, was not something that I thought Kaia needed more of; she has endless stuffed animals, and only a select few that she has any amount of attachment to. So I was grateful that my friend was thoughtful enough to provide a gift receipt. I went downtown to exchange the rabbit for something else. When I entered the shop, I was not only surprised to see how large the shop was, but just the sheer variety of toys and books for so many ages. And it suddenly dawned on me that I had never really been in any toy store for years, much less an independent one. This toy store was most definitely a rarity in today’s day and age.

Most of the purchases we do are online now; it’s the way most of us live and operate. With online shopping being so readily available and Amazon providing so much convenience with a few clicks to purchase (plus free shipping with Prime, or a relatively low minimum for free shipping), it’s just too easy. But as I was perusing all the endless options in the shop yesterday and spending way more time than I’d originally imagined going through potential options, I realized how much value is lost with online shopping; you don’t get to actually see, touch, feel, even hold items in your hand. When you buy a pair of earrings online, they can seem sparkly and pretty… until you receive them in the mail and the gemstones are so tiny that you can barely see them; plus, the size seems almost half of what they looked like on the model’s ear in the online photo you viewed. The same goes with toys: the concept of something like a wooden tea time play set may seem fun (and sustainable); but then you get it delivered, and it seems like flimsy garbage that might give your toddler splinters. There are some things that are definitely better purchased after seeing it in person.

I ended up replacing the stuffed rabbit with a wooden coffee maker play set of the same value (I will never get over how expensive good quality stuffed animals can be!!). I thought it would be a good complement to the cooking/dining play set that I recently got for Kaia from our local Buy Nothing group; she really loves that set and “cooking with mummy.” She played with the coffee set a bit tonight and seems to already enjoy it. At this age and stage of development, there’s a lot of value in “pretend play,” and I hope that these toys can help broaden Pookster’s imagination.

When toddlers intervene when their parents are fighting

 I think it goes without saying that all couples fight. Therefore, it would also be true that all parents fight. Sometimes, the fights are about substantial matters, like what path forward to move your child into, money, career, etc. Other times, they’re about a whole lot of nothing. In our cases, it’s usually about a misinterpretation over something said/insinuated, or about the method of arguing in itself. Chris likes to assume he’s always right, and he gets extremely defensive when I point out something he does that I don’t like or disagree with. I tell him that he needs to stop for a moment and actually think about what I’m critiquing about him instead of just simply denying it and attacking me back. He doesn’t. And the argument goes on. 

I think about my childhood a lot when I think about the way I am. It’s a bit Freudian to say, but most of the reasons we think the way we think and do as we do are rooted in how we were raised. Growing up, because I was in an environment where I was pretty much constantly criticized by my parents for the most benign or inane things, criticism was like having paint on the walls — it was just always there, like the furniture. And so because of that, when I do get any type of critique, I’m more likely than Chris to think about the validity of the critique and how true it actually is. I do not immediately assume it’s true, but I also do not immediately deny its validity.

Kaia always knows when we’re arguing or having a heated discussion. She clearly gets in the middle of fights over toys and the related at school, and she parrots what her teacher says while we’re arguing: “Stop it right now!” “Knock it off!” “Stop it, everyone!” “No, no, no!” “Everybody, CALM DOWN!” More often than not, Kaia intervening serves as comic relief. But other times, I wonder what impact listening to our arguing really has on her. In the realm of arguing, I’d probably say that our arguing is “low impact,” as in, low overall toxicity. But there’s always the question of: how do you model good arguing and conflict resolution to your child so that she grows up to argue in a rational, well-thought-out, relatively respectable way? An argument in a healthy relationship is supposed to have a resolution of some sort. So if we don’t have a real resolution that effects change moving forward, are we actually modeling healthy arguing to her? This is likely a work in progress, especially as she is developing her language and comprehension skills every day. If there is any motivation to changing how we argue and how we resolve conflicts, then she should be the motivator.

Toddler Kaia eats eggs for the first time

As a baby, Kaia ate eggs in different ways: strips, omelettes, scrambles. Even back then, she didn’t seem to be a fan of them when they were hard boiled, though she did gobble them up when they were marinated in a Vietnamese caramelized pork belly braise. But after she turned one, she pretty much refused eggs no matter which way they were presented, and I have a feeling it’s because she wasn’t a fan of their squishy texture. Today, I realized I had some languishing tomatoes in my vegetable drawer in the fridge, so I tossed them into a hot pan with leftover scallions, some minced pork, and eggs to make a very saucy tomato, pork, and egg scramble. Because of all the liquid that came out of the tomatoes, the eggs were a lot runnier and soupy than I had hoped; they begged for some rice to soak up all the juices. When lunch time rolled around, Kaia was being fussy with the food we presented to her, so I randomly offered her some of the eggs, thinking she’d definitely reject them. But surprisingly, she actually ate a really good-sized helping. First, she took a small pea-sized amount and put it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then, she grabbed some more out of the bowl I presented and stuffed more in her mouth. I added some more onto her silicone plate, and she continued to eat it until there were just tiny remnants left. And in the end, she ate a very healthy toddler-sized portion of my tomato scramble.

