Is it Darfur?

"Look.  Do you see that spot?  Right there?"  I squint and concentrate on an infinitesimally tiny dot near the bridge of Taara's nose.  

"Um…." I look at her, lean my head to one side, and cock an eyebrow.

"Amma!  Darfur….?"  she asks dispiritedly and throws her hands up in air. 

Sometimes if my children bring a problem to me which I think is a ridiculous, non-problem born of our privileged lives, I've been known to say (in a mildly, sarcastic voice) : "You don't live in Darfur!  You are not a child soldier in Sierra Leone.  A little perspective, please!"

I'll never forget the day my friend Bridget was listening patiently to her 3 year old daughter Lauren get worked into a lather about not finding her favorite socks or some such thing.  And just as we were feeling our nerves become dangerously frayed as Lauren whined on and on, Bridget took a basket of warm laundry and dumped it on Lauren's head.  The child dissolved into giggles and Bridget took the opportunity to say the discussion was over and to redirect her daughter to a new activity.  At 21, I think Lauren would agree that her mother's well-timed use of humor in the cases of non-problems helped her grow into the kind, caring, amazing woman she is today.  

And it helped me as I figured out my parenting style as well.  Not everything has to be processed and dissected.  Not every issue deserves our time and energy - time and energy we could be using to have fun, make beautiful memories, or even make the world a better place.   

When I mentioned this to Richard, our neighborhood philosopher who works at the local mini-mart, he looked shocked and said, "But do you hear her?"  Fair enough.  Sarcasm and gentle teasing have their place, but I do believe in licking one's wounds, being present in that moment to hear our children/friends/family members who are experiencing pain.  I don't think it's useful to always think about the bigger problems in the world.  There's a time for a bit of teasing/perspective-sharing and there's a time for active listening and compassion followed by solutions. Recently many high school seniors heard back from colleges to which they'd applied and some children were disappointed.  In that moment of sadness, telling the child to ''buck up" or "You think that's bad….? is not useful - it's cruel.  

So I went on to say to Taara,  "Yes, Darfur.  But let's go get the Neutragena acne wash and moisturizer."  I gave her a big hug and we talked about how I too used to look at myself in the mirror 812 times a day at her age.  I listened to her tell me about that boy and a science test and what she performed in singing club.  Because if I'm always lecturing and not listening, she'll stop talking.  Or if I'm always talking about problems in the world which are bigger than her's, she may get the message that she's not allowed to bring her problems to me; definitely not the message I want to send.