We picked a day to visit the classic carousel on the Santa Monica Pier and talked about it for days ahead of time. We imagined the experience – choosing a horse, the music, fastening seatbelts, riding up and down, round and round, holding onto the shiny brass pole.

When the day finally arrived and we parked in the beach lot near the pier, I unfastened her car seat and she stepped outside. We looked towards the carousel building a good hundred yards away, and I was stunned when she murmured wistfully, “I hear the music from here”.  I heard nothing. And it wasn’t until we entered the building a few minutes later that I finally heard the music, too.

This began a magical day that only got better and better. The merry-go-round was everything my girl had hoped it would be. Since she had initiated this idea herself and had spent time imagining every detail, she embraced the experience completely.

The carousel confirmed lessons I’d learned through infant specialist Magda Gerber…

Wait for readiness.

Sharing the activities we loved as children is one of the joys of parenting, and naturally, we can’t wait! We don’t always have the patience to hold off on the carousel (or Disneyland, movies, SeaWorld, whatever…). But when we are able to postpone an activity until our child has the opportunity to initiate interest, or at least say ‘yes’ and be old enough to actively participate, i.e., walk Disneyland, choose rides, recognize characters and fasten seatbelts rather than be carried or strolled, the rewards are great.

Generally, the longer we can hold off, the more our child will gain, because the more participatory and “on top of things” toddlers feel, the richer the experience. We are inclined to forget how easily our toddlers become over-stimulated and overwhelmed.

Prepare…perchance to dream.

Preparing our children for new experiences encourages them to participate as actively as possible. When children have the opportunity, for example, to read the book and/or hear the music before going to a show, they eagerly anticipate the event and are ready to savor every aspect. It’s literally a dream come true. Toddlers love to predict what will happen and then be ‘right’. And the preparations for any activity are usually as enjoyable and educational as the event itself.

Balance outings with home time.

I envy the energy (and organizational ability) of parents who manage to schedule lots of special activities with their children. But I believe children gain more from experiences when they do them less often and have more time to assimilate them. Toddlers need plenty of time to “do nothing” at home so that they can absorb and learn from the events in their lives. They need time to invent play that helps them understand and process the things they’ve been exposed to that might confuse or disturb them. I’ll never forget my 3 1/2 year old scrubbing the floor for days (just pretending, unfortunately) after watching her first Disney movie – Cinderella.

Never underestimate the power of imagination. When we do less and wait for readiness, we encourage it…something to keep in mind this holiday season!

Happy Holidays!

My son is 28 months, and this is the first year I think he’ll have a lot of questions about Christmas.  My parents are already asking what Santa should bring him, and it’s prompted me to think about how I might position this mythical character in a developmentally appropriate way that embraces the spirit of Santa, doesn’t feel like I’m lying to him or that I will have to burst his bubble later!  I’d also love to know if you know of any books that illustrate what you recommend.  He’s SO into books lately, and we found a very cute book about Halloween that I think really helped him and us. 

I’d love to know your thoughts on this!

Many thanks and keep up the amazing work!

Mary

Thanks, Mary!

I would frame Santa as a magical, mythical character. Yes, as the legend goes, Santa lives at the North Pole, drives a sleigh with flying reindeer and sometimes brings gifts, but who can be sure? No one’s ever seen him, and we never know for certain if he’ll come. Those bearded guys in the mall are just nice men pretending (or Santa’s helpers). And you don’t have to sit on Santa’s lap if you don’t want to.

Keeping Santa a fluid, evolving fantasy is more honest and less scary for toddlers than the reality of a home invader jumping down the chimney in the middle of the night in big black boots. (One of my nephews was terrified of the big guy he called “Ho Ho”.)

Others might disagree, but I don’t believe encouraging fantasy and holiday magic conflicts with an honest relationship with our children. I don’t remember ever feeling my “bubble burst” as a child, only more appreciation for my parents’ generosity. I believe my older children, now 18 and 13, had a similar “transition”, and my 9 year old just made a letter for Santa. None of them has ever questioned details or asked for proof. Maybe they’re too smart for that.  Why question magic, joy and gifts?

