It’s early morning. I’m nursing the baby in the quiet. The sunlight is just beginning to seep in through the slants of the blinds when my toddler shuffles in. She looks at me, and I place my finger on my lips and whisper, “Shhhh…”
She pauses and then cuddles close to me, burrowing her face in my leg. Her hair tickles my leg, and I flinch, moving it away from her. Then there’s a nearly inaudible sigh as she climbs to her feet. She glances in my direction before shuffling out of the darkened room.
I almost missed it – that soft sigh of resignation. Mommy cannot be my everything.
One of her favorite stories comes to mind now, Mr. Rabbit and the Lovely Present
“What else does she like?” said Mr. Rabbit.
“She likes blue,” the little girl said.
“Blue. You can’t give her blue,” said Mr. Rabbit.
“Something blue, maybe,” said the little girl.
“Lakes are blue,” said the rabbit.
“But I can’t give her a lake, you know,” said the little girl.
“Stars are blue.”
“I can’t give her stars,” the little girl said, “but I would if I could.
Rachel always pipes in at this part and says, “I would if I could.”
And at this moment, watching my little girl slip quietly away, when I catch that shade of longing and see life from her bright, brown eyes I want to say these same words, too. It’s how I feel sometimes when I know I can’t fill everyone’s emotional wells at the same time.
I would if I could…
There’s a deep tug on my heart. My arms ache to hold her. I wish my lap was big enough to always accommodate her and her nursing baby sister who suddenly seems so long to me sprawled across my lap with kicking feet and twitching toes. I’d planned on tandem nursing, but two months before her baby sister’s birth, Rachel, always the easy-going child, stopped asking for my milk and I stopped offering. Just like that she was weaned from my breast. But she wasn’t weaned from my physical touch, my love. Sometimes I have to remind myself that she’s still a baby in many ways who requires lots of her mama even if she’s not one to complain. Her needs are still there, but she often doesn’t make them known. The signs that she needs a little extra TLC are more subtle and could easily be missed. Soft sighs. A gentle tug at my shirt. Pleading eyes that look up at me and find their way to my heart.
My sweet Rachel certainly has her toddler moments. When she’s overtired, she mutates into a screeching and onerous feudal lord, and we are all serfs expected to bend to her will and demands, but, mostly, she’s a laid-back child. She’s also taciturn, contemplative. When we have friends over, she often prefers self-imposed seclusion. I’ll check on her and find her immersed in an imaginary land all by her lonesome while her older sister corrals her friends together for a boisterous, active game she’s concocted on a whim. Both girls have vivid imaginations. One is just less showy about it.
I have to be careful to categorize my children by their personalities, but I’ve always seen my first as my more challenging child. She’s strong willed, spirited, and programmed to test limits and push buttons. I cannot contain her energy. She is a little primate who treats everything as a piece of jungle gym equipment. Three weeks after she broke her arm in two places, she was playing with a neighborhood boy and busted her nose. I don’t even try to keep her from stretching her limbs and moving her body anymore. She has a need to run, climb, skip, and jump. As active as she is, she’s going to suffer more playtime casualties.
It’s my first who has always prompted me to seek counsel from more veteran moms. And recently, I got a surprising morsel of advice that I’ve been chewing on ever since. I was chatting with a mom-friend who knows my children well. I was bemoaning the fact that it seemed that no matter how much I gave to my oldest, she wanted more.
“She’s always negotiating for more,” I said. “I feel like I can never give her all that she needs.”
“Madeline is fine,” my friend replied. “I’d worry more about Rachel.”
Huh? Rachel always seemed satisfied. Read her one book and then tell her she needed to go off and play on her own, and she would easily acquiesce to entertaining herself.
My friend went on to talk about how she had a sibling that her parents were always worried about. She was a tenacious child who would likely be described by the experts as “high need.” She was always on her parents’ radar screen. They constantly kept their finger on her emotional pulse to make sure she was okay. But my friend, well, she was more quiet and easily pacified. Yet, sometimes she felt like her parents didn’t notice she was drowning in the efforts to always meet the demands of her older sibling and never had a chance to come up for air.
“Make sure you’re giving Rachel extra attention, too – even if she doesn’t ask for it,” my friend advised.
Shortly after our conversation, Madeline went off to spend the night with her nana and pop. Rachel and the baby remained with me, and I decided I was going to plan some special things together.
We headed to the kitchen to make a smoothie, one of Rachel’s favorite treats. Her little hands scooped up strawberries, and she plopped them into the blender. When it came time to mix the ingredients, she asked if she could push the button to turn on the blender.
“Of course,” I said.
“Because Maddy’s not here?” she asked. Her brown doe-eyes met mine, and I felt that tug in my heart again.
