It’s true. Children believe that the world does, in fact, revolve around them. Such innocent self-centeredness stems from this limited period in their lives when they are fully catered to, their needs are met without request or explanation, and virtually all of life’s problems can be solved with a blanket warm from the dryer, some snuggle time, and an Oreo. Children are self-centered in the most amazing and lovely way because their protective bubble has yet to be popped and their entire universe is centered among a group of people who love them unconditionally.
They are sheltered because they should be and, as parents, we all cringe at the thought of their innocence being shattered someday when our protective grip loosens and they learn what life is really all about.
I get it. My children, too, are in a bubble. I have launched across the room like a ball from a cannon to avoid them seeing something a bit “too real” on television, and cup their ears dramatically when an adult conversation takes an unexpected turn. I want to wrap them in a literal and figurative bubble wrap that will allow ugliness to bounce off of them and spare them the cuts and bruises that come with taking one of life’s corners too fast. Our house is the home planet and Kansas City the universe when it comes to their frame of reference and, for now, that’s perfectly fine when it comes to some things. There are other things in this great big world, however, that I not only do not want to protect them from, but I want to expose them to.
I was a freshman in high school before I took my first foreign language class. Until then, the world outside of my charming Iowa girl existence didn’t really play a role in my life or what I wanted to do with it. And, it wasn’t until I reached college that the wonders of the world — the cultural differences, beauty of different lands, and people living in them — resonated with me at all. Once open to such wonders, however, I simply couldn’t get enough. I backpacked around Europe, slept on the dirty floors of trains, and stayed in questionable hostels that my parents would have promptly dragged me from had they known that I was there. I ate bread and cheese in France (money was limited), drank cheap wine on the steps of an Italian cathedral, and became friends with fellow adventurers from all over the world with the help of creative charades to communicate. And, I loved every thrilling minute of it.
My boys are young, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t travel the world within the confines of our current universe. We listen for accents and discuss what part of the world they’re from. We explore maps and talk about how kids their age may be spending their days across the world. When my boys’ preschool was looking for speaker volunteers for Passport Around the World week, I showed up with wooden spoons and Russian nesting dolls, stories of purple soup (borsch), and money that looked nothing like the coins nestled securely in their piggy banks back home. We take the time to stop by the Kansas City Irish Center at Union Station so my boys can learn a bit about their Irish heritage (though I have yet to share that daddy’s relatives got kicked out of the country for stealing potatoes) and talk about artistic masterpieces and where they were painted. Kansas City, with ten sister cities around the world, offers a smorgasbord of cultural events and opportunities for a little one’s eyes to grow wide and their minds to be opened without leaving the comfort or safety of home – protective bubble fully intact.
So, at the first sign of boredom and before they have the opportunity to complain, maybe we should hand our kids a map and tell them to travel wherever their interests take them. The world really is an amazing place and it’s never too early to start opening those magic doors so our kids will want to explore it someday. Once that grip of ours loosens, isn’t that what we really want for them?
