Happy Chaos (21 page)

But there's hope for me yet. After that class, I signed up for dance classes with Poet's teacher. I figure, if she can teach five-year-olds to dance, then she can teach me to dance. And I am really excited, even though I'm sure there will be plenty of embarrassing moments. I can just imagine all of the moms pulling up to a studio of preschoolers and seeing me there in my ballet clothes tripping over myself as I demi-plié. They are welcome to laugh all they want, and I will be doing the same, because no one loves laughing at herself as much as I do.

Jagger and me dressed up in eighties clothes. We love to have eighties dance parties, and Mama loves to embarrass herself.

I knew that eventually my sweet babies would grow up and roll their eyes at me over something. But I had no idea it would happen so soon! The important thing is not to take it personally and not to make too big a deal out of it. Children go through this at different ages. One week your child is happy for you to walk them to school hand in hand, and the very next day they drop your hand at the entrance. It can be really emotional for a mom or dad because it feels like the first step on a path of letting go. And in a way, it is. But it's important to remember that even as our kids are maturing, they still need us. So when your child is suddenly horrified that you hugged them in front of their friends, or waved to everyone on the playground, take a deep breath and remember that it is not about you. Just yesterday, I walked into Poet's school to pick her up in overalls and a hat. She shouted in horror in front of her classroom filled with kids: “Mom, what are you wearing?” She then told me that I can't dress like a cowboy/cowgirl. Well, this cowboy/cowgirl is proud—proud that I can let go and laugh at myself. And isn't that one of the best things we can teach our kids, how to laugh at ourselves?

My parents really embarrassed me as a kid when they . . .

“Used to tease me in front of my friends about which heart throb poster or picture was sticky-tacked on my bedroom door that week.”

—Ashley

“Wanted to come into my friends' houses when they dropped me off.”

—Sheila

“Never failed . . . As a teen, no matter when or where, which friend I had over, they always managed to have the urge to pop out their false teeth in front of my friends. One day on a mall trip, my mom decided to embarrass me on the escalator. She was talking to my friend right before she stepped on and then popped out the teeth. They flew out of her mouth and clattered down the escalator steps. I think that cured her.”

—Annette

“Would tell corny jokes to my friends.”

—Dana

“Would run late picking up my carpool. Or when my dad let my nickname slip in that very carpool (Dinky) and that is what everyone called me from that day on.”

—Jeannette M.

“Mom would sing very loudly in the car, as she was taking me & some friends to the movies. Funny thing is all my friends thought that I had the coolest Mom. I secretly did, too. :o)”

—Nicole A.G.

Question of the day: How do you help your kids when they have hurt feelings?

“I listen to them. I ask them what's wrong and try to help them feel better. I often offer a compromise so that everyone is happy. Usually this is the best solution and one that I feel teaches them about life in a deeper way that they may not fully understand just yet.”

—Jeannette C.

“Console them and try to explain the situation, whether it's concerning a mean kid or life giving them lemons. I also tell them it's ok to feel that way, and encourage them to share their feelings with me, no matter what those feelings are.”

—Dana

“I always talk to my kids about why they are sad or mad. I don't always get answers. It lets them know I am there. I might not always agree with what they say but they will always be supported.”

—Luna

“You can't! That's the real deal. Don't sugar coat it, it's a learning process. It's life. But we can be there for them to console them to let them know we care. If it's us that hurt their feelings, then own up, explain & apologize! We're all human!”

—Chaz

 

T
hink of all the little fights you got into with your friends in school over the years. One day you were the best of friends, and the next day your best friend announced that she was besties with someone else. It was tragic.

Now take all that emotion and multiply it ten times over, and that gives you a sense of what it was like on the set of
Punky Brewster
. There were only a few of us kids on the set day in and day out, and we worked together, went to school together, played together. We were like friends and siblings combined. It was
intense
at times. Plus, we were all actors. Oh, the drama! For the most part we got along great, but we did have our moments.

One day when we were all seven or eight years old, Ami did something to upset me, and that night I had a sleepover at Cherie's house. I drew a picture of Ami—not flattering—and I think I may even have written her name on it. The next day, the picture fell out of my notebook at school, and Ami saw it. She burst into tears, and then I burst into tears.

