The Little Boy at Starbucks

If you read much form me, you know that Starbucks is my office. In fact, I have a chain of them to select from. For the mere price of a decaf mocha, I can and have sat for hours bent over a book or my laptop enjoying a pleasant atmosphere where I can focus away from home. Yesterday was no exception.

When I arrived, there was only one table occupied in the entire location. On one side sat a woman with her laptop screen open, papers and her phone resting at the side. She was intent on the screen's information. Across from her sat a little boy no more than seven years old. He was dressed in a striped T-shirt reminiscent of the 70s and neatly combed hair. A backpack hung on the back of his chair as he crouched over a hand-held electronic item. I surmised this was a mother and son and she needed to take him with her while she worked, so she took her laptop to Starbucks instead of the office.

They had been there awhile before I arrived. I say this because their belongings appeared to be well-established and they were settled. Empty drink cups sat on the table. I was there four hours. They left thirty minutes before I did. Not once did I see that boy move from his chair or hear him speak. The woman took a few phone calls but did not leave her chair, either. At one point when I went to order another drink, he appeared slumped over the table so I thought he fell asleep. Nope. He had just found a way to rest his forehead on the table and play the game from his lap.

I did not hear a word from either of them as they packed up for the day. The woman did not break a smile and appeared lost in thought. The little boy was non-reactive and appeared as if he was used to going places with her and occupying himself.

Upon first seeing them, I thought it was a mom-and-son-day and they were just hanging out together. When mom kept her focus on her laptop screen and he didn't speak, I thought it was mom-didn't-have-anyone-to-watch-her-son-while-she-worked-day. When I kept seeing the boy stay in his chair, I thought it was the-most-compliant-boy-in-the-world-day, coupled with neither-of-my-kids-would-have-ever-sat-3-minutes-silently-across-from-me-day. At the end of these occasional observations, I decided it was #sadface-little-boy-at-starbucks-day.

Why a sad face? Because that little boy spent at least half of a business day with beautiful summer weather lighting up the windows sitting in a chair alone. Sure, his mom was across from him. But only physically. Mentally she was computing, managing and planning. Even when they packed up, she did not notice him much less make a big deal about how much she was able to get done that they could now go get some ice cream and run at the park. Sure. She might have said that in the car. But in my not to be humble opinion, she missed her moment. That was one tired little boy. His eyes had been zombieing on a small electronic screen for hours. He had not spoken. No one had spoken to him. Mom might have felt like she had gotten a lot done, but that little boy was on empty. He needed instant affirmation.

Yes, I know what it is like to be a working mom with no one to watch my kids while having to face deadlines. Yes, my kids have "had" to come along with me from time to time. The difference was that they got attention, praise and eye contact. They did not have to sit quietly. I allowed myself to be interrupted by them. This mom might have had a drop-dead piece of work to complete. She did look awfully serious. But I still contend she could have smiled at her boy from time to time and hugged him once they stood up. And she should have enthusiastically praised his socks off. Video games aren't that fun for that long. Another suggestion? She could have made sure he had brought a variety of items to use and coached him to change focus now and then. And a wink across the top of her computer screen? Priceless.

Working parents: please don't forget that your little boy at Starbucks is a little human being with thoughts and feelings all his own. Just because he can sit there quietly doesn't mean he doesn't have something to say. Your facial expressions and words mean far more than you think. That was his day as much as it was yours.

Parenting Information Overload

The other day I was sitting with a toddler mom who shared a concern she and her friends had that they were missing developmental teaching moments as they learned the ropes of motherhood. They didn't know how to guard against that and spent more time anxious and chastising themselves.

I couldn't help but wonder if - in their quest to provide such perfect experiences with their wee ones - their angst overrode any of the fun or joy. It wasn't so long ago (in my heart) that I was one of those wide-eyed moms hoping to do parental justice on behalf of her own little baby. My mom was no longer alive, so I entered the role with a significant wisdom handicap.

Not only didn't I have a mom, my family was practically nonexistent. That's what happens when your parents are both only children and you move across the country. Here I am in a new city 2 months from the big day having no idea what to do, much less purchase in order to get the nursery ready. So, I decided to create a survey from the three baby books I had devoured that told me what items I simply had to have on hand at birth. Things like numbers of diapers, burp cloths, onesies, t-shirts, sheets, bottles, etc. I took this differing information and made a chart. From that chart I computed averages. Armed with that, I went shopping at the nearby outlet mall with a new also-expectant friend. It was hard for her to keep her eyebrows at a reasonable latitude when I brought out my list. But at that point, my list was my wisdom since I didn't have anyone in the flesh to ask. I stuck to my averages and bought my items, and discovered as time went along that not every baby needs 24 burp cloths.

I am happy to tell you not only did my first baby survive my mothering, so did my second! In fact, we all thrived. With a ten-year gap in-between, I had to re-buy and learn things all over again. And the second time I even did it without a survey much less any baby books telling me what to do or expect. They don't "need" all of the things advertised. It all depends on your lifestyle and baby. I tried that sling wrap thing that I admired other moms wearing. My baby hung out upside down and screeched.

The difference between me before the birth of my first and the birth of my second blessing? Confidence. I learned early on with baby #1 that I knew more that I thought I did once I paused to think for myself and not follow like a sheep. Initially I linked up with a number of mommy groups. But I wasn't a robot and I sucked at legalism. I wasn't about to wake up my sleeping baby to feed her just to maintain a schedule or change what was sure to be a wet diaper. Sleep is good. From this experience I learned to find my own mommie voice and discover what worked for my baby in my household. I survived the whole comparison of ability thing by chirping out ignorant feats to distract those anxious moms and gently removed myself from those weekly shame-a-thons.

As I grew in my own new discoveries, my baby was right there with me. Sometimes we learned together. Like what it was like to go to the store and have a volcanic breastmilk eruption down the front of my shirt. Or what it was like to check a baby in while I went to church. Or change pooped out clothes using your car's trunk. The longer I was a mommie, the more of an expert on my kid I became. Seeing how their minds and bodies worked prompted me to naturally do things that books now tell you to tap into your smart phone as a reminder.

When they are sitting on your lap as you read a book, don't turn the page to continue the narrative if you see your baby is more interested in pointing things out. How easy is it for us to ask them questions? What is that? Why do you think that's there? What do you think will happen next?

These guys are learning every second of every day. No wonder they need naps or get cranky! Constant intake is overwhelming. Everything you do with your toddler is an adventure, so don't think you even have to leave your yard. It's a big deal to them even if it isn't to you. Just stay off social media and be fully present with your child. Your time with them is more precious than the thing you think you have to hurry up and do.

One of the most soothing memories I have is taking my young son's hand (and having to lean low toward his shortness) as he toddled his way through the grocery store parking lot. All of the rush-zip-boom-ba whooshed out of my body as I experienced one careful step after the other right along with him.

I learned I knew more than I thought when I gave myself some credit. I also stopped flooding my mind with every possible parenting book and theory. Find one theory that works for you and you're set. Mine was Dr. Kevin Leman's reality discipline.Your role is to help your child learn from reality - not to scold, nag or warn. You teach calmly. I've taught this theory to hundreds of families and when it is used correctly, it's simple, effective and fun. The biggest downfall is the parental urge to nag and narrate "I told you so, see?" or any other such useless verbiage your kid translates to blah-blah-blah anyway.

There's a reason it takes 18 years to launch your kid, so please relax those clenched muscles, take a deep breath and enjoy it step by step.