Getting Something Out of Nothing
Written By Rachel Simpson
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Gone are the days when I knew every single detail of my 6-year-old daughter's life (that's Michaela, left), from when she slept to what she ate and when she pooped. In self-help language, I am learning to let go. Thank goodness it's a very gradual weaning.
In preschool her teachers drew up little info sheets about the kids' days: They went on a walk, played on the playground, and napped. I had something to work with. But in kindergarten I get, literally, nothing — until I find at the end of the week, crumpled at the bottom of her backpack, a photocopied note from her teacher listing the week's highlights.
I'm lucky now if she'll describe just one event in her school day to me. If I were to believe what she tells me, her daily life is really dull.
Me: How was school today?
Michaela: Good.
Me: What did you do?
Michaela: Mmm, nothing. Can I watch TV?
This from a child who can tell me the very complicated plot of an adventure she has constructed for her doll family, involving falls from great heights, travel across the open sea, and daring rescues.
I resigned myself to asking for help. I talked to friends. I searched the Net. I Googled "children, talk, day, nothing, school" and endless combinations thereof. I didn't find much, just a link to a site on which a school principal offers parents advice on relating to their teenagers. I read many parenting books, learning a lot about all kinds of things but not much, sadly, about this particular subject.
When I went to get my hair cut I ran into a child psychologist. Sitting in the chair ahead of me, she assured me that all kids do this. Beginning at about age 6, she explained, they keep information to themselves as a way of differentiating themselves from their parents. In effect, they're creating a separate life. Great.
She did, though, share a technique she had used with her own children. "I ask what was the most boring thing they did today," she said. That actually turned out to be a good one — until Michaela started answering it the same way: "Nothing."
Yep, pretty boring.
A friend whose kids are older said that what had always worked for her was to start the conversational ball rolling by asking her son, Tim, who he sat next to at lunch that day.
That also worked for a while.
Me: Honey, who did you sit with at lunch today?
Michaela: Ummmmm, I sat between Natalie and Chloe and then Natalie spilled her milk and then . . .
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