So, yesterday I encountered what might
have been my most perplexing parenting moment thus far.
Em and Oren and I were playing in the
living room. Oren was playing with his little alphabet caterpillar,
and Em was putting on one of her (many) performances as Ariel the
Mermaid. Em seemed to be tiring of playing Ariel, and started chasing
Oren around the room a little, when she suddenly ran up to me.
“Mama, hit me!” she said.
I looked at her, of course TOTALLY
baffled, and sure I had misheard her words.
“What did you say, Emmy?”
“Hit me, Mama! I want to play the
hitting game! Hit me right here!” she said, pointing to her arm.
Now, I will pause here to mention that
there is NO hitting in our home. We never spank. We never push. We
never put my hands on our children in any way that might be even
remotely considered physically aggressive.
“Emmy,” I said, kind of laughing,
because I was so caught off guard by the moment, “I am NOT going to
hit you. I love you. Don't be silly.”
Ember shook her head, “Just hit me
here, mama. Please! It's the hitting game! I want to see how it
feels!”
“Are you kidding, Emmy? Hitting
hurts! I won't hit you. It is not nice to hit people!”
At this point, Ember was pulling on my
arm, with tears in her eyes.
“Please, mama! Just hit me! It's the
hitting game! You can hit me not so hard, like this!” she said,
hitting her own arm. “I want to see how it feels!”
“I am not going to hit you, Emmy!”
“PLEEEEEASE, Mama! Please hit me!!”
And that is when I went from feeling
bewildered to feeling totally overwhelmed by the moment. I started to
choke up. Why in the world was my three year old begging me to hit
her?? I couldn't wrap my head around it for the life of me.
“Emmy, nobody is supposed to hit you.
Does anybody hit you?” I asked, very nervously.
“No.”
“What is the hitting game? Do you
play this at school?”
“Yes.”
“Does somebody hit you at school?”
I asked.
“No.”
“Does ANYONE hit ANYONE at school?”
I asked.
“Yes.”
And then she named a few boys in her
class, and said they played the “Hitting Game”.
“Well,” I said to Emmy, “we
definitely do NOT play the hitting game at home. And if somebody hits
you at school, Emmy, it is not nice. You should tell me or dada AND
your teacher if anybody in your class hits you. Hitting is NOT a
game. Hitting hurts.”
“Ok,” Emmy said, sounding somewhat
disappointed.
So, here I am, a day later, still
reeling from the incident. I've Googled “3 year old daughter asked
me to hit her,” hoping to find discussion boards of other parents
who've been through similar, completely crazy conversations with
their three year olds, and I have come up empty handed. Apparently NO
other parent has had to have this conversation with their three year
old, or NO other parent wants to talk about having this conversation
with their three year old?
I may be overreacting about the
incident. It is very possible that Em may have seen some kids in her
class playing “Tag,” and she thought they were chasing each other
around and hitting one another, and was curious as to why hitting
would be part of a game. Em IS in a class with seven boys and only
one other girl, so it is also possible that the “games” she sees
the boys playing are more aggressive than the games she is used to.
Still, this is my baby girl we are
talking about. This is the girl who I was cuddling in my arms and
rocking to sleep just a year or so ago. This is the girl who I never
ever want to see hurt or hit by another person.
Hitting hurts, Em. Hitting is not a
game. And I will never, ever hit you.
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