Nonviolence is not sterile passivity, but a powerful moral force which makes for social transformation.
-Martin Luther King, Jr.
I should have heeded the warning sign.
Like many learning experiences and slip-ups in the journey of parenting, I was, of course, distracted.
As I sat chatting with other mothers in our group, I noticed the first signs of distress in my sweet two year old son. A few other toddlers in the room noticed the airplane toy Landon was playing with. Giving the toy one big push forward with a pretend buzzing sound, Landon fanned out his small fingers and raised his arm, letting the toy out of his grasp to watch it roll. Of course, in the unwritten rules of toddlerhood, if your hand isn't on it (or even if it is sometimes!) it's MINE...and just like that, a playmate swooped in and scooped up the airplane, SCORE! Running across the room with it, she was gone and Landon stood there with his mouth wide open as he realized what had happened.
Frustration enveloped him like storm-clouds blotting out the sun. He dropped to the ground and began bull-dozing his head around the carpet, moaning, "My plane! My plane!"
Still distracted by my conversation, I quickly salvaged a new toy out of Landon's bag and tried to appease him.
Another Mom in our group scooted a red, plastic toy train to Landon...hoping to help alleviate the sting of lost ownership.
"I frow," I heard faintly, while still listening to my friend's story, Landon's verbal warning that he was about ready to launch something.
I paused and got down on his level, "I know you are frustrated buddy, but no throwing. Throwing hurts!"
Then, it happened. The straw that broke the camel's back.
Another toddler swooped in and grabbed the 'replacement toy'....wooden animal beads and a string. Skipping off merrily with them, she dragged the colorful wooden creatures behind her like dogs on a leash.
"I frow," I heard again, amidst conversation.
Glancing down at Landon, I prepared to excuse myself from the conversation without interrupting my dear friend. Holding up my hand, I opened my mouth to speak just as a streak of red whizzed across my vision.
The toy train!
With a loud thunk, Landon and I both watched in horror as the train collided with the unlucky and unintended target, Landon's good friend who was humming and playing unsuspectingly on the floor.
She let out an ear-shattering wail just as a hefty black and blue bruise began to form on her sweet little forehead.
Ouch!
Immediately my stomach sank.
Perhaps one, if not THE most embarrassing moment as a parent is when your child hurts another child, even if it's unintentional.
In a moment like this, it's as if you are watching everything in slow-motion and it feels as if all eyes in the room are glued to you.
YOU are the parent of the 'perpetrator'. What ARE you going to do? The spotlight is on.
I could hear my heartbeat thumping wildly in my ears.
It is in this very raw vulnerability that I have made some of my biggest mistakes, that I imagine many parents find themselves reacting in ways they later regret. After all, it is so very easy to react in a knee-jerk fashion, covering up embarrassment with anger.
Yet the irony is that it is in these moments that our children desperately NEED us....need our calm, need our compassion, need our confidence....the MOST.
There is SO much I am learning through the journey of parenthood, but never underestimating the power of relationship keeps bubbling up, like the chorus to a beautiful, insightful song.
So, with pulse pounding and stomach in knots, I knelt down to my child and took a deep breath.
He glanced at me nervously, his eyes filled with tears, biting his bottom lip, watching as his friend cried heartily on her mother's shoulder.
I sighed as I looked back and forth between the sobbing friend and my tearful boy.
I had a choice.
Anger or compassion.
Punishment or guidance.
Patronize or empathize.
Fear.....or....Love.....
Putting my arm around his tiny body, I gave him a gentle squeeze as if to say, "I'm here, darling...I'm here. You are not alone. Let's walk this messy path together. Let's solve this. Let's make it right."
"Throwing hurts," I reiterated to Landon, "Look at how sad your friend is. She's crying because she got hurt on her head. Ouch."
A hot tear rolled down Landon's cheek. He crouched down and banged his own head on the floor.
"You were mad and sad, I understand. But NO throwing."
Giving him a kiss and looking him in the eye I continued, "Let's help your friend feel better. What can we do?"
Landon took it upon himself to extend a peace offering of his one and only bag of coveted fruit snacks to his injured friend...a perfect two-year old apology.
Ten minutes later, tears dried...booboo's and bruised spirits kissed and on-the-mend, we all sat together on the ground smiling and laughing.
Watching the two toddlers happily playing once more, I felt a pang of humility melting through me. Often we get so wrapped up in our image as a parent, in how we perceive a situation, in how WE feel. To make matters worse, we are barraged by an undercurrent in society that values control, that values punishment masquerading as justice, that whispers through it's actions that might makes right. And because we are so tired/busy/and over-committed, we never even think to question these ugly seeds that have taken root in our words, in our actions....in our parenting.
I know I didn't.
But children are born so innocent of this tangled mess we make for ourselves.
They are born with tiny heart caring nothing of image and yet caring everything about relationship....caring everything about love.
Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent then the one derived from fear of punishment. (Mahatma Gandhi)
Parenting is full of choices.
Life is full of choices.
And although I have a long road ahead of me...there is one thing I am a utterly certain of.
I choose love.
