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Hermit crabs and bike helmets
By Lee H. McKenzie, RN, MSN, MA and Michael D. McKenzie, MD, FAAP / Family Rhythms
Parents and Kids, April 2005

Sometimes the least likely events give new meaning to the many life lessons we try to pass on to our children. Here's a case in point. Our business partner and friend, Karen Oliver, has been regaling us for weeks with stories of her 6-year-old daughter's hermit crab. This tiny pet was a gift from dear friends and the only living creature in the house smaller than Arianna. She loved her hermit crab as much as any young child can love a pet and playing with it became a morning, afternoon and nighttime ritual. Most of Karen's stories had been the usual tidbits born of parental pride -- good for entertainment value and the chance to share in the wonder that a young child brings to everyday experiences. But one day, the story had an entirely different twist. Something had happened that reaffirmed what we all know as parents: what we say to our children can have a profound effect on shaping their experiences.

A few days ago, Arianna left her hermit crab on the edge of a counter in the kitchen, and then dashed off to grab a snack from the cupboard. This wasn't an unusual event, since she had developed a habit of toting that small creature around from room to room, often leaving it in various places. Her mom had told her time and time again that she should be more careful and should keep the crab in the aquarium in her bedroom. These conversations fell on deaf ears. Not so unusual with a young child!

But this day, after she finished eating, Arianna noticed that the hermit crab was not on the counter where she left it. Everyone in the kitchen froze. Arianna, her older brother and mom searched frantically for the crab. It was nowhere to be found. Could she have been mistaken? Had she definitely left it in the kitchen? Arianna ran to her room to search there…no luck. She ran back to the kitchen and got on her hands and knees to search every inch of the floor. Finally, she found it under the kitchen table nearly hidden by the leg of a chair.

When she picked up her beloved hermit crab, she noticed that something was terribly wrong. While a hermit crab's shell is usually strong enough to withstand the awkward handling of a 6-year-old, the impact of the hard floor took its toll. What had been a solid shell now had a rather large crack down the middle with a small piece missing. Arianna was mortified! She gently picked up the crab from the floor and held it in the palm of her hand. As she stared down at the fragile body visible through the crack in the shell, Arianna looked up at her mother and held out her hand to display the damage.

At that moment, Karen stood at the crossroad that all parents face at one time or another. She could venture down the well-trodden path of “I told you so,” with complete satisfaction in having warned her daughter over and over to be more careful. Or she could take a deep breath and try a different path. As she watched the tears well up in Arianna's eyes, she just knew that saying “I told you so” wasn't the right thing to say.

“Oh honey, I see the crack in the shell.” Then she gave her distraught daughter a hug. Once Arianna calmed down, Karen said to her, “Remember how I always tell you to wear your bike helmet? Take a look at the shell. It is hard. Even though it broke, it still protected the crab's body inside. Your helmet is like your crab's shell. It protects your head just like the shell protects his body. Now we need to be extra careful with him, since his shell can't protect him any more.”

With those words, Arianna looked up at her mother and smiled, “I always wear my bike helmet, that's why my head is protected. I'm going to take him back to his aquarium now. I love you Mommy.” With that, she hugged her mom and gently carried her injured pet back to the safe place on her dresser.

Unfortunately, the hermit crab did not fare well over the next few days. In fact, he died. Although Arianna was understandably upset, she was able to connect his death to the lack of a protective shell. Arianna has never been caught up in blaming herself. She has continued to accept the crab's “accident” and death, though she does occasionally make comments about being careful.

Karen's initial response shaped the way in which Arianna made sense of the situation. But what if she had responded with “I told you so?” We suspect that the outcome would have been entirely different, likely leading to feelings of shame and guilt in Arianna. The suspicion about what would have happened raises some interesting questions: What does saying “I told you so” get us anyway? What is our purpose when we say it and, more importantly, where does it lead us in conversations with our children?

In general, the phrase, “I told you so” functions as an admonition, a declaration of wrong-doing. When said, the speaker usually wants the listener to realize that had he or she listened to all the prior warnings, the adverse event wouldn't have happened. The problem with saying, “I told you so” is that it is a real conversation stopper. The only option for response from the child is to offer an apology or an acknowledgement that he or she was wrong. In the end, everyone ends up frustrated or angry. There is little room left for finding meaning in the situation.

Karen's choice of response had two advantages. First, she connected to her daughter on an emotional level. Once she made that connection, she turned a sad situation into an opportunity for learning a much bigger life lesson. Karen intuitively recognized what is known in educational theory as a “teachable moment.” By making a connection to a bigger story, one about protection, she lent new credibility to her insistence on the use of a bike helmet.

Arianna still talks about her hermit crab and about bike helmets as a way to protect her head. She beams with pride as she speaks from a space of understanding. As parents, we all try to teach our children to do what is "right" or safe. How we choose to respond to them when they make mistakes can be the difference between shutting down a conversation and creating a possibility for deeper learning and connection. Linking events to a bigger story is a generative act that invites conversations and strengthens connections.

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