We tend to assume our kids won’t eat things. We think that after multiple times of rejection, they will just keep rejecting. But it takes a lot perseverance as parents and caregivers to just keep offering a rejected food every time it’s on the menu, even if it’s literally just showing them the food and having them push it away. It takes just a few seconds of our effort. Because you never know when your child might actually say “yes” again.

“Did you have a good gym?” 

Kaia is speaking in longer, fuller sentences each day. I’m sure a lot of the influence is from school where she hears interactions between teachers and administrators all the time. She also hears us interact at home and likes to mimic us. 

One thing she’s been doing when she’s having breakfast on weekday mornings is yell out for me when I’m coming in through the door, back from my workout at the gym. “Hi, Mummy-Dear!” she will call out before she even sees me. “Did you have a good gym?” 

It’s really cute. Sometimes, she will ask, “Did you have a good day?” at the end of the day when she sees me. And because she knows I am at the gym when she’s waking up and eating breakfast since Chris tells her, she will incorrectly ask if I had a good “gym.” We should probably teach her to say “workout” instead of “gym,” but I can’t help but smile and gush over how adorable this incorrect speech is. It’s like how now that she’s over 2, I still miss the days when she would say “bluey” for blueberry or “mangi” for mango. The speech mistakes are part of the growth, and while I’m happy she learns the correct form of speech, I still reminisce on the incorrect times. 

When your toddler comes home with a bite mark on her back

Yesterday when reviewing the daily report from school, Chris noticed that there was an “incident” report recorded with a photo of Kaia’s back, noting that Kaia had been injured by a classmate. There was a typo in the report, so I wasn’t sure exactly what happened until I spoke with the teacher at drop off this morning. The teacher let me know that Kaia and a classmate were fighting over the same toy, and Kaia had an iron grip on it. The other child retaliated by biting her in the middle of her back, which resulted in Kaia crying and having a lingering red mark on her back.

“Kaia cried, and I felt so terrible because she never cries!” the teacher said to me, with a frown on her face.

I didn’t realize it was a bite from the original report because of the typo. But I did notice the mark when I gave her a bath. The bite was the size of a large strawberry, and it seemed weird that it would have been so dark and red. At first, I wondered what toy would have left such a mark. Now that I found out it was a bite from another child, the mark made much more sense.

At this age, kids don’t always understand what you are trying to say to them, and you definitely do not always understand them. They’re still learning what is considered “appropriate” vs “inappropriate” behavior with family, friends, and classmates, and so it’s hard to fault them when things like this happen. I shrugged it off and told the teacher I wasn’t that concerned. Toddlers will be toddlers. She said she felt relieved after I said this.

“Not all parents let these things go,” she said with a sigh. “They ask us how we couldn’t have prevented it from happening!”

With babies and toddlers, things like this happen in just seconds, and you can’t be everywhere all at once. Taking care of littles can be very all-encompassing and exhausting. We just have to let these things go and move on.

“Don’t get lost, Mummy dear”

Babies and toddlers are true human sponges. They are always soaking up and in every single thing around them all the time, whether we are cognizant of it or not. Because I have a very loving (facetious) husband, most of the time when we part and I am leaving the apartment, he will hug or kiss me and say, “don’t get lost!” Kaia has clearly noticed this. So this morning, when I was getting ready to go to the gym as Chris was getting her out the door to go to school, she ran to me to give me a goodbye hug and kiss, and after she looked at me square in the eyes, smiled, and said, “don’t get lost, mummy dear!”

While getting her ready, she will notice that one of us is not wearing a coat or shoes, so she will remind us: “Shoes on, Daddy-ma!” or “Put your jacket on, Mummy dear!” Sometimes, she will even giggle and say, “Mommy dear, guai guai ah!” (in other words, loosely translated as “you be good/you be well-behaved!”

For better or for worse, she is learning most of these things from her own parents. Every time something new like this happens, I can’t help but crack up and just want to squeeze her close. It’s too adorable and sweet, even if it can be a little annoying at times.