A Thousand Thoughts

Somewhere along the line, parents absorb the message that kids ought not to splash water out of the bath.

Splashing is fun, and baths aren’t big enough, so happy splashes are probably going to wet the floor. But, depending on the kid, it’s doable to tone it down and keep the water in the bath. 

I remember years ago, well before our collective Autistic, PDA, and ADHD revelations, and our shifts through and into Plan B and low demand parenting and living, someone in a group I was part of asked about discipline in the case of a kid splashing in the bath after asking them not to. 

The responses were mixed, and mine at the time was a ‘natural consequence’ one – I said if you’ve announced that the kid will need to get out of the bath if they keep splashing, then they need to get out of the bath if they keep splashing. That seemed straightforward to me, in that at least the expectation had been explained. I was in the minority there – the other suggestions were about various other responses, which to me seemed unconnected, confusing, and probably a bit too full on.

These days, living in the sunbeams of joyful respect for my own wisdom and judgement, floating free from standard ideas and ‘shoulds’ that pinned me down, it’s almost automatic for me to think through a series of things quickly: 

What’s my expectation and why?

Is that actually important?

If yes, is it achievable and reasonable in the specific scenario for the kid in front of me?

If it’s important but not reasonable (possible), adjust the situation so the kid doesn’t have to dig for self control or [insert big thing here] that is not accessible right then.

If it’s not important, drop the expectation and let whatever happens happen. And that’s where I mostly sit. 

Tonight there was an angry kid in the bath. The bubbles were wrong. The water was the wrong height. They were hungry but didn’t know what to eat. They smacked the water hard and it hit the floor, me, other things. That must have felt good, because they smacked the water a lot more and yelled their frustration with everything.

This is the point I’m *supposed* to enter with discipline. I don’t know why water on the floor became a high water mark (ha ha) for kid behaviour and parent authority, but I feel like it did. Even my old self (see approach above) might have intervened here. And some nights, if it’s playful and controllable, I might ask them to adjust.

But this kid in the bath tonight? Well she’s been up since 6, she’s played hard and well, she’s been to “The Yooff Club” again with her brother, she was part of spontaneous exploration afterwards in the nearby park and a different library, she’s welcomed and done paintings with my lovely friend who came round this arvo… and she’s three.

I moved her iPad out of splashing range and chucked a towel down in front of the bath. That pretty quickly got soaked and I threw down more. It’s more washing and more walking up and down stairs for my tired body but really, the water on the floor does not matter.

The water on the floor does not matter.

The expression of what my kid was feeling does matter, and the way they expressed it was completely suitable. 

The towels are still on the floor, and they don’t matter either.

I don’t rest easily (ever) and it’s hard to walk away from mess or jobs cos I know my brain has to start from scratch next time I see the thing left undone.

But seeing what is real and important in my here and now is delicious in a soul-nourishing way. I mean, who really cares? Really? Today has been an amazing one for us.