Windy Girl
M is deathly afraid of the wind. She'll throw herself on the ground in terror, huddle in a little ball, scream and cry until we carry her to shelter. And, if you've never been to Colorado, I'm here to tell you we have some wicked wind in this state, which doesn't help. Wind whips around along the entire Front Range -- something about being on the leeward side of the Rocky Mountains and cool air coming down from higher elevations. This time of year is the worst.
We've tried everything we can think of, stories about how the wind is our friend, discussions of nature and rain and sun and fluffy bunnies and how they all like wind. We've read books about wind, we've tried ignoring M and her fears, we've tried cowtowing to her. O, for her part, plays the good twin, never complaining, and occassionally proclaiming her love of wind.
After a couple months of this, we're tired. Our new approach is balance. Sympathy tempered with tough love, understanding mixed with practicality. I'm not sure it's working, though I've lost sight of the goal. Other parents tell us she'll grow out of it, which would be encouraging if I believed them.
But then (!) we got M a windbreaker. See, a windbreaker protects you from the wind. Keeps you safe. POOF. M's no longer afraid, or at least not really. As long as she's wrapped in her windbreaker, she'll walk down the sidewalk, play outside at school or skip into the grocery store without wailing. And that's close enough to a goal for me.
We've tried everything we can think of, stories about how the wind is our friend, discussions of nature and rain and sun and fluffy bunnies and how they all like wind. We've read books about wind, we've tried ignoring M and her fears, we've tried cowtowing to her. O, for her part, plays the good twin, never complaining, and occassionally proclaiming her love of wind.
After a couple months of this, we're tired. Our new approach is balance. Sympathy tempered with tough love, understanding mixed with practicality. I'm not sure it's working, though I've lost sight of the goal. Other parents tell us she'll grow out of it, which would be encouraging if I believed them.
But then (!) we got M a windbreaker. See, a windbreaker protects you from the wind. Keeps you safe. POOF. M's no longer afraid, or at least not really. As long as she's wrapped in her windbreaker, she'll walk down the sidewalk, play outside at school or skip into the grocery store without wailing. And that's close enough to a goal for me.
Comments