Lost child

So you go see your sister and your six-year-old nephew--who was crawling all over everybody last time--hides behind his mother. He flinches if you lean down to say "hi." She tries to encourage him and that just makes it worse. Nobody knows what to say.

Hard to be a favorite uncle if they won't come near you, isn't it?

In my youth, I was the unofficial baby-watcher at family get-together's--largely because I got along so well with the younger grandkids. But then I got bigger, and the little ones started hanging back.

I had become a Scary Grownup. I didn't like that, so I tried to figure out what to do about it. Fortunately, the problem turned out to be pretty basic.

You see, small children have rules they follow more or less instinctively--rules that make a lot of sense, in many ways. Here are a few of them:

• Big things are scarier than little things.


• Loud things are scarier than quiet things.


• Things you don't know are scarier than things you do know.


• Things RIGHT HERE are scarier than things OVER THERE.


• Things that stare at you are scarier than things that ignore you.

From the rules we've seen so far, it may be deduced that a big loud stranger who gets right in a child's face may not get an enthusiastic reception. This may seem obvious, but so many people don't get it. They briskly dump a child in Santa's lap, and then get all flustered when the child starts crying. (Wouldn't you be scared if a 15-foot-tall stranger picked you up and thundered "HO HO HO!" at you?)

But to continue:

• Scary things are sometimes safe.


• To find out if a scary thing is safe, watch it for a while.


• The scarier something is, the longer you have to watch it.

So if you want to be "not-scary," what do you do?

Minimize your bigness.


Sit down if you can. If you really want to make an impression, sit on the floor. If the child is young enough, and your dignity isn't that important to you, LIE down on the floor. (This is especially good with very small children.) In any case, find some way not to LOOM so much...

Minimize your loudness.


Talk quietly. Don't make big gestures. Don't clown. If you do this right, there'll be time for that later.

Minimize your strangeness.


A week or two can make an old playmate a stranger, if the child is young enough. So let him remember you. Talk to his family and friends. Old friend or new acquaintance, establish yourself as someone who belongs.

Minimize your "RIGHT HERE-ness"


This is not the time to play "kissy-face." Keep your distance. Talk to other people. Let the kid check you out from OVER THERE.

Minimize your staring.


Let the child know that you know he's there. But don't make him the center of your attention. Talk to everyone else.

And most important of all--

Be patient.


Give the child time to check you out. Let him reassure himself. All the "minimizing" above should minimize the time it will take. But it will still take time.

Let the child make the first move.

It may be pretty direct--especially for very small children. Or it may be more subtle than you expect--and perhaps almost ritualistic. For example, one of the more common approaches I've seen (especially with little girls--say, about six) is a sort of "peek-a-boo." The child will start looking at you. When you notice, look back at her. When she "hides," ignore her. Wait for another stare, and return it. She hides, you ignore her.

Eventually, she'll make a game out of it, giggling as she ducks out of sight again. You have now established, not only that you're willing to play, but that you'll let her decide the rules. The two of you should be getting along famously before too much longer.

Danny Kaye had a similar problem, once. He was on the road so much that his own daughter would have nothing to do with him when he came home. It might be almost time for the next tour before she would open up. Precious days with his family, wasted.

Then he had to do a long charity tour that involved a lot of work with kids. Dealing with lots of strangers' children, he learned enough to realize what he was doing wrong with his own. So when he got back, instead of trying to scoop her up and hug her, laughing and clowning, he did pretty much what I've just described. And this time she launched herself into his arms before they got home from the airport. An hour's patience cut through a week's worth of awkwardness.

It can work for you, too.