Today was toddler playgroup for the three year old. Last time didn’t go so well. She spent the majority of the hour clinging to me and crying.
This week was slightly better. After a lot of reassuring that I wouldn’t leave until she was ready, she finally relaxed enough to at least participate in a few of the activities. Sigh.
Having kids can be so dang hard sometimes. And having a complex toddler who can’t explain to you why she was fine for one playgroup but not the next one is just another example. Since she can’t tell me what’s going on in her head, my only option is to guess.
So basically I’m handling a tough situation based entirely on what I THINK the problem MIGHT be.
In this case, I think she’s nervous. Nervous about being away from me. Nervous about being in a new place. Nervous about what she should do if she has to go potty or if she doesn’t like the snack. Nervous that other people won’t be able to understand her. Nervous that they won’t know when she needs help. Nervous that they won’t SEE her.
Or maybe these are just the things that I’m nervous about. Either way, it’s the best guess I have.
So I tell her, “It’s okay. It’s okay to be nervous about new places and new people. It’s okay to be nervous. But it’s more fun to play and learn and sing and all the things we do at school.”
This becomes my mantra for the morning, every time she clings to me a little tighter I remind her, “It’s okay to be nervous. But it’s more fun to play.”
And towards the end of an hour of repeating this, I realized something.
I don’t like what my wording implies. “It’s okay to be nervous, BUT….”
There is no but. It’s okay to be nervous. Period.
You can be nervous AND you can play. You can be nervous AND be brave. You can be nervous AND do new things, meet new people, write the novel, sing your heart out.
You don’t have to wait for the nervousness to pass before you get on with the other stuff. In fact, you SHOULDN’T wait. Maybe the nervousness will never pass. It might retreat to a corner of your mind. It might get quiet enough for you to forget it’s there.
Or maybe you’ll get lucky and it will disappear. But I wouldn’t count on it. Because over the course of your life, I hope you keep doing things that invite nervousness back into the picture. I hope you’re doing things that push your comfort zone just a little. I hope you let those things change you. I hope you show the world your beautiful soul in a way that feels real and true to you.
But doing those things is scary and I think nervousness is part of the package.
So. By the end of the hour my mantra had changed.
“It’s okay to be nervous. We can be nervous and still have fun.”
And so we did both.