I don't think I have ever felt so totally ashamed in my life. I was not that person—the mean girl who likes making other girls feel bad about themselves. But in that moment suddenly I thought,
Oh my God, I
am
mean! I'm a mean, awful person!
Sobbing, I ran out of the classroom, across the soundstage, across the lot, down halls, and I just ran and ran and ran.

Finally I found a little office down a long hallway and I crawled underneath a table to wallow in my misery. After a while I heard footsteps enter the room. Then the face of one of the assistant directors appeared in front of me, peeking below the table. There was a crackle of his walkie-talkie, and I heard him say, “We found her. She's in Johnny Carson's office.”

It turns out that the entire Punky crew was out trying to find me while I was hiding in the King of Late Night's private office. Now I felt horrible and embarrassed, and I walked back to the set full of apologies. And then of course we were all friends again—until the next time one of us got mad at one or more of the others. That's life—on and off of a television set.

I look at my girls now, and I want to protect them from every possible insult they could ever absorb from the world—as if that's possible. I know that I'm supposed to let them learn to stand up for themselves and work things out with their friends—but it's so hard sometimes, especially when their feelings are hurt. That just breaks your heart.

Poet
loves
ballet, and she's been taking it for over a year, so she was incredibly excited to start ballet camp this summer. We went the first day, and she liked it just fine, but then the next day she seemed really nervous to go back. Jagger and I went with her to class just as we'd done the day before, and as we were getting in, I remembered that I hadn't taken Poet to the bathroom. A not-yet-five-year-old definitely needs to go the bathroom before jumping around in a leotard. So I whispered to her—obviously not quietly enough—“Hey Poet, let's go to the bathroom.” Suddenly a commotion went up around the room, and one of the older girls said, “Eeeeew, you have to go to the bathroom. Yuck!” Then all the other girls picked up the chorus. Poet was mortified, and I was horrified. Then I got totally defensive. “She's helping me with her little sister!” I said. As if I had anything to justify to a bunch of little girls. It was like I was five years old myself. Oh, how quickly those memories of childhood tragedies come flooding back.

When we got into the bathroom, Poet said, “I don't want to stay, Mommy.” I tried to make her feel better and not take it so personally—I said, “Honey, it's okay, sometimes people in life say things they don't mean . . . not because they don't like you, though!” Then I told her that in life we'll have challenges, not everyone will be nice all the time, but in your heart know that you're a really good person, and that's why it's important to be kind to others. Meanwhile, she was looking at me with her sad eyes, and everything I said sounded like an excuse. It was killing me, and all the while I was trying not to say what I was really thinking:
Those girls were being mean!

So we went home, and Poet was still inconsolable. I called Jason to tell him about the class, and how I had run out of things to say to Poet. He said, “Let me talk to her.”

This became one of those times when I fell in love with my husband all over again. Poet listened intently, then she said, “Okay, Daddy,” and she handed me the phone. Then she danced away like nothing had happened.

I said to Jason, “What did you say to her?” Seriously, it was like a magic transformation had just taken place.

This is what he told me he said to her: Some days our friends don't feel as loved as they should, so they spread that hurt around. We're lucky we have a family that loves each other and is kind to each other. Sometimes we hurt each other's feelings, too, but we apologize and then we come back around.

Wow. It was simple, not defensive, not angry. Just clear, and calm, and loving. And I could tell just by looking at Poet's face that she got it.

Of course I know that she'll get her feelings hurt again. But I also know that (eventually) she'll be okay, because she'll remember what her daddy said. And so will I.

Close your eyes. Now remember back to when you were seven or eight years old. Who was your best, best friend? Do you have that person's name and face in your head? Okay, now relish the memories of all of the rights and wrongs you did together and how that helped make you who you are today. When you fought with your friends, did your parents get in the middle, or did you resolve it yourself? I think we can learn so much from the children that we were and the parents that we have become.

Just as awful as it is to see our child hurt by another child, it can be downright horrifying when we see or hear that our child has hurt another child. I think it is really important to talk to our kids about kindness and compassion and also to allow them to teach us as well. Just the other day Poet said to me that I was being bossy to others. At first I was horrified but then I realized that she was trying to open my eyes to something that I obviously couldn't see. I leaned down to her eye level and said that it is not nice to be bossy toward others and that I don't want to be that way. I then thanked her for helping me see it. I really believe that when kids feel as though they are a part of your learning experience, they feel more passionate in their own growth.