Movin' On: Helping Preschoolers When Friends Move Away

 NOTE: This post appeared previously on The Chicago Moms Blog in June 2010.

We just got word that our closest friends in Chicago are moving. Moving back East, moving away from here, moving away from us. I am so sad - of course I am - these friends are loyal and kind, and they understand the challenges of raising a young family far from the benefits of grandparents and extended family. I can't count the times that one of us has come to the other's aid, watching the kids when a husband was supposed to be home in time for an appointment or a meeting, or doing a weeknight dinner together when the husbands were both traveling. And what about all the fun we had? Adjusting to their departure is going to be major.

But enough about me.

I have no idea how to help my four year old son manage this process. He was 14 months old when we moved to Chicago, and the two girls in this family were his first friends. He goes to school with the younger sister, and I sort of think they believe they are related. Frequently I find them hugging and sharing some kind of secret - they spend more time together than they do with any other friends.
When I told my son these friends were moving, he just burst into tears. I think that he understands the concept because my husband and I know that his career will likely take us even further West, and we try to casually mention that we probably won't live in the same house forever. But the concepts of time and space are so challenging for our little concrete thinkers! When he started to cry, I was shocked. Well, and I started to cry, too - empathy tears: His pain was becoming my pain.

How do I help him cope with the loss of friends without dragging the process out forever? Should I just wait for issues to come up or should I preempt them with questions and conversation? As it is, my son kept coming up with ideas to get around the reality of the move. He insisted that he could stand on the roof of our house, grow wings, and fly to visit them whenever he wanted. Then he got real, and said we should make a special trip up from New York, where we vacation, to Boston to see them. Then he figured he could work in a little bonus for himself, suggesting that we meet them for a ball game at Fenway. So, he's still a four year old - that's encouraging!

He is, however, going to have to work through his feelings about all of this, and I am sure there will be times when it isn't pretty. That's okay. He''ll struggle with it, even if I'm not so sure how to help him figure it all out.



This is an original Chicago Moms Blog post. Thanks to Suat Eman for the photo, courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Teach Your Children Well: Reflections on Discipline

We have entered the dreaded "talking back" phase with the Talker. He is doing his "job" as an intelligent, headstrong 5 year old by pushing on our boundaries to see how far he can go.  This is all well when we are not in the "heat of the moment," attempting to guide him towards positive behaviors. In those hot moments, things can get ugly pretty quickly.  Add a new infant to the family and our general parental exhaustion, and you have a recipe for some seriously ineffective discipline.

I like to think that I am a patient person - but in these moments (or sometimes hours, or -gulp- days), I am humbled by my own lack of control over my own emotions.  Family teaches us so many positive lessons in life - but there are some doozies mixed in, too. My own father recently reminded me to avoid parenting from my emotions. In those "doozy moments," parenting with detachment is vital to retaining our sanity and self-control as adults. I don't think he equates detachment with passivity, however. Doling out consequences without shouting or losing control is the key.  And of course logical consequences is also key.

Recently, the Runner and the Talker resolved their own doozy in a unique way. We have been working on building the Talker's understanding of empathy and caring for others, starting with family members. When a disagreement between them began to heat up, the Runner regained parental control of the situation by engaging our son in an intellectual manner - which happens to be his preferred method of using his brain. Together, they wrote a prayer that focused on the Talker's development only. The prayer was typed and shared with me on the coveted iPad, complete with a Celtic Cross in the background. The Runner has promised to print and frame it so that the Talker can say the prayer each morning and each night as a reminder of the emotional and interpersonal skills he is working on. A constructive end to what began as a blood boiler.

Creative parenting, perhaps. This resolution took the focus away from the power struggle between the big dad and the small boy and changed it to a collaboration that allowed the Talker to understand a few of the "long term goals" his parents happen to have for him. Be compassionate. Be kind. Be respectful.

Amen.