“Wake me up at 3am just to tell me that I’m not close enough. Wake me again at 7am because we need to get ready for the day. Once more at 7:15 because we both know I don’t do mornings. Tell me about the dream you had last night while we have toast and orange juice. I’m tired as hell but I hear and feel every single word that you say. Ask me how I slept because you feel like you’ve been talking for too long. My answer is always the same when you ask, sleeping next to you is heavenly. Apologize for waking me up at 3 while I assure you that it’s okay and that I’m so glad that you did, then rally in your stubborn persistence the notion that it was out of line. Start explaining how wrong it was. You won’t get very far into your rant because I need to kiss you. Not only to stop you from being ridiculous but because I love you so much more than I can express with words. So please, wake me up at 3am so I can pull you closer and kiss you softly. “I love you endlessly” will be my sleepy response each time; as those four words are the only ones that can even come close to explaining my feelings for you.”—
I’m actually concerned for boys who complain about how different girls look without makeup. Like did you think eyeshadow permanently alters a girls eyelid? Are you frightened when people change clothes
A friend and I were out with our kids when another family’s two-year-old came up. She began hugging my friend’s 18-month-old, following her around and smiling at her. My friend’s little girl looked like she wasn’t so sure she liked this, and at that moment the other little girl’s mom came up and got down on her little girl’s level to talk to her.
“Honey, can you listen to me for a moment? I’m glad you’ve found a new friend, but you need to make sure to look at her face to see if she likes it when you hug her. And if she doesn’t like it, you need to give her space. Okay?”
Two years old, and already her mother was teaching her about consent.
My daughter Sally likes to color on herself with markers. I tell her it’s her body, so it’s her choice. Sometimes she writes her name, sometimes she draws flowers or patterns. The other day I heard her talking to her brother, a marker in her hand.
“Bobby, do you mind if I color on your leg?”
Bobby smiled and moved himself closer to his sister. She began drawing a pattern on his leg with a marker while he watched, fascinated. Later, she began coloring on the sole of his foot. After each stoke, he pulled his foot back, laughing. I looked over to see what was causing the commotion, and Sally turned to me.
“He doesn’t mind if I do this,” she explained, “he is only moving his foot because it tickles. He thinks its funny.” And she was right. Already Bobby had extended his foot to her again, smiling as he did so.
What I find really fascinating about these two anecdotes is that they both deal with the consent of children not yet old enough to communicate verbally. In both stories, the older child must read the consent of the younger child through nonverbal cues. And even then, consent is not this ambiguous thing that is difficult to understand.
Teaching consent is ongoing, but it starts when children are very young. It involves both teaching children to pay attention to and respect others’ consent (or lack thereof) and teaching children that they should expect their own bodies and their own space to be respected—even by their parents and other relatives.
And if children of two or four can be expected to read the nonverbal cues and expressions of children not yet old enough to talk in order to assess whether there is consent, what excuse do full grown adults have?