Five life lessons from a toddler

I can understand why wisdom is tied to the accumulation of lived experience, if only because I look back on some previous versions of me and think, oh God. This feeling can mostly be explained by the fact I was a heady combination of young, naïve, arrogant and – often – as pissed as the proverbial fart. But, while I might like to think I know better now, it’s more likely that the pandemic and parenting have conspired to render me unavailable for such frivolity…

Anyway, my recent dealings with a 14 month old suggest older might not always mean wiser. In fact I’m starting to think we might all be born with some inbuilt ‘knowing’ that gets a little lost somewhere along the line. That our toddler, and indeed all toddlers, are the real oracles. And maybe the wisest adults are those that have simply tapped back into that innate state of being.

So I reckon there’s some genuine wisdom to be gleaned from little Ruby Roo and her likeminded mini peeps. And it’s the best kind of wisdom in that she’s not trying to impart it on anyone (I’m going to do that for her). So here goes:  

1. The point of life is to play

Life is like a set of interconnected, multi-layered games (as well as a box of chocs). And by the time we’re adulting we’ve reached level 625 and we sort of forget we’re playing. So we separate out ‘work’ and ‘play’ because some stuff seems like bloody good fun and some stuff seems to be a sort of necessary – often administrative – evil. What we lose in these categorisations is philosopher Alan Watts’ suggestion that life is inherently playful. That we all have within us an “element of irreducible rascality” (possibly one of the most joyous quotes ever).

Understandably, this can seem incongruous with working and paying bills and doing the dishes. But kids would love the chance to slosh pans around in water or to call the dentist. They’re gagging to go grocery shopping and to sign for stuff. I loved playing shop as a kid. Even as an adult when I started working in London I felt like I was playing at being a grown up. That it was funny that I wore a pencil skirt and got an underground train to work and pretended to know what I was doing when I got there.

Ruby has two states of being: play and sleep. And we only have to watch her for a couple of minutes before that element of irreducible rascality presents itself. Her little face lights up as soon as she gets the sense she’s being even the tiniest bit naughty. She revels in it. Because she’s a rascal. We all are.

And so it also makes sense that we should….

2. Seek out laughter at every opportunity

Rubes is constantly on the look-out for the next laugh. At the moment she likes getting me to stick my tongue out so she can touch it with her finger so I make this grossed out noise (“ughbleughbleughugh”). Hilarious apparently. She’ll catch your eye when she’s sitting in her highchair and give you a cheeky grin, filled with anticipation that comedy is about to come from somewhere. It must be, right? Because there’s humour to be found in almost anything.

This could be hereditary because I’m also prone to a fit of the giggles. Often a totally inappropriate one. My mam is the same, and Grandma was too. It’s a long line of hyenas. And I can vouch for its virtues – it’s hard to be angry, upset or stressed when you’re laughing your socks off. So, I’m already with Rubes on this one: if there’s a laugh up for grabs, let’s have it.  

3. Test the boundaries

Ruby knows what’s out of bounds (loose cables, door hinges and the like), and she wags her finger (‘no’) as she approaches. She can’t help herself though, and often needs to be physically removed from the scene of intrigue, still wagging her finger as she’s carted off.

Like a lot of toddlers, Ruby is physically unable to hold back her human curiosity. And, to some extent – why should she? Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it’s the starting point for some pretty cool stuff too (this may be the biggest understatement in the history of blogging).

As adults, we tend to be a little more conservative and stay within our comfort zones. While we won’t always admit it, we like routine (or at least we did until Covid came along and forced us into the same yearlong one). But only through pushing our limits can we discover what we’re really capable of. So let’s keep testing the boundaries – as Ruby has discovered, they sometimes give a bit.  

4. Talk to yourself

Ruby talks and talks and talks. There are no legs left on that donkey, she’s talked the buggers right off. She talks especially to herself, first thing on a morning. Maybe she’s recounting her dreams. I hear her have these ‘aha!’ moments, as though she’s alighted on the ultimate indisputable truth that can unite the human race and save us from extreme and entrenched polarisation. Unfortunately she’s completely incomprehensible, so it will remain forever encoded in toddler tongue.

Ruby is trying to make sense of the world by verbalising it. And maybe we can get closer to things (what we want out of life or just what we want for lunch) if we take a leaf out the toddler book and send our internal monologues out into the world. More power to us and this mind blowing ability to talk, even if – now and then – it’s only to ourselves.

5. Don’t temper your enthusiasm

Ruby seems to operate on the principle that, if life is for play, human interaction is the main game (the other games involve eating as many grapes and blueberries as possible and dominating the TV remote). On our walks she waves to the public like the Queen on acid.

And, while she’s buzzing off basic exchanges with randomers, I’m inwardly scowling at everyone who doesn’t acknowledge her attempts to engage. Unfortunately, she tends to target the most stony faced passers-by with the biggest waves. I must resist making a grab for their hand and forcing them to reciprocate, because even after multiple lockdowns I realise that’s not socially acceptable.

But, on the whole, I think this untempered enthusiasm is lovely. I love that she shouts HI and DAAAAAAAG at the top of her lungs without a care in the world. She’s having a hoot and she doesn’t care who knows it. Let’s get on board.  

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So there we have it. While I strive to be – to quote one Instagram post on raising kids – the cool, confident leader of my home (pahahaha), I’m aware that – on matters of authentic living – Ruby is the one doing the teaching.