Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts

On Saying the Wrong Thing (and Maybe the Right Thing, Too)

Oct 10, 2014

We have become so worried about saying the wrong thing that sometimes we don't say anything at all. And that's the bigger tragedy. Say something and we open the door of friendship.

As someone who is perpetually terrified of saying the wrong thing, you'd think I'd be grateful for lists such as, "10 Things Not to Say to [pregnant women, new moms, infertile couples, grieving friends, breastfeeding moms, single acquaintances, etc. etc. etc.]. But no. Rather, they increase my anxiety: if there are that many things I can't say to that many different people, then what can I say and to whom?

Has the old adage of "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all" been condensed to "Don't Say Anything"?

I'm seeing these types of lists and advice posts more and more frequently, and every time I do, I cringe just a little. I have to wonder: In eliminating all the questions, advice, and comments that might be taken the wrong way, are we silencing the very words which might bind us together and deepen our connections with one another?

An obvious response to this would be, Just make sure you're saying kind words. However, the thing about these lists is that, taken one at a time, most of the off-limit comments are not truly mean.

It may be true that if you ask a new mom how her new baby is sleeping at night, she might take offense. Perhaps she only got a combined total of thirty minutes of sleep the night before, and she's sure your question is really your way of rubbing in the fact that your baby slept through the night at two weeks old. So if you follow the advice to never bring up a baby's sleeping habits around a new mom, you won't run the risk of offending her. But then again, if you avoid the topic, you will most certainly miss the opportunity to let her cry her exhausted tears on your sympathetic shoulder. And if I had to choose, I'd say the latter is the greater tragedy.

Mike has an abundance of aunts (seriously, who wouldn't want an abundance of aunts?!), all of them kind and experienced and wonderfully wise. One time one of them said (and I'm paraphrasing) that we have to be willing to talk about the weaknesses that make us feel vulnerable because that's how we connect with one another. And that's true. But in my opinion, it is equally important to ask the questions or offer the words that make us feel vulnerable. It's hard, but sometimes we have to risk saying the wrong thing in order to ever say the right thing.

Of course I've received my fair share of comments that seemed tactless, thoughtless, or even rude. For the sake of illustration,  I'll give one small example, one that (happily for you) isn't steeped in too much emotional drama:

Aaron started first grade this year. He's going to a different elementary school than the one we're zoned for. During the past several months, I've had friends, neighbors, and family members ask me where Aaron is going to school, and when I tell them, they're always very curious about our decision. Consequently, I always feel like I have to add a dozen justifications for why he is going to that school instead of the one in our neighborhood.

Maybe I should write a post: 10 Things Not to Say to a Mom Who Has Just Spent an Entire Year Trying to Decide What To Do For Her Six-Year-Old Son's Education. Because sometimes, I admit, I've felt a little defensive.

But if I wrote that post, and if you read it, and if you applied everything you read and avoided the subject of education completely, I would truly be missing out--on the chance to hear another perspective, to hash out my doubts and insecurities, and to discover commonalities. And I wouldn't miss out on that for the world.

Okay, one more example. Yesterday I looked out on the backyard to find that Maxwell had turned on the hose. Again. All summer long, he's been turning it on, getting himself all wet, and leaving it running until I discover it many hours later. I've told him again and again that he can't turn it on without asking me. So I informed him that he'd have to go inside. And he proceeded to run away. Of course. He ran into the front yard, and our neighbor, who was watching, laughed and said, "He'll be grown up before you know it."

I'm pretty sure that comment is on all of the 10 Things Not to Say to a Mom of a Four-Year-Old lists, especially if you've never had a to deal with a four-year-old of your own. But oh, I'm so glad Kristy obviously hadn't read or applied that advice. If she'd made some safe comment about the beautiful weather or just pretended not to see me, I know I wouldn't have had any reason to smile in that moment. And sometimes, a little smile to diffuse the tension can go a long way.

Of course there are some things you should never say to new moms or old dads or anyone else, but I would hope you wouldn't need a list to know what those things are. And the truth is, the kinds of people who like to make mean-spirited comments are going to make them regardless of a list being out there that says that they shouldn't.

In the end, we're just imperfect people making imperfect connections. So please, ask me about my baby's sleep patterns or my children's education. Remind me that small ones grow up too fast and that life is too short. I'll do the same, and together we'll strengthen those life-saving, life-giving, and live-enriching ties.

KidPages: Bear and Bee

Feb 19, 2014

I generally like to write about at least three picture books in a KidPages post. I think it makes it nice for those of you who want to read the books to be able to pick up several at one time from the hold shelf. But I recently realized this self-imposed "rule" was actually making me write about fewer books because it required more of a time commitment. And there are so many good books I want to talk about! So from now on, expect to see more single reviews of picture books on this blog (or until I decide that's not working very well either).


Bear and Bee by Sergio Ruzzier was one of those rare books that took no warming up to. It didn't require multiple readings to endear itself to me. It didn't even take multiple pages. In fact, I can tell you the exact moment when I said to myself, This book is a treasure.

The book begins with Bear, who says, "I'm hungry." He spies a beehive and exclaims, "Mmm . . . Honey!" Bee, who is flying close by, asks, "Would you like some honey?" Bear says he would love some, "But what about the bee?" It is at that moment the reader realizes poor Bear has never met a bee before. It was also at that moment I realized this was far from the run-of-the-mill friendship book I was expecting.

Bee investigates a little further and finds out that Bear thinks bees are big monsters with large teeth and sharp claws. Bee points out that Bear is big with large teeth and sharp claws. Bear jumps to the irrational (and hilariously funny) conclusion that he must be a bee!

Things are finally resolved, and in the end, this story does in fact turn out to be about friendship. But it is much more than just that. It is about misconceptions and the danger of preconceived ideas. It is about keeping an open mind and not judging too quickly. It was a message I could appreciate and relate to since I have made many false assumptions about people based on my first impressions of them. It was also a story Bradley (2.5), Maxwell (almost 4), and Aaron (5.5) could all hear and enjoy and apply.

I honestly thought it might be too simple for Aaron (or at least appear that way to him). The text is so sparse and the illustrations are so delightfully juvenile. But he loved it. In fact, after I finished reading it, he immediately sat back down on the bed and read it again to Maxwell. I think the moment in the story I already mentioned ("But what about the bee?") caught him by surprise as much as it did me. Everything about the situation was just so funny, and if there are two things Aaron loves from a story, it's surprise and humor.

I also love that this will be an easy book for us to return to when one of us is having a difficult time accepting something new. I can say something like, "Remember Bear? He had no idea what a bee was. And once he found out, he was really happy to meet one. Maybe we should __________ [say hi, try this new food, go down the slide, etc.]."

A book that is surprising, funny, has a great message, AND can be read in under three minutes?! That's a winner for sure.
Proudly designed by Mlekoshi playground