My toddler isn't shy; you're just too aggressive

"Happiness is as a butterfly which, when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you."

A framed print of this famous Nathaniel Hawthorne quote hung in the basement playroom of my childhood home. It was given to me as a birthday gift when I was too young to understand its meaning. As I grew older, I came to learn that much like happiness and the butterfly, people and animals, too, might remain just beyond one's grasp if pursued too aggressively.

I think that most adults intuitively understand this. We've learned, through the various relationships we've cultivated and lost, that everybody needs breathing room; that we need to respect peoples' personal space.

Which brings me to the question of why this notion seems to go completely out the window when dealing with small children.

My children are most decidedly not shy. They're not antisocial. They are bright, gregarious, and talkative. They truly love interacting with people.

Why is it, then, that the little one turns his head and demands that I pick him up whenever we arrive at a social gatherings? Why does he sometimes seem "rude" and "shy" when he's introduced to new people -- or re-encounters people that he doesn't know very well?

It's because some people do not observe his personal space. It's because, like his mother, he is sensitive to intense, in-your-face people. But unlike his mother, hasn't had thirty-something years of practice in social situations, and doesn't possess a mature adult brain with the capacity for emotional self-regulation. It's because he doesn't have the ability to politely excuse himself if he feels uncomfortable or claustrophobic.

When meeting a baby, toddler or small child, it's important to remember that while they may be familiar to you, the reverse may not be true. Have you ever attended a large gathering where everyone else knew each other, and knew who you were, yet you knew only the person you came with? Do you remember how awkward and overwhelming it was? Imagine being in that situation as a toddler, with no control over any of it.

Sometimes I feel like I'm being judged for allowing this behaviour; for not insisting that my son greet everyone politely, or go into near-strangers' arms without complaint. I encourage him to greet people, and I know it's an important social skill for him to learn, but I'm not going to force him to do so when he is obviously uncomfortable and upset. I respect his (completely valid) feelings, and I believe that he will learn what is expected, with gentle encouragement, and by watching his parents model the appropriate way to interact with others.

Whenever someone asks if my son is shy, I find myself bumbling through a half-hearted apology or excuse, while simultaneously being angry at myself for doing that, because my son is not shy, and I really don't want to slap that label on him and have it become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Sometimes I wish there was a polite way to tell the truth: "It's not him. It's you."

The next time you encounter a small child, please remember the butterfly, just beyond your grasp. Don't demand a greeting or try to touch him, hug him, or grab him from his parent's arms.

Say hello, and then sit down quietly and wait: I promise that eventually he will alight upon you and delight you with his charm and affection.

^ My five-year-old draws smiling butterflies on every greeting card he makes. Cracks me up :)