Why toddlers are like empty boats

I’m holding myself back from delving too deeply into the “feral toddler” panic that certain media outlets have whipped up. But to paraphrase:  taking her cues from the French system (as she did regarding childcare ratios for the under-fives), Elizabeth Truss has decided that UK nurseries are too rowdy, and that small children should be more settled, calm, and taught more formally. I really can’t comment much on this as there is such a disparity between nurseries – some are overcrowded hellholes that I wouldn’t want to send my hamster to, while others are  kind, caring environments that alternate between “quiet time” and more boisterous playing. If you want to read more about it, there’s a good thread over on Mumsnet to read.

But I read an article by Leo Balbuta today (regular readers of this blog will know I’m a fan) which prompted something of a lightbulb moment. I’m going to copy some of the article here as he describes it beautifully:

“In her book Everyday Zen, Charlotte Joko Beck tells a story that I’ll paraphrase here:

“Imagine you’re rowing a boat on a foggy lake, and out of the fog comes another boat that crashes into you! At first you’re angry at the fool who crashed into you — what was he thinking! You just painted the boat. But then you notice the boat is empty, and the anger leaves … you’ll have to repaint the boat, that’s all, and you just row around the empty boat. But if there were a person steering the boat, we’d be angry!

“Here’s the thing: the boat is always empty. Whenever we interact with other people who might “do something to us” (be rude, ignore us, be too demanding, break our favorite coffee cup, etc.), we’re bumping into an empty boat. We just think there’s some fool in that boat who should have known better, but really it’s just a boat bumping into us, no harm intended by the boat.

“That’s a hard lesson to learn, because we tend to imbue the actions of others with a story of their intentions, and how they should have acted instead. We think they’re out to get us, or they should base their lives around being considerate to us and not offending us. But really they’re just doing their thing, without bad intent, and the boat just happens to bump into us.

“When we see things with this lens, they suddenly become emptied of anger and stress. Our boss was rude? Empty boat, just respond appropriately, don’t imbue with a story. Kid throws a tantrum? Empty boat, just breathe and find the appropriate, non-angry response.

“This is detachment. It’s seeing the actions and words of others as just phenomena happening outside of us, like a leaf falling or the wind blowing. We don’t get angry at the wind for blowing, and yet the blowing does affect us. Let the actions of your kid be the wind blowing — you just need to find an appropriate response, rather than being stressed that this phenomenon is happening.

“So when your kid is doing something other than what you’d like, let go of that desired outcome that’s stressing you out, and let go of the story you’ve imbued into their actions. Just think, “Empty boat, wind blowing.”

“And then give them a hug. Let love guide your actions. Teach, don’t control. Set an example of how they should behave with your compassionate response. They’re watching you, not listening to your words, and that’s how they learn.”

I absolutely love this – and of course, it’s applicable to all life situations, not just when the kids are driving you mad. It’s so easy to attribute negative intentions to other people’s actions – the word “thoughtless” is used as a pretty damning description of someone’s behaviour. But taken literally, it means the other person wasn’t thinking of harming you – knowing this, your reaction may be less hostile, more muted. My young children push my buttons all the time, but I will try to keep this in mind when they’re doing something I think they “shouldn’t’.

 

New starts

It’s not exactly a spring-like atmosphere outside, but there are green shoots appearing in our household. The most significant one is that, from the week after half term, B will be going to a childminder three mornings a week. This is to free up more time for work, whether employment from “proper” jobs, or continued freelance work. It’s a big deal as B has never been left with anyone other than family before – and then only very immediate family (i.e my mum). I am actually feeling more apprehensive about this than with his older brother.

B is lucky – due to a combination of circumstances, he’s been with one or the other of us at home for his first two years of life. I realise this is an incredibly privileged position these days and I am far from complaining. I actually think the time away from us will be great – new experiences, different stimulation (and – I hope – less hearing “just watch CBeebies while I cook this dinner/do the washing/answer this email”). But he is still incredibly clingy with me, and I doubt will view this latest development with total enthusiasm at the start. Plus being older he will be more able to express his displeasure, and put up more of a physical resistance.

But the good thing about change is that it happens in spite of us – and I am confident that the childminder (who is lovely and lives close/has kids the same age) will be great with him. Leaving his brother in nursery when he was one felt like a huge separation, and it was the beginning of a new stage for us all. This shift, although smaller (B will be spending fewer hours away from us than T) feels like the start of yet another stage. And, come September when T starts school, another will begin.

I am also secretly hoping that the extra stimulation will encourage him to sleep more at night. That may be a dream too far, though…

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I’ve been a bit quiet on this blog lately as I’ve been doing interview prep in my spare time, but this week I did pop along to Prozac Withdrawal to do a post on PND and mindfulness. Please have a read if you’ve got a moment and follow her!

Childcare – is increasing ratios really the answer?

Paying for childcare in the UK is hugely expensive. According to this BBC report, it accounts for over a quarter of the average British family’s salary, compared to 13% in Europe as a whole, and as little as 5% in Sweden. Making childcare more affordable is therefore a laudable policy of the coalition government. However, the suggestions by Education and Childcare minister Elizabeth Truss to increase the number of children a childminder can legally look after (and increase ratios in nurseries) to achieve this end seem spectacularly ill thought out.

