| | When I left the merciless dictates of the Ezzo’s parenting regime for the heartwarming welcome of attachment parenting, I strongly resented Gary Ezzo’s assertion that babies fed on demand become demanding children. And as I watched my first and second children grow, I thought their sweet toddlerhoods indicative of exemplary sharing and kindness and was immensely proud. Now, facing reality with four children, I am perfectly willing to admit that my own offspring are as selfish as anyone else, sometimes more and possibly sometimes less.
But a while ago, I was talking with some mothers about how our children want us to play with us ALL the time—some mothers didn’t find that true (can I possibly have gotten that right?), but one who did commented that her boys were very “demanding.” That use of the word demanding made me reconsider the Ezzos’ comment because in that context, my children certainly are demanding. From the time my kids set eyes on me in the morning, they have activities lined up for me to do—play cars, hold their hand while they leap from a couch, read the same book over and over again, play games, go on walks, ride bikes, build with blocks…. And my youngest two keep up a constant stream of conversation in which they become very frustrated if I am momentarily distracted from such absorbing ideas as why Count Dooku is such a good fighter and whether pirates would ever pan for gold. Granted, my older children are now much more independent, and although my memory of the past nine years is basically a complete fog, I have some hazy recollection that they behaved very similarly.
Are there really mothers of young children who live a very different life--who go to the bathroom without a toddler asking to have a book read beside them and a preschooler standing outside the slightly opened door asking imperative questions? Or do you think this lifestyle I have bought into is all because I fed my baby when he seemed hungry for the first four months or so? I mean, after four months, they all fall into a basic routine (although I still nursed if they got hurt or upset or any time at night). It seems a little incredulous.
Now, I suppose I could have gotten my kids to stay outside the bathroom or sit in strollers or high chairs for any length of time if I had been willing to torture myself with wailing for a few weeks or months? I’m guessing the demandingness of my kids has more to do with where I set my boundaries than nursing on demand, although I can see that mothers that nurse on demand might be more willing to set more flexible boundaries. I guess I just want my kids to be curious and exploratory and smart and fascinated by life, so I try to be fascinated with their wonder and look somewhat skeptically at tools that are more for my convenience than their good.
That said, I love weekends when my oldest is home, and my preschoolers will play with HER for hours. The bliss, the freedom of being chopped liver.
And it’s just possible that I really think that demanding children have got to absorb more and end up more brilliant. So, maybe I’ll take it as a complement that I did something right to raise demanding children, and I’ll smile more benignly (or should I say pityingly?) on the poor deluded Mr. Ezzo who thought he didn’t want demanding children. |
| | Posted 5/5/2006 10:42 AM - 2 views - 7 comments
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