Chess Anyone?

My six-year-old and her buddy have their own table at the café. His mama and I are sipping strong coffee a few metres away.

I am struck by how neutral they are. Let me explain. 

When he and his mom arrive and he approaches my daughter, between them there is no squealing, no cheering, no jumping up and down. There is also no shyness or initial awkwardness. They just get down to business. They’ve got cookies to eat, chess moves to make, blocks and books to take out from the kids’ bin stored under the packages of roasted coffee. 

My kiddo has one arm resting on the back of her chair, one leg swinging a clunky boot. She’s chewing, staring away at the board. I see her lips move every once in a while—they are chatting without making eye contact. Charlie, whose knees are on his chair and whose elbows are on the table, is as chilled out as her. 

I feel the same way in his mom’s presence—our convo is peppered with comfortable silences as we watch our kids at the sunlit table. I’m aware of how slowly I bring the mug to my lips. How my body is still and my shoulders warm. How nice the seat feels. 

Soon, it is time to go. 

We are there maybe 25 minutes. Such tranquility in a quiet yet busy coffee shop is inevitably short lived. (As a mama, I strive to leave on a high note. It can be sensed when moods and needs are shifting.)

As we leave, neither kid is really interested in hugs or goodbyes of any kind until prompted by interfering moms. We agree to meet again soon. 

Time and connections like these are important for her and for me too. Banking* this sense of ease keeps my sensitive, damaged nervous system from over-working, from getting triggered.

Seeking and scheduling these calm states of being are for me an important tool for anxiety prevention. 

Chess anyone?

*Banking is about practicing self-care (scheduling and seeking fun, tranquility, sleep, exercise etc.) even when I am already feeling well, rather than something exclusively in response to exhaustion or burn-out or anxiety.