Personality Hack
“I got that Mom's phone number so we can set up a playdate! I am so excited lol” I texted my sister.
BIANCA: Omg. I’m so jealous.
BIANCA: How brave of you!!!
ME: She actually asked for my number!
BIANCA: Wow. You are a hot commodity
ME: It’s Hazel really, everyone loves Hazel
BIANCA: She has your personality. So it’s you!!!
That text hit me like a ton of bricks. I had to sit with it for a bit. It’s so easy to recognize how amazing Hazel is. She’s smart, sweet, funny, cute, and curious. It’s clear as day. Why is it so hard to see those traits in myself? Of course, I can easily see that I’m lazy, selfish, unorganized, slow, and plain. I have my moments, but they are spots of light in a dark sky. Hazel is a whole star.
The other day, Hazel, my shining star, my 19-month-old daughter, screamed for 30 minutes straight. It started as we got into the car after stopping at one of our favorite restaurants, on the way back from Matt’s occupational therapy. She wanted to say goodbye to the waitress and just remembered her name, Gina, as I was buckling her in. It continued through the car ride home, but I figured once we got out of the confines of the car, she would calm down. I thought wrong. She screamed and contorted her body as I tried to get her out of her car seat. This is new, I thought to myself. Then she screamed when I put her down in our yard. I picked her up, scream. I put her down, scream. I left her down—at least this way I had free hands to help Matt.
I took a breath, trying to stay calm, hoping the feeling would catch. It didn’t. I let her run and scream it out while I helped Matt inside to lie down, hoping she would tire herself out. She didn’t. I came back and sat on the front steps. She ran up to me, I opened my arms, she screamed in my face, and ran away. I started to get concerned. I googled “19-month-old won’t stop screaming.” I knew she wasn’t hungry or thirsty, and I didn’t think she was teething; she normally points at her mouth or cheeks when it’s her teeth. Definitely not her diaper. The only thing I could think of was this thing with the waitress.
It was a little chilly out, and honestly, I felt embarrassed about the neighbors hearing, so I picked up my screaming, wriggling perfect angel and brought her inside, where we did more of the same. Part of me watched the scene from outside myself. So, this is the first tantrum. Is this what it’s gonna be like now? Keep it together, Amber, this is a make-or-break moment. This will shape her and you.
Why didn’t they send her home with a manual?! I turned back to Google “when to be concerned about screaming child?” I scrolled through mommy blogs on what to do in this situation. They told me to stay calm. I AM CALM!!! I wanted to shout at my phone. They suggested music, which I tried in the car, but why not, let’s try again. I put on some Chappell Roan, usually a hit. I didn’t think it was possible, but the screeching got louder and higher-pitched. I tried fart noises, she stopped, lip quivering, on the edge, but intrigued. I remembered one of the blogs suggested walking like different silly animals. Sure. I quacked and walked like a duck. I got a smirk. I did my best chimp. Smile. I did a chicken impression, slightly worried about doing two birds so close together or that she would think I was mocking her. She loved it! I imitated a horse. It KILLED. I galloped past her into her room and got her hobby horse. She never really played with it, but I realized she might get it now. I—and this felt really silly, but I pushed past it—talked to her using this horse head on a stick.
HORSE ON STICK: Hi (whinny) I’m Chestnut
Chestnut may be overplayed as a horse name, but it’s a classic for a reason. Plus, she doesn’t know that. Hazel smiled.
CHESTNUT: I’m having a hard day, can I have a hug?
Hazel nodded and hugged Chestnut. I was slightly jealous of Chestnut, but relieved.
CHESTNUT: Are you having a hard time too?
Hazel nods.
CHESTNUT: Did you want to say goodbye to Gina, but you couldn’t remember her name in time? (whinny for effect)
Hazel nodded again. I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation with my daughter through a hobby horse, and it was working!
CHESTNUT: Well (whinny), I heard she works there, and you will get to see her whenever you go back. It’s one of your family’s favorite restaurants, so it will be soon!
Maybe it was in my head, but Hazel seemed to be calmed by that; she seemed to understand. Maybe it was just vibes, but whatever it was, it worked, and we were able to work through it. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.
During this whole episode, I didn’t feel angry with Hazel, I just felt horrible that she had to experience this. Imagine being plopped into a bright and cold world, working to come to terms with the fact that you and your mom are no longer one, finally finding your way to your individuality, your will to power, working to communicate that will, only to be told no. What the hell, man?
As she was screaming, running to and away from me, I thought about times I’ve let my emotions get the best of me. How embarrassing it was to have anyone see me like that. I thought about how I can spiral at times and how, when that happens, it feels impossible to get back. And I’m a full-grown adult. If I can’t regulate my emotions, how can I expect this brand-new human to be able to?
I didn’t suddenly think she’s a bad person. I knew she was still my perfect angel, a perfect angel who was having a hard time. So why is it that when I have a hard time, my view of myself changes on a dime? If I make a small mistake, in my head, I am defined by it. It’s not a helpful mindset—it makes my spirals longer and deeper.
But if I have the same personality as Hazel, I am also worthy of love and understanding. I’m not a dumb bitch for forgetting my phone charger or a failure for crying when I can’t communicate clearly with Matt. I am also a child of the universe. I’m a full-grown adult, yes, but compared to the universe, I am a baby. These lessons on freedom, will power, oneness, and individuality take at least a lifetime to learn. I should be gentle with myself, like I am with Hazel.
What’s more, the way I talk to myself models for Hazel how she should talk to herself. Don’t worry, every time I catch myself being mean to myself in front of her, I make sure to beat myself up about it. I need a hack, something to get myself out of the spiral when it happens.
CHESTNUT: You’re doing a great job Amber (whinny), I love you.
Thank you, Chestnut, I love you too.
TLDR I am baby
This was beautiful! And sometimes I think that I wasn’t nearly as empathetic as I was before I had my kid.