Share your memorable childhood experiences. Some of my favorites are the silly things that happened while caroling every Christmas Eve with the neighborhood children; or the way, in our eager anticipation of  Christmas day, we’d push the walls inside our house to make the world turn faster (now I’m pushing in the opposite direction to make it slow down).  Holidays are an opportunity to share what we loved with our children, relive memories and make new traditions, the richest of which will be the ones created together spontaneously.

For Christians, Jesus’ birth is the magical story to share, and it was at least as captivating for my toddlers as the Santa story, if not more so. They loved the music (and still do), sang along with the hymns and played angels and manger animals in the church pageant. For us, making the effort to focus on the true meaning of the Christmas holiday was important and provided balance for all the Santa festivities.

Here are a few more thoughts about enriching the holiday experience (or any experience) for toddlers:

Great expectations.

I’m so glad you brought up books.  Reading books and telling stories are terrific ways to involve our toddlers in new events and occasions, because they help them know what to expect. If there’s one thing Girl Scouts and toddlers have in common it’s the wish to be prepared, since through a toddler’s eyes the world is new and thrilling, but also a little overwhelming. In a big, mysterious world full of unknowns, toddlers like to know. Prepped for events with books and our detailed descriptions, they can feel a little on top of things and embrace experiences more fully. 

So, I would definitely show your son books and tell him all about your plans around Christmas. My favorite Santa books are classics that capture the Christmas spirit:

The Night Before Christmas

The Polar Express

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Active involvement:

Toddlers want to do things themselves, and when we slow down and prioritize their active participation, the holidays can belong to them, too. This means keeping an eye out for things toddlers can do, or at least try to do. It means letting go of results and preconceived notions, allowing all the ornaments to be clumped in a foot long section at the bottom of the tree, not minding it when grandma hears all about her new bedroom slippers beforehand (because our toddler helped us wrap them), realizing that other things we thought mattered really don’t.  And don’t even bother asking a child under the age of 10 not to throw tinsel.

Toddlers can place money in the Salvation Army tin and drop gifts into the Toys for Tots bins (although it’s easier if it’s not a toy they would like.) Toddlers can also help come up with gift ideas for people they know…and will get a kick out of seeing them opened.

Toddlers love to make stuff. We’re blessed to have lots of beautiful ornaments, including expensive gifts and family heirlooms, but my all time favorite is one my daughter made at preschool when she’d just turned 3 (See photo above). I had already been planning to share about it here, and then while we were all decorating the tree recently, I was surprised to hear her exclaim, “It survived another year!” as she hung it on a low branch. 15 years later, I guess it’s still special to her, too.

Here are the instructions c/o Little River School:

• Large piece of aluminum foil that the children can bunch up themselves, squeeze and squeeze and shape into the ball.
• A bowl of Elmer’s glue  
• A paint brush
• Pipe cleaner
• Dip brush into glue and paint the entire ball.
• Sprinkle glitter or sequins. (Sometimes people have aversion to glitter, but if the children are carefully supervised they will not inhale or harm themselves, depending on the age of the children.)     
• They can use glitter or sequins of their choice and then allow it to dry. 
• The pipe cleaner hook is placed through the top of the foil.
• Hook to tree.

Keep it simple.

Ho, ho, ho, can’t even pretend to know much about this. Even though “do less, enjoy more” (à la Magda Gerber) is my usual mantra, and I’m well aware that toddlers are sensitive and absorb our moods, I have never figured out how to avoid becoming possessed by  Christmas holiday madness. So, here are some posts I’ll be turning to for inspiration to change my stressed, obsessed holiday ways:

The Holiday Season: Putting The Genie Back In the Bottle by Kim John Payne

Simple and Special by Amber Strocel

The Holidays With Young Children: Keeping It Simple by Dr. Heather

5 Steps To Cut Through The Holiday Crap by Erika Oliver 

I’ll only add one thought…one that you probably already know: toddlers play longer with simple toys that they can be creative with and actively explore. A set of blocks, a basket of balls, a box of stones (but not ones they can choke on), even a lump of coal can be just as intriguing as an electric train set.  And the gift they treasure most is the attention of their loved ones.