Of course increasing ratios may have the desired effect – assuming, that is, that childminders are willing to take on more mindees for less money. If I was a childminder in this position I would expect to be paid significantly more, because not only would I be responsible for more children, but meeting their individual needs would be so much more difficult and require more planning and skills.

In the same vein, I can’t believe that nurseries would pay their staff more if they were allowed to have more children allocated to each staff member. These are businesses whose aim is to make a profit, and they are already attracting committed, caring staff who are willing to work for a pittance because they have a vocation to work with very young children. Does the government really think they would pass up the opportunity to make more cash, unless they were forced to pay their workers a better wage (now there’s a better idea)?

But as a parent, what would attract me to a nursery or childminder would be low ratios – because they (in theory, of course) equal more attention on your child. Admittedly, there would be some people who might be persuaded back to work if childcare was a bit cheaper, but would it really be that many? Those already shelling out a large proportion of their wage might be grateful for £50 knocked off at the end of the month’s bill, but at what cost? Knowing their child is more likely than ever to be overlooked (or worse) because there simply aren’t enough pairs of adult eyes in the room? Putting young children in childcare is a difficult, if necessary, part of life for most parents to deal with without the added worry that they’re not going to be well looked after in their absence.

The proposals are not entirely wrong-headed – there are suggestions to make childcare (fully or partly) tax-deductible, which make sense. By all means find ways of reducing the cost of childcare, but not at the expense of the children themselves, or the people who make a career out of looking after them with kindness and professionalism. This is an example where the numbers on the spreadsheet may add up – but the human cost is much harder to calculate.

Someone to watch over him…

Beginning of a new era today – youngest son has started settling in sessions at nursery. He has a completely different temperament to his older brother and so far seems to be loving it. I have mixed feelings about it. I worry that he will be unhappy without me, that he’ll miss me, that the people who look after him won’t love him as much as me (of course they won’t, but it’s still a silly niggle). But I also feel an immense sense of relief, that it’s the first step in getting a bit of me back – or at least carving out some time for the “new” me (as I know it’s impossible to return to the pre-children “old” me).

I am very fortunate in that the nursery he will be attending is very good – the staff are very caring, they’ve been wonderful with my older son, and B will have the same keyworker in the baby room that he had. She is a lovely person, very experienced, and has cared for children with severe reflux before, so I know his medical needs will be met.

Childcare is such an emotive topic. The “gurus” who have made the most noise about it are very anti group daycare for under 3s (I’m thinking particularly of Steve Biddulph and Oliver James). They would place nurseries at the bottom of the childcare food chain, with childminders above, nannies still higher, relatives near the top, and (of course) the mother as the fairy on top of the Christmas tree. They add the usual caveats, that group childcare is better than abuse or neglect in the home (would bloody hope so), but the intimation is still that you are leaving your child to a lifetime of attachment issues and general psychosis by putting them in nursery as babies.

Never mind the economic realities that mean many parents have no choice but to employ others to look after their children to put food on the table. Or <shock, horror> those who could scrimp and save and get by without paid childcare but choose to do so to allow both parents a working identity outside of the home.

We fall into the latter category. The boys do just two days a week at nursery, and this may increase by a day if my work picks up (am self-employed). I realise we are incredibly fortunate to be able to have this balance. But from a purely personal point of view, I need that time for my own mental health. The fact that I will inevitably be a better mother as a result is lost on those who would have mothers stay with their children ad infinitum. I am not decrying those who choose that path – I think it’s a wonderful thing to be with your children full time – but not one that works for me, or the family as a whole.

A working dilemma

Yesterday’s report by Save the Children and Daycare Trust revealed that many mothers are delaying their return or stopping work altogether when their children are small because of the prohibitive cost of childcare.

I realise I am very lucky because I am self-employed, and so can be flexible about which days, and indeed how much time, my child spends in childcare. And going back to work, at least for a short while after my first child was born, was probably the single most effective measure in helping me feel happier. Well, maybe that and the Sertraline in joint first place.

It didn’t change any of the guilt and sadness I felt about ‘losing’ a part of myself, or my feelings of inadequacy as a mother. But it definitely helped to temper them, and gave me a bit of self-esteem back.

This time it’s a bit different, as I’ll need to cover childcare for two, notwithstanding the free 15 hours you currently get when they turn three. There’s more pressure to earn, and with the unreliable earnings of the self-employed, the thought is making me quite anxious.

There are many women who stay in work, barely breaking even or even taking a hit on the family finances thanks to the costs of childcare. Knowing that none of the work you’re doing actually shows up as a plus on your bank statement at the end of the month can be particularly galling and not great for self-esteem.

A study last month found that working reduced depression in mothers – something that has long been acknowledged by psychologists. Work makes us feel important, useful and, hopefully, contributes to personal fulfillment.I’ve heard many people say that being a parent is the most important job you’ll ever do. But it’s not comparable – and anyway, who would think of saying that to a man?

If we are committed to reducing cases of postnatal depression, and the accompanying strain on the health service, we would do well to subsidise early years childcare to a greater extent. This would give women a genuine choice about returning to work, and the boost if so often gives to their sense of self-worth.