Sometimes I wonder if we're handling this whole Our Kid is So Shy that She Would Rather Swim in Battery Acid than Talk to a Stranger thing the right way. I see other kids who are equally appalled by the thought of making eye contact with random people and how their parents are handling it and wonder, "Are we doing enough?" or "Are we doing too much?"
Sometimes I see yelling and I know we're on the right side of that fence. The grass over there with the yellers may appear green, but there's doggy land mines all over the place and it's going to get real stinky over there eventually. I know that yelling at Alexis when she refuses to participate in a group activity will just make matters worse. And THANK GOODNESS I know that because when I see people doing it, I wonder if they realize that they look like a douchebag. Um, hello? If you're yelling at your kid for having a real phobia, you're doing it because you are embarrassed. The kid is fine. It's sometimes really, really, really hard to keep the temper contained when all you want is your kid to quit crying and DO SOMETHING, but it's doable.
Anyway.
During Alexis' birthday party, I worried we weren't doing enough when she ran off to hide during the piñata festivities. I thought maybe I should track her down. I thought maybe I should try to convince her to come hang out with everybody else. I thought maybe I should at least make it appear that I cared that she wasn't around. Mr. Husband and I have agreed to ignore it completely when she turns all anti-social, just so long as she seems OK with her retreat. So, we were ignoring that she was in the family room, and I'm sure some people were wondering where the heck the birthday girl was and why we didn't seem to care.
Oh, we cared all right. Trust me. WE CARED.
And then sometimes I think maybe we're on track. Maybe.
My rule with the shy thing has been that the kid can be shy as much as she wants, just so long as she doesn't cross over to rude. That means she is required to reply when asked a question, she has to use basic manners, and then there's a whole gray/fuzzy area that changes depending on my mood. Consistency, FTW! I actually do try to be consistent, but when some old hag without any teeth and scary purple hair shoves her face in my kid's space and starts asking her 41356324 questions, I kind of have to side with the kid and let her run and hide.
It is what it is.
Tonight we stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things to make French toast (because that's what you make when more snow is coming, or so Pittsburghers tell me). As we were checking out, one of the customer service peeps came over and asked if Alexis could have a balloon. The last time we were there and got a balloon, it floated away out in the parking lot and I had the special joy of watching my kid's face melt with disappointment, so I was quick to agree that she was due a balloon. A purple one, please and thank you and you will be my hero if you deliver.
The customer service peep returned bearing a purple balloon, and walked towards Alexis. Alexis looked up and instantly beamed as she realized the purple balloon was headed straight for her. She did a little happy hop as a smile spread to her eyes, cautiously reaching out to take the balloon directly from the stranger. As her finger clutched the balloon's ribbon, she looked directly into the customer service peep's eyes and said, "Thank you!"
And I knew we aren't doing all that bad after all.
