Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week we celebrate El Duderino’s birthday. As I reflect on the past year of his life and all the growth I’ve seen, what sticks out the most is his behaviors surrounding help.
Mayday is a word most aviators hope never to have to use. It is the international radiotelephone distress signal, and when repeated three times it indicates imminent and grave danger, and that immediate assistance is requested.
The origin of the word mayday comes from the French, M’aidez, which is help me. Obviously there is a change in tone, connotation, and level of urgency when alternating between the two, but that is kind of the point. The difficulty as aviators, as parents, and as humans, is knowing when to ask for help and knowing when to say mayday.
This is a hard enough distinction for somewhat self reflective psuedo adults (yours truly), much less toddlers. When should I ask for help, who should I ask for help, and especially how should I ask for help, are all critical communication skills we could all improve upon.
El Duderino is at a stage where he wants to do things himself, but also needs a significant amount of help. He isn’t shy about asking for help, but it often comes in the form of a mayday like call from across the house. The desperation fills the room regardless of whether or not the situation demands it.
I’m left trying to parent the situation determining what the issue is, what type of help he needs, and if he needs to adjust his communication method before I provide such help. It is a lot to evaluate and even more to try to pass on to a toddler. Add on to that the fact that I’m still a little confused on what is the best way to approach the topic of “help”
In the bewildering and convoluted web that is modern masculinity, we end up with lots of different positions on help. Providing help to others, super manly. Needing help yourself, not so manly. Yet somehow admitting you need the help and actually asking for it, is somehow manly.
What is it about needing help, asking for help, accepting help, and providing help, that drives men of all ages to such silly mental gymnastics.
I won’t try to speak for all men, but I think for me it has a lot to do with conflict, like we talked about last week. There is value and growth to be found in conflict and struggle, and bypassing or shortening the conflict with help, could otherwise bypass or shorten the growth.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that tiny driving force called ego that gets in the way. Mine has certainly gotten me into a fair share of trouble often times because I was too proud to ask for help.
When I do dig myself into enough of a hole that even my ego needs bailing out, I still struggle to ask for help. The request tends to mimic an old Dave Mathews song and my “grace is gone”. (Not that I have ever been accused of an abundance of grace to begin with)
Asking for help is an essential human behavior, and like most behaviors, it can be taught, learned, mimicked, and improved. Parents of toddlers know all too well how behaviors good and bad can be mimicked.
As El Duderino reaches his third birthday this is a skill I’m trying to improve in myself, so that I may provide a better example to teach him.
So the next time El Duderino starts screaming for help like he is going down over the atlantic, and the reason is that he can’t cram anymore play-doh into the cab of his matchbox dump truck, I have to remind myself that this is a teaching moment, and we could all use a little help.
Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.
