Life Lessons
Toddler Teacher
Everything I need to know about aging, I’ve learned from a 3-year-old.
She moves through our house like a toddler tornado.
Running, playing, singing. Nothing bothers my granddaughter because she’s so delighted with life.
At about-to-be 3 years old this month, her favorite game is charades, which when it’s her turn consists of her walking aimlessly in circles as my wife and I prompt, “You’re doing Ring Around the Rosie.” “Yes,” she agrees, then follows directions to “all fall down” on cue in the living room of the home my wife and I share with her, our daughter, and our son-in-law.
I am amazed by her. She is so young and inexperienced, but I’ve found that all I need to know about aging in my 60s I’ve learned from her.
This recognition isn’t just my own. It’s endorsed by no less authority than The New York Times, in a recent article, titled “Who Has the Secret to Well-Being? The Answer May Surprise You: Toddlers — full of energy, curiosity and laughter — have a lot to teach adults, experts say.” The article reports:
Hasan Merali, an associate professor of pediatrics at McMaster University [in Hamilton, Ontario] and a pediatric emergency room physician, has treated thousands of patients between the ages of 1 and 5. In his book, Sleep Well, Take Risks, Squish the Peas: Secrets From the Science of Toddlers for a Happier, More Successful Way of Life, he writes that this group has an undeserved bad reputation. …
Yes, [Dr. Merali told the author], toddlers have tantrums, but research suggests that they occur, on average, once a day, and last three minutes.
The rest of the time, Dr. Merali said, toddlers are models of well-being. He shared a few good habits, common among the under-5 crowd, that can improve your mental and physical health.
Even before reading the Times article, I concluded on my own that toddlers have lots to teach us. As my granddaughter has grown from infanthood over the past couple of years, I’ve observed these behaviors and attempted to emulate them as a senior:
When she gets knocked down, she gets up again.
Toddlers trip — a lot — but my granddaughter generally just pops up again, says brightly “I’m okay,” and continues on her way without complaining. She’s taught me not to dwell on the negatives of aging, to be resilient, and to just keep plowing forward. For her, missteps are just bumps in the road and are nothing to get upset about. Who knew Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping” was so prescient?
She asks for and accepts help.
My granddaughter is willing and unselfconscious about requesting assistance when she needs it, such as when putting on her oh-so-adorable toddler-size 7 sneakers. I’ve tried to get over my tendency to feel embarrassed when I can’t do something because I’m older. I’ve worked to be open to asking my wife, my children, doctors, therapists, and other healthcare professionals for help — and to graciously accept when it is given.
She’s not afraid to ask when she doesn’t know something.
In a similar vein, when faced with something unknown, my granddaughter simply says, “What’s that?” without any thought or fear that it might be a stupid question. As a senior, I sometimes forget things like the name of an actor in a classic gangster noir movie. Rather than beat myself up about it, I follow my granddaughter and simply query my wife or the internet. Oh, ya, that’s James Cagney.
She’s curious about everything.
My granddaughter is a learning sponge. She watches everything around her. She is fascinated by it all. She’s learned to speak into the TV remote to request Bluey but hasn’t figured out exactly which button to push to make voice control work, yet. Some seniors have a blasé “been-there-done-that” attitude about life, but I’m cultivating curiosity to keep my brain active and open to new experiences — something every aging person should do.
She doesn’t live to impress others.
All grandparents think their grandkids are impressive. I’m no different. I’m constantly surprised by how fast my granddaughter picks up things, such as her growing vocabulary. (My spouse is her caregiver, and I can constantly hear my wife’s voice come through her.) But my granddaughter doesn’t live to impress others, as many of us adults do. I’ve labored to break lifelong conditioning that told me I must achieve and show off to family, friends, and the world to prove my worth and status. In retirement, that’s no longer useful or necessary. It probably never was.
She doesn’t see ulterior motives.
My granddaughter isn’t suspicious of the world. She’s too young to understand the complex motives and agendas people have. She simply trusts that those around her will take care of her. She’ll learn that there are bad people, of course, but I admire her guilelessness, her ability to take others at their face value, without constantly worrying about whether she is being manipulated or ripped off.
She asks for what she wants.
Toddlers are tiny terrorists. When they want something, they demand it, often by screaming. But there’s something admirable about someone who honestly asks for what she wants, rather than having complicated thoughts about whether it’s proper or not. When she loudly asks for mac and cheese for dinner, her parents tell her to calm down and say “please,” which she eventually does. She doesn’t suffer in silence, though, as too many of us seniors do. Without prevarication, she makes it clear what she wants. While avoiding screaming and always staying polite, we oldsters should be more assertive about getting our needs met.
She laughs — a lot.
A group of whales is called a pod. A lion pack is a pride. Crows who flock together are a murder or a mob. Seeing my granddaughter, I think the proper name for her and her friends should be “a giggle of girls.” She laughs all day long, endlessly amused by life. But for me, dealing with the realities of aging — health, money, relationships — can make me dour. Seeing her, I remind myself to laugh more and smile at the absurd side of getting older, like how long a nose hair can grow.
She assumes the world loves her.
My granddaughter’s greatest superpower is that she feels loved. Unfortunately, not all children do; there are neglectful, even cruel parents in the world. But, in her safe family, she assumes that everyone adores her and, in that, she travels through it confident and secure. I know people love me — my wife, my brother, my kids, my close friends — but sometimes as I get older, I forget and feel down, lonely, or neglected. This is all in my head. Following my granddaughter’s example, I’ve worked to recognize and appreciate all the love in my life, including the pure love from my granddaughter when I hug her as she goes to bed each night, another fascinating day of discovery behind her.
Randall H. Duckett is the author of Seven Cs: The Elements of Effective Writing (available on Amazon). He is writing a book about the emotions of chronic pain and invites fellow sufferers to share their stories. He can be reached through randallhduckett.com.
