Face Lights Up

They confront us in the places where our heart isn’t open. And when it is, they reinforce and reward in us the joy of an open heart. (Stephen Levine).


The Bath Scene, B aged 5 and R aged 2
I am in the bath with the R. I had promised him this as a treat after I wounded him deeply by, in a moment of stress, shouting at him for scribbling on the B’s homework. R explained tearfully that he just wanted to do some too.

R likes to lie on my tummy in the bath, floating happily, while I go through my entire repertoire of nursery rhymes. Isn’t that lovely?

B decided not to join us. After assuring himself that I was thoroughly incapacitated he decided to raid my locked cupboard. The locked cupboard (out of bounds) is the last safe house for Things Not For Children (eg: nail polish remover, paracetamol pointy scissors). B had long ago found the key (not hard especially as Mummy can never remember where she hid it) opened the cupboard, hidden the key where Mummy can’t find it and now he also has forgotten where he has hidden it.

He starts to make damands.

B: ‘I want this cupboard Mummy. Can I put my things in this cupboard?’

Mummy is feeling very mellow but is not really listening. She is thinking, I am enjoying this bath and humming nursery rhymes and I want the B to be happily playing and all to be well.

Mummy; (generous, warm-hearted) I tell you what, you can share it with me.

B: But I want ALL OF IT

Mummy: (still just about warm hearted, the water is very relaxing) Just move my things onto one shelf and you can have the other

B: I want to take all your things OUT.

Mummy: (still not listening, instead thinking, why is he annoying me? I can’t deal with this now I am tired, I am in the bath. Can he never stop Wanting Things and just play? etc.)

Mummy: No, it will make too much mess. You can have one shelf and that is my final offer.

B: (Throws a horrible tantrum during which me makes Horrible monstrous child demands and screeches deafeningly)

At this point the normal war outcome would be some pretty heavy shouting fire and the lobbing of judgemental and crushing statements, to 'make it go away', fuelled by thoughts such as: why is he being such a monstrous child? And then not listening to the answer.

Mummy: (Suddenly remembers children are never upset for the reason you think, breathes deeply into the abdomen, also breathes out, is inspired:) Come in here and talk to me. (genius, genius)

B: (Appears unwillingly in front of bath, Face like thunder, thunder which threatens to last for up to an hour or until Mummy can bear it no longer)

Mummy: (Has fleeting and very satisfying image of roaring out of the bath like a grisly sea monster and counter-attacking, but retains self-control and tries instead): Are you saying that you need a place to keep some of your things safe from your brother?

B: (Face lights up) yes

Mummy: When we put the shelves up in your bedroom, how about we have a special box which you can lock on the top shelf and you can hide the key?

B: Yes, yes, and (goes on to outline several schemes he has in mind. This cheers him up no end, even though the likelihood of J-C and I ever getting round to putting up the shelves before the end of the world is slim)

Why didn’t he tell me in a straightforward manner? Probably something to do with the fact that he is a child. Why did he do it by making demands? Well, he could have learned that off me.