When my one-and-a-half-year-old started school (daycare) in January, I felt compelled to aim for an adventure on the way home most days. Specifically a trip to one of the many playgrounds in our area, or the library kids’ corner on really cold days. I assumed Claire would want to run and play and burn off energy, especially on cold days when her class may not have gotten out on the playground. On a selfish note, I didn’t want to spend the 3+ hours between school pickup and bedtime feeling stuck at home.
With the start of spring, that’s shifted. I started to notice Claire was more fussy during our adventures, and often just wanted to be held rather than run around and climb and slide or play. At first, I was confused, and a little disappointed. Why wasn’t my adventure approach fun for her? Was I not in tune with what was good for her?
Then I read a suggestion to offer toddlers – who want to explore their power and feel a sense of autonomy – more choices. I started doing that at home, trying to be more present with what Claire wants, just by asking more questions. “Do you want to wear the pink pants or the purple pants? Do you want a banana or a smoothie?” And I started to do that when we got in the car after school. “Do you want to go to the playground, or home?” Repeatedly, she’s been saying: “Home!”
Off we go. And that playground fussing has dissolved into backyard peace. She’s busy and stimulated by 11 other kids and lessons and play and routines at school. When I started giving her a choice instead of making an assumption, I realized that, usually, all she wants to do is come home, let her doggies outside and kick off her shoes (or have me take them off). She wants to stick her toes in her sandbox and scoop sand into cups. She wants to sort rocks from the patio and rinse them off in the dog bowls. She wants to skip and jump in the grass and get pushed in her swing. She wants to sit and explore in the dirt pit her dogs have been digging.
As I’ve embraced this new lack of plans after work and school, I’ve found so much peace in it myself. There’s a loveliness to kicking off my sandals and sticking my own toes in the sand, grainy and soft and cool. To padding barefoot through the grass in my daughter’s footsteps. To touching my fingertip to the rock in Claire’s hand when she says, “Touch it!” To pushing her in her swing and hearing her laugh. To letting her get dirty and feel the earth, and letting myself feel it, too.
There’s a peace and ease to no plans after work – I’ve never felt this during other chapters of my life. It’s a major shift from my pre-parenting days, when I’d take or teach a yoga class, walk our younger dog, go out to dinner a few days a week or freelance write. Always planning, always feeling productive.
This peace feels different. Not better, per se. But welcome.
Now, when Claire and I get in the car and she says: “Home!” I’m pleased. That sounds good to me, too.
