He doesn't hear what I say, he hears what I am

I finished day 2 of my 3 day intensive Solidworks 3D modeling class, feeling like an utter failure, to pick up my toddler son so his daddy could have a turn working.  We went to a fun restaurant that had a play area where one of the toys was a wooden puzzle.  I watched my little one take up the puzzle with shining eyes and enthusiastic arms - but he couldn't get the first piece to fit right away.  He only tried 2 times before he started beating the puzzle piece on the ground and crying.

As I reached down to start to help teach my son patience with himself, I heard my Solidworks teacher's voice echoing from my memory, the exact words I was about to tell Hayden.  Things like, "It's ok to not do it right away the first time" "Have patience with yourself - you are doing a great job"  That teacher had the same forlorn countenance when trying to teach me as the one I wore when I saw how upset my Hayden was.

I have been observing lately, over the last few months, that every child (of people I know, friends, people I see, etc) is a reflection of his parents.  When we see our own great struggles reflected back to us in the tender little ones we love most of all, we panic - we want to jump in and rescue.  We know how bad that particular pain feels and we want to save them from it. But we can't help them that way.

The son is afraid - of going into the ocean, of big dogs.  The boy's dad is not afraid of the ocean or big dogs and begs him to try, says things to build his confidence and make his son feel safe, but when the topic changes, he shows how afraid he is of his own big, unknown things - applying to a new job, taking risks. The mom tells her daughter that it's ok to be different - it makes her extra special - but when she is the odd one of the group, she feels so ashamed.

The kids don't care much for our words - they can see right through them, right through us.  Our only chance to tell them who to be and how to be is by showing them.  It was really hard for me today in my class full of mechanical engineers - I failed and failed and failed - I wanted to cry, I wanted to quit. Inside I was beating the floor and screaming in frustration - absolutely no better than Hayden with his puzzle.

It kills me to think my precious boy will feel those feelings.  I want him to know that he is fantastic as he is, no one gets it right the first time, enjoy the process as much as the result, you have a long time to learn these things and you absolutely will one day.

The only way I can teach Hayden how to be patient with himself is to be patient with myself first.

It will be really hard, but tomorrow is my last day of class, and I will take it as an opportunity to learn for myself the lesson that I am trying to teach Hayden.