Julian has a set of friends who are identical triplets and on any given day he announces their rank in terms of kindness. One of them is always declared the meanest. Of the two others, most of the time C is the kindest, but sometimes it is also D, even though D is the one with whom he spends the most time. I ask if he’s friends with all of them and he says yes, of course he is. This rank has no bearing on his overall affection for the siblings. They come together. He just wanted me to know this as a matter of fact.
Matter-of-fact-ness is a strong quality of his. A completely practical observation. No conjecture. Very little judgement. Unconcerned with whether you agree or disagree. It’s a quality that is very distinct from his sister’s and many other kids’ modes of operation, which can be laced with some deeper sense or understanding of social dynamics, power, trading in status, or social preference. It can make him blind to other perspectives, or tune them out completely, but often his take is also more genuine, less...complicated, less…loaded.
It makes me think about how I inadvertently attach virtue to some of my own kids’ traits as preferable—or more desirable— and often overhear parents remarking to others—sometimes with envy in their voice—about the traits of kids they observe that their own struggle with. “Your kid is so verbal,” is the sometimes backhanded-compliment of the toddler set. Your kids are so polite. So calm. So good at listening. They tell you so much about what happens at school, while I don’t hear anything. They’re so naturally athletic. So musical. So motivated. They don’t seem to get jealous. They have such self-control.
The implication here—I think—is hardly that they’re complimenting your parenting that directly. It’s that whatever way your kid is, they have some perceived advantages that gnaw at their own anxieties. It’s often an observation of some other kid’s seeming precociousness, but also somewhere they’re looking out for their own kid perhaps being “behind.” These anxieties can be at odds with modern parenting frameworks that encourage us to embrace our kids as entirely unique and individual, moving at their own pace. We supposedly want to encourage all their passions and proclivities, but we all know that thriving at things that have outward / social validation—which certain qualities elicit more than others—also helps garner notice, which we adults, also notice. And how do you not step in when you know what the world likes to validate certain attributes, when you don’t see those attributes in your own kid?
Of my own kids: One is more empathetic. One is more aware of the dynamics of power. One is deeply competitive but in denial about it. One is unfazed by losing at games. One is acquisitive to a default, which is overwhelming for the rest of us, but also leads to an appreciation for every shiny speck on Earth. One is more content — about to sit with their own, quiet mind. One is very good at being noticed in a crowd. One becomes lazy upon realizing their own moderate competence at anything. One creates art as though it flows from their fingertips. One finds joy in the mundane more easily. One sleeps more restfully. One is more willing to try new foods and flavors. One is more prone to jealousy but also more nurturing. One is more likely to rage but also to envelop you in affection. One is more deeply perturbed by the cruelty in this world. One is more anxious. One is more likely to break out into song.
It’s impossible to know which of these is more malleable, which will dissipate over time or be socialized out of them, or which of the attributes that get you anywhere you want to go in your life can be learned or are just there in some dose, large or small. I was a paralyzingly shy kid who learned to be comfortable speaking in front of board rooms and running many a large meeting without fainting. It does happen. It was not due to my parents. The characteristics, of course, that are the most potent to observe, are the ones I share with both of my kids: you know the flaws of those ones inside and out. You see where it can go, for good and for bad and that can crack you open.
I was ruminating on this as I went to a yoga class the other day and my favorite teacher started off asking everyone to sit on blankets and close their eyes. Her college-aged daughter happened to be in the front row. With her exceedingly calm voice, and as she started to play the harmonium, she said, on repeat: “Observe the outside, observe the inside — without the need for change.” I heard this as an exercise in noticing, also in quelling the spiral of thoughts, and as always in tending to kids—a good reminder to exhale and let it go.
Recommendations:
To see:
Lauren dela Roche’s solo show at Eric Firestone Gallery on Great Jones Street up through 6/15
To watch:
The F Word, a 6-minute short on the New Yorker where a dad tries to explain the versatility of the word “fuck” to his daughter. Very sweet and funny esp if you also have kids in the shocked-and-intrigued-by-swearing era of their lives.
Babes [links to trailer] the movie, starring Ilana Glazer and Michelle Buteau, directed by Pamela Adlon, which I got to catch in an advance screening last week and is so well written, so funny, and was entirely a delight. Related: Pamela Adlon’s wonderful Talk Easy interview from Mother’s Day.
Bridgerton, Season 3, obviously. Binged the first 4 eps in one night and love how many theories everyone has about this show. Pure candy.
To read:
Emily Gould’s Why Do So Many Celebs Write Children’s Books? which asks the question I’ve asked myself so many times. The subtext is obviously: why do so many celebs write terrible children’s books.
We All Want Impossible Things by Catherine Newman is an incredible novel about lifelong friendship. It’s set in hospice as one of the friends nears her end of life but is so much more about deep love, connectedness and joy than it is sad.
All Fours by Miranda July: I mean — every 40ish year old woman I know is reading this or thinking about reading this — and you should too, so we can have a global book club about perimenopause and all its related impulses.
I got to share my media diet over at the great newsletter, Why is this Interesting?, a fun spin through the world of regular podcasts / news / books / etc in my orbit.
The “cub street diet” with Clare de Boer, chef at Stissing House (among others) on The Green Spoon, which is how I would like to feed my kids, but not how I actually succeed in feeding my kids.
The kids are obsessed with:
Sleeping Queens, the fun and easy-to-learn card game that some of y’all recommended to me.
From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, ever more fun after a recent trip to the Met, which Jacob’s been reading aloud to them.
Fighting over cardboard boxes, roly polies, and who gets the last hug before bed.
Recs, please: Best chapter books for kids for the post-Harry Potter phase? (for a rising 4th grader?) Ada’s been liking everything by Kelly Yang, but I feel like this is the book zone I’m least knowledgeable about! Loading up for summer…
I love reading this newsletter, Youngna. Just wanted to say so!
Percy Jackson and all the spin offs have been totally brilliant here with my myth obsessed 6yr old and magic loving 10 yr old