My daughter had a major meltdown on the second day of school. Over shoes. She’s six. (Yikes!)
We arrived at school without her “high-heels” pictured above. They’d made their debut appearance on the first day of school. She reported back that her teacher said high heels were not allowed in first grade. Based on that information, I removed said shoes from her backpack before we left the house on Day 2.
Upon arriving at school and learning that the coveted shoes were not in her backpack, my beloved daughter responded with great drama. Now, drama is drama. Whether it is at home or office (or school), it really takes something to not get immediately sucked in as a full-fledged participant, being equally dramatic.
In the shoe debacle, it was hard to keep from being unduly influenced by the unfolding drama of a first grader in tears. Not tears of sadness (that would have been much, much easier to empathize with and comfort), but rather hot, angry, raging tears. Much as I tried to remain calm, I admit it, I got sucked into the drama a few times.
Emotions are contagious. I’ve written elsewhere about that recently.
When I felt my exasperation overtaking my empathy and my attempts at being rational, I took a few steps back (literally, I needed the distance) and breathed deeply. This is a skill I’ve been working with my daughter to develop, too. Whether we are six, the mother of a six-year-old, or working with those who are 26, 36, 46, 56, or 66, things don’t always go our way. We suffer set-backs, road blocks and rules that we balk at. And so do the people around us.
The more we can keep our head on around others who may, for the moment, seem as if they’ve completely lost theirs, the faster they will come around. For every moment that I expressed my exasperation, it took twice that time to calm my daughter down. The more I could be calm and rational, the more it created a space for her to be calm and rational. My emotions are contagious on her, too. And that’s important to remember when emotions are running high and hot.
Resolution came in the form of recognizing each other’s needs. I acknowledged that she had a “need” to have her high-heels with her at school that day, despite not being able to wear them. She “needed” them in her backpack. I needed to get to the office, a need she had little care or concern about. But in order to get my need met, it was critical that I acknowledge her perspective, validate her concern and commit to future action (she could take the shoes to school tomorrow).
If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check that her shoes are in her backpack!