Madeline always makes a big fuss about turning the blender on. She’s polite about it, but it’s her responsibility. Rachel has never even asked to do it, so I always have let her big sister be in charge of setting the blades into motion. Rachel’s job has always been to toss in the fruit.
But just because a wheel’s not squeaky doesn’t mean it doesn’t need a squirt of oil from time to time to keep it turning properly.
Parenting the easy child, it turns out, isn’t always so easy after all. In many ways, I have to be even more attuned to Rachel to make sure she’s getting what she needs. And when I’m not able to fill her cup completely, then it’s important for her to know that I still notice her, love her.
The next time I hear that soft sigh, I’m going to pull my Rachel back to me. If I can’t give her what she needs at that moment, I will whisper into her ear, “I would if I could…”
And when my hands and heart are free, I will give her all the hugs and love I can – even if it’s only adding to her surplus. This way, I hope, my sweet girl will have just what she needs even when she doesn’t ask for it.
I'm glad you have these insights now, while she's a toddler. My easy to parent, melancholic child is now 18 and in college. I loved him, and did my best while parenting 5 others, but he expresses his unloveability and low self-esteem now, and it breaks my heart.
I know that understanding it back then might not have made much of a difference because I'm still me and still had 5 others, but I might have been able to do better.
Beautiful reflection, Kate! I was also an easy-to-parent child, and although I turned out mostly ok, I definitely tried and got away with a lot of bad stuff in high school and college. Maybe I would have tried that stuff no matter what, but I always felt like I was under the radar at home and nobody would notice. Give Rae a big HUG from me!!
Beautiful! My almost-2-year-old decided when his brother was born 3 months ago that his spot when I was breastfeeding was right between my knees (I usually sit sideways on the couch with my knees bent up). For the last three mos, whenever I nurse the baby my toddlers climbs up in between my knees with his blanket and his juice. I love it! And my 3-year-old is easier than his older brother … this post is a good wake-up call for me regarding him. Thank you!
As a former non-squeaky child with very squeaky sisters ~ good for you!! While I still battle 'people pleasing' and self-loathing at times my relationship is so much better with my mom and I'm learning to ask for what I need from my friends and husband without guilt or self-recrimination.
Thank you for making my day a little brighter (as usual)!
Reminds me of when my girls were little….my Rachel (the eldest) was "high need," and Lauren, quiet and easy going, didn't ask for much. When her brother was born, I made a point of spending time with her every evening – we used to sit on the basement steps! It was the only quiet place we could find to hide. I knew I had to go out of my way a bit for her. In fact, even though they're adults now, I still have to remember to seek Lauren out and keep our relationship strong. You're doing a great job, Kate!
It makes me so happy to think of you greasing your little uncomplaining wheel. I am the middle child of 5 and although I wouldn't classify any of us as demanding, I was the go-along/get-along one and definitely had the middle child syndrome of feeling invisible and unimportant. I think looking for ways to show Rachel she is loved and worthy of your full attention (whenever you can give it) will help her so much. I'm not one for a lot of self-esteem talk, but I think knowing your parents value you and think you're special is an irreplaceable gift to any child's development and self-image.
Great post! You brought tears to my eyes as I thought about my two. My oldest (boy 3.5) is a very active little boy. My daughter (18 months) so far seems to be a "compliant" child. And my son gets about 2/3 of my prayers (and attention). I've mentioned to my husband before that I don't worry about her as much as my son. He'll test the world and she'll ride along with it. But riding along with the world isn't great either. Thinking I need to up the prayers and attention for my daughter. Thanks for the perspective.
Oh this tugs at my heart. Sophie is my squeaky wheel and though she self-weaned the week before Ben was born, she always lets me know she's still my baby who needs lots and lots of physical affection. Bella on the other hand is so self-sufficient. She doesn't seek out cuddling nearly as much. She's the quick hug and run kind of girl.
At the same time, I think maybe she'd like more cuddles than I do give. She's just number three on the list and doesn't fuss. That's why when she gets up after she's been tucked in and says she's having trouble sleeping and asks to say prayers with me I always pull her into my lap and snuggle as we pray.
It sort of aches my heart the way she's attached herself to my sister's boyfriend, Joe. Whenever he comes by she grabs a pile of books and makes him read and read and read until my sister shoos her away. I wish I had more time to snuggle with her and read book after book like we used to do when she was younger. She doesn't complain but the way she acts when visitors come suggests to me she could use much more attention than I can give her.
you are such a good mom to recognize all of your children's needs :)
I'm glad you wrote about this. I have 2 boys right now and my youngest demands love and attention by showering me with hugs. My firstborn isn't really affectionate like that. I do try to give them both personal attention, but it's interesting that you wrote about pushing the blender button. I will do the same things b/c my oldest will fuss about something and my younger will be passive. I will try to let them each take turns.