Merry Christmas, Mary!

Janet

P.S. Play music. Sing and dance.  A lot.

Do you have favorite holiday books, music, ideas for toddlers? Please share!

The last straw was when I volunteered to teach Sunday school and chose a simple-looking activity right out of the curriculum book — making cool, stained-glass-type ornaments. The children had created little drawings, colored them and cut them out. I was supposed to seal the shapes between two pieces of waxed paper with an iron. I ironed and ironed. I fretted and sweated, but the waxed paper kept curling up, wouldn’t stick at all, and we were running out of time.  “My mom would have tried this at home first,” a little girl announced. It was church, so I forgave her.

So, you can be sure that if I’m offering a craft idea, it’s easy, forgiving, user friendly, unsinkable. You can also be sure, because of my beliefs about children owning their creative endeavors, about hands-off self-directed play and active participation, that this activity is totally child-centered. A child (3 and up) who is able to use scissors will need only minimal direction.

This simple snowflake activity was introduced to my children by my dear friend Magdalena, of Little River School. They made many, MANY of these and were entertained for hours. My son made the one pictured in about 2 minutes, but he’s 9.  He was thrilled to discover that he accidentally created “a snowman” in the middle. (Hmmm. I’m just realizing there’s a kind of Rorschach test element to this.) The snowflakes look suprisingly lovely when made simpler, by a much younger child, too. There’s no right or wrong way to make these.

You’ll need:

Paper.  Scissors. That’s it.  And tape if you want to hang it on a window.

Directions:

Fold paper in half, and then in half again.  Cut corners and sides any which way you like. Open to admire snowflake.

Oh, and my adolescent daughter corrected me when she awoke at almost noon today. We were supposed to begin with a square piece of paper, not a rectangle. Yes, I imagine that would make a more snowflaky-looking snowflake.

Did I mention I’m no good at crafts?

I know the feeling. I often wake up in the night in chest pounding worry for my children — worries about their hurt feelings, their disappointments and bad moods. And, of course, I worry most for their health and safety. One small worry can spark a blazing wildfire fueled by anything and everything that could possibly go wrong (a worrisome analogy, since it’s fire season and the Santa Ana winds just began to howl!)

When we become parents, we know the feeling of loving someone more than our own lives. Our unconditional love for a child renders us painfully vulnerable to the world because we have something so precious to lose. Our hearts feel dangerously open.

We are all born with hearts wide open. We’re sensitive, eager sponges ready to absorb and embrace the world. But at some point in our childhood, sometimes even in early infancy, we close off parts of our self for protection. Open-heartedness seems unsafe, so we disconnect. We build little barriers that distance us from pain, but also distance us from our true selves.

An enormous benefit of raising children through the wisdom of Magda Gerber’s “Educaring” philosophy is that it helps to preserve a child’s connection to self. This realization first came to me through a young German woman, Sieglinde (Siggy), who helped care for my toddler a couple of mornings a week. I had spoken to her excitedly and at length about infant expert Magda Gerber’s ideas when we met, and she instantly ‘got’ the concept that infants and toddlers are whole people — unique human beings ready to participate actively in life and deserving of the same respect one would give any other person.

One day Siggy and I discussed the natural spiritual connection that babies and toddlers seem to have. “Well, they’ve just come from a very spiritual place,” I conjectured. Siggy nodded. “And what you are doing keeps them there a little longer.”

Embracing Magda Gerber’s theories of trust and respect for babies has made me an advocate for my children’s true selves. When they were infants and toddlers, I encouraged their intrinsic motivation by allowing them to occupy themselves in a safe area with long periods of uninterrupted, self-directed play.

Over the years I have tried to let my children’s projects (whether creative or academic) be theirs, and to remain an observer and supporter rather than a participant. And since I trust my children to know themselves better than I possibly can, I’ve always allowed them to choose how they spend their free time (within reason) and waited for them to express an interest in any extra-curricular activity before signing them up. Lately, I’ve trusted one child’s decision to drop out of an advanced science class that she could clearly handle academically, but found no joy in. I encouraged another child who has a passion for photography to continue taking her photos (see above!), no matter how many zillions of other teenage photographers she knows.

Trusting my children has never proven to be a mistake, and so far it seems to have kept them in contact with the wishes of their hearts. When a child’s ‘self’ is wholeheartedly accepted, trusted, even honored, she can cling to it with pride. I relish the occasional glimpse of my children’s true selves.

It was my son’s eighth birthday recently, and he had the precarious task of bringing three dozen cupcakes on a crowded school bus to his classroom for a celebration. His twelve-year-old sister, whom we nickname “Mommy Number Two” because of her often strict authoritarian relationship with him, was in her usual early morning mood. She adores her brother, but when it’s morning and she’s grumpy, he is the source of all evil. As they hurriedly got out of the car, my daughter, wearing her abusively heavy backpack, surprised me by picking up the two shopping bags of cupcakes. “Wait for me when you get off the bus so you can show me where your classroom is,” she ordered him. “I can help!” said my son. “I’ve got it,” she retorted gruffly, and I watched them rush off to the bus together. Driving home, I cried grateful tears.

This Thanksgiving I am bursting with gratitude for the guidance of Magda Gerber. She encouraged me to trust my children to follow their own hearts and experience the sorrow and joy of a rich, full life. She has inspired me to do the same. So, I am thankful for all my 3AM worries. I’m glad for all the pain, the frustration, the pride and exhilaration of being a mom. I am basking in gratitude for the love of my husband and children, onion pies, apple pies, my wonderful sisters, nieces and nephews, and the beautiful, tender memories of my mother’s laughter.

“Look into your heart and you’ll find that the sky is yours.” – Jason Mraz

(Photo by Frolic!)

When a child is two or three years old he experiences one of life’s biggest miracles. He rings a doorbell, calls out a simple phrase and a grown-up hands him candy! What could be more divine?

The miracle of candy is undoubtedly the bedrock of a child’s love for Halloween. But there are other elements of Halloween children delight in and can savor as much as the sugary sweets. When we invite our children to fully participate in holiday activities, new traditions are created that make the experience richer for everyone. Let’s start with pumpkins…

A two-year-old child can choose a pumpkin. It might be the most lop-sided, lumpy and unattractive pumpkin we’ve ever seen, and it may not even stand up properly, but does that matter? When we let go of the notion of creating the ‘perfect’ holiday from our point-of-view and allow a child to lead in the fun, it lightens our spirit, and our child gains self-confidence because we are trusting his choices. Participation is the key.

When we bring the lumpy pumpkin home our toddler can participate in carving it (but not with a knife). If the child wishes to scrawl something, anything with a pen or crayon on the pumpkin, we can carve the drawing. Our child enjoys watching us carve out her creation, even if it’s just a crooked line. And when a candle is placed inside, the jack-o-lantern is complete and it is a creation our toddler takes pride in. (These look really cool. You may never want to go back to carving faces again.)

But if mommy or daddy is carving a masterpiece nearby, a child may not have the incentive to make anything. When we draw, sculpt, carve or even build a sandcastle for our child, we discourage her from doing those things herself. If she can’t do as well as mommy or daddy, why bother? The unfortunate result of this is that our children disengage from an activity that might have provided a creative outlet. I witnessed vivid proof of this theory several years ago…

My husband and I brought our three-year-old daughter to his company’s family picnic at the park. One of the children’s activities was to decorate T-shirts with tubes of paint.  My daughter was given a white T-shirt and we sat at the picnic table together. I was utterly amazed when all the parents began showing their children how they should design a T-shirt by painting it themselves. There was not one parent who would trust a child to decorate his own T-shirt; the adults completely dominated. “Let’s put a sun over here. And now I’ll write your name.” Was it because it was a T-shirt and not just a piece of paper? Was a T-shirt too valuable to leave in the hands of a three-, four-, five-, six- and even seven-year-old? Would the child’s creation not be ‘good enough?’

The end result of this spontaneous experiment was illuminating. The T-shirts were hung out to dry in a tree. None of the children showed the slightest interest in the finished T-shirts. The parents retrieved them after they had dried, but the children could not have cared less. They had contributed nothing to the shirts and felt no ownership.

Meanwhile, my daughter sat completely absorbed as she took a tube of paint and squeezed it to make a short vertical drip on her T-shirt. Young children are usually more inclined to experiment with the mechanics of art materials than they are to conjure up a design. She chose another color and made another line on her shirt. Immersed in this process, she made one line after another, each with a different tube of paint.

She and I lingered, long after the other children, who had watched their parents paint designs on T-shirts, had left the table. There were just a few latecomers left. When my daughter finally finished she admired her work and said thoughtfully, “I’m an artist.”  “Yes, you are,” I replied. A parent across from us smiled at me in a conspiratorial and slightly demeaning way. We hung the T-shirt up to dry and my daughter wanted to check on it twenty minutes later. At the end of the company picnic, she proudly took it home.

This event was a profound lesson for me, and it reinvigorated my belief that children must be left alone to direct their artistic endeavors. There is little reason for a child to be involved in an art project if it’s not produced solely by the child. When we well-meaningly demonstrate our own creative talents for our children we risk making them feel incapable, discouraged and disinterested. Our children need to be trusted to participate, not only in art projects but in all the activities they encounter, to the furthest extent of their capabilities. Now, back to Halloween…

A child as young as two is capable of choosing his Halloween costume. When my eldest was two she said she wanted to be a “kitty-cat.” If I was crafty I could have made something with her, but instead I took her to a costume store and she chose between the several cat costumes they had. She chose a black, cartoonish cat costume and wore it well.

This was the beginning of a long line of yearly costume decisions made by my three children. Halloween should be a time of fantasy. What other day in the year are we encouraged to live out a wish to be someone or something other than who we are?  I don’t ever suggest costumes to my kids because it’s so much more interesting to wait to see what they comes up with on their own. Allowing them to make choices encourages the expression of their inner desires.

I’m also a believer in Trick-or-Treating and parties for toddlers that are as wholesome and child-friendly as possible. Less is more. Sometimes just going to the houses of a few jolly neighbors is best. Beware of parties where people dress for shock value, like the one where an acquaintance of mine, who should know better, dressed as a drunken wife-beater. (That may have been his fantasy, but it was a bit too real for my tastes.) Children don’t understand horror costumes, or people covered in blood. Toddlers are sensitive and we want to keep them that way.  My middle daughter’s first Halloween night at 2 ½ was almost ruined by a talking pumpkin that terrified her when it spoke the nightmarish words: “Give me your candy!”

My youngest had a more glowing first Trick-or-Treat experience. We had just left our house with him attired in his chosen outfit: a ghost in a sheet, when it began to rain. We visited a couple of houses before it started pouring. I picked him up and ran with him down the street, both of us giggling. We stopped at just one more house where a party was in progress, and there outside stood a tall, lovely woman in an elaborate angel costume offering candy. When we got home my son burst into the house soaking wet and exclaimed to his dad, “I saw an angel!” A celestial vision and the heavenly taste of candy made for an indelible first impression of Halloween.

Halloween can be a time of wonder, imagination and creativity for children if we can suspend our perceptions of how it ‘should’ be, and see it through our child’s eyes.

What are you going to be?