Great Days, Great Folks, Lessons Learned

We spent a lovely day with friends, celebrating a wee one's first birthday. The Honored Guest doesn't remember a thing about the Grand Event, but it's always a joyful celebration.

Zorak had to work, but was able to join the party in time to enjoy some Cuban style beans and rice and a cold beer. *ahhh* Good stuff. Not quite ambrosia, but mixed with enjoyable company and the background noise of a dozen or more gleeful children, it's not a bad way to spend the afternoon at all.

I have only one issue to take with the day, and I hope that new parents or soon-to-be parents, or those who are ever in charge of planning events and games for small children in any setting at all will please listen closely...

(General Disclaimer. I'm not talking about sporting events, nor about planned competitions for which children are prepared. I am not even talking about all children in all stages of life. I am talking about little ones and social gatherings. Everybody doesn't have a water buffalo, but the point that follows is that the little guys don't mind as long as we don't beat them over the head with it. So, here's your grain of salt, enjoy, and read on. Thank you, The Management.)

The Honored Parents are still learning the ropes, and today they gained a valuable lesson: the Inertia of Joy. Children do not naturally need to be organized or entertained. They move on their own internal inertia and it is easy to mess with that, but the results are not going to be good. We've messed with their inertia.

I cringed a bit when I overheard that there were "games" planned, with "prizes" for the winners. This is the under seven crowd, folks. The games of our youth which we may (or may not) remember with fondness were not such fond memories before we hit the more calloused and competitive ages. If the children are little, give them room to run and the occasional snack and you'll be amazed at how much fun they'll have. Musical chairs is perhaps one of the meanest, most humilitating things you can do to a group of small children. And yet, here it came. *sigh* I'm never quite sure how to handle these situations, really. It's going to end in tears. It's a bad idea. I voice my concerns and suggest that perhaps we ought to let the children continue playing happily, together, as they are... and I'm met with the shocked, eye-rolling look that says, "You are SO overprotective." Yes, folks, we all want our children learn to handle failure, but we don't want to consciously set them up for it. Tsk, tsk. So, they called the happy, smiling children to gather 'round. All the parentless adults and the fairly new parents were all smiles. The guileless children heard "game", thought "fun", and agreed to give it a shot.

One. By. One. The tears flowed. First out was John, who would never think to shove a little girl out of a seat (initially because he knew we'd have a fit, but at this point simply because he knows you don't shove and you don't push girls... see how this just doesn't fit when you're four and trying to make sense of it all?) His shoulders slumped, his head dropped, and silent tears fell. The other children slowly realized that this was going to get ugly. Wonderful Neighbors' eldest girl was next. Same tears, same dejection. Some of the parentless adults are starting to think that perhaps it's not such a good idea to be making the children cry. (They CAN be taught! Hallelujah!) Two more children were ousted from the game, absolutely crushed at being banished from the fun of running around to music, before the organizers of the "fun" looked around and said, "What should we do?" Well, how about letting them just run and play? That seemed to be working well.

It took a while to perk up their little spirits, but thankfully, children are resilient and once they're reassurred that the "fun" is over, they go quite happily back to their mundane games of hide and seek, follow-me, run-in-circles-until-you-fall-over, and who-can-laugh-the-silliest. By the time everyone headed out, all of the children were running once again on their Inertia of Joy. (They'd also broken into the gift bags and were tanking up on Pixie Stix! WOOHOO! It's party time!)

Just let the children be. They don't have to compete to have fun. They don't have to have a winner to enjoy the day. They are little, and they are trying to learn how it all fits together. Let them do that without pitting them against one another. Let them find their place and their footing. Enjoy them. There is so much to enjoy in them, if you'll let them be.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy