When I was 12 years old, I decided I was going to be a vegetarian. Soon after this decision, I was in public with my mom. Somehow, the topic came up in conversation with another adult. The adult said to my mom, “Don’t worry; it’s just a phase. She’ll grow out of it soon.”
Reader, it is 30 years later, and I am still a vegetarian.
When I’m at my factory settings, I am a pretty stubborn person. I can get past this predisposition if I am convinced there is a good reason for it. I certainly try to be open-minded and to seek new information and points of view. But like I said, when I wake up in the morning, or on any given occasion, particularly if I feel like I’m being manipulated, hornswoggled, or pandered to, I am steadfast and strong-willed.
It probably doesn’t come as a surprise that this is one of the character traits that some of my children arrived with as well. I find that the quirks and behavior that are most difficult for me to tolerate are the ones I see in myself that I have a hard time accepting, or that I have old ideas about because of the way that I was parented.
Most of us are familiar with common behavioral phases that children may exhibit in the course of their development – infants throwing food or having stranger anxiety, toddlers biting or having tantrums, preschoolers beginning to talk back or exert their independence. Each of these presents its own challenges, frustrations, joys, and opportunities for growth.
Judaism views childhood as a period of purity, joy, and beauty to be valued and cherished. The Talmud states that “childhood is a garland of roses” (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 152).
I’ve appreciated and enjoyed certain parts of each developmental phase my children have gone through. When they were newborns, I loved how they would crunch up like little peanuts, as though they hadn’t yet gotten used to having enough room to stretch out. When they were babies, I loved how their eyes would find mine and their entire face would break into a smile of pure joy in recognition that I was Ima. As toddlers, their unique personalities began to show, and with one child I’d be plunged into a random pretend play scenario and have to guess what we were pretending with very little context. It was the pretend-play equivalent of the TV show Quantum Leap.
I also struggled with sleep deprivation during the newborn stage, fought to find balance as I returned to work when they were infants, and disliked how long everything took when they were toddlers and it felt like we needed to plan for two days to get out the door. Phases can be really difficult and trying, especially so when there are elements of behavior in them that we find challenging. Childhood may be a garland of roses, but that doesn’t mean it constantly is for the people raising the children.
What I didn’t know when my kids were very small was that we rarely know when something happens for the last time. As difficult as nighttime wakings were with infants, and as happy as I was when they slept through the night, I didn’t know I would also miss feeding and cuddling them. I don’t know the last time I was invited to jump into a pretend play scenario I wasn’t expecting; I just know it doesn’t happen anymore and it’s only part of my memories now.
Sometimes, the best that I can do with a challenging phase is to think:
What if this were the first time, the last time, the only time you got to do this?
This question doesn’t necessarily make the tough times easier, but it does give me some perspective to know that nothing lasts forever and even the parts I love are fleeting. I hope it reminds me to enjoy each moment and to be grateful for this time.
