Hi Everyone!
I wanted to let you all know that I'm going to take a mini-vacation from the blog. I need a week to sort through a few things. I'm sorry for leaving you hanging as I'm sure you'll be dying to know about the latest adventure in the dragon household but I thank you for your patience. Talk to you all soon!
photo by: Kenzoka
http://www.flickr.com/photos/zivturner/2543978765/
Part 2: Parenting Voodoo
One of the tips the authors of Child Wise give is to require your child to respond to your directions with a "Yes Mommy" or a "Yes Daddy." Their reasons are twofold. First, it lets you know that your child heard your instructions. Second, it helps your child to take ownership of their actions and their decision to obey you.
The night that I read that particular chapter, Truett got out of his bed. He knows that getting out of his bed means that he will go sleep in the playroom in his crib. I went upstairs to get him and he immediately climbed back between his bed and the wall. I had to drag him out from behind his bed while he kicked and laughed. Normally, I would pick him up and carry him to the playroom, put him in the crib and walk out. But instead I stood him up on his feet and I took hold of his chin so that he had to look at me. I said, "Truett, I want you to walk to the playroom with me and climb into your crib. And I need you to say 'yes Mommy'." And then I waited. He made some very odd faces at me and for one moment, as he widened his eyes as far as they would go, I was actually worried that something was wrong with him. But then he stopped and looked me in the eyes and said, "Yes Mommy." And then, I kid you not, he took my hand and walked to the playroom with me where he crawled into his crib and laid down without a fuss.
I came back downstairs feeling a little shell shocked. I told Sam what had happened and said, "It was like voodoo magic or something." Now since then I've been requiring the boys to respond to my instructions in that way. It hasn't always yielded the same magical results. In fact, today Truett looked right at me and said, "No Mommy," so I'm not saying it's the ultimate solution to everything. But I'm going to stick with it because I have nothing to lose and a whole lot to gain.
Part 1: The Virtues of the On Becoming _______Wise books
A few months after having Jem, I was sitting in Barnes and Noble with my mom talking to her about not knowing how to put him on a schedule. I didn't want to just let him sleep whenever he wanted and I knew that he needed to eat every three hours. But how did I get it to work? I felt like my child was in charge. I couldn't really make plans to do anything because I never knew when he would want to eat or how long he would sleep. I was frustrated and confused.
And then a lovely lady, whom I'm convinced was sent to me by God, walked over and said, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation and I wanted to recommend the book Baby Wise." My mom and I ran over to the shelf and pulled it off. Mom, thankfully, bought it for me and I took it home and devoured it that day. And within a few days, I had Jem on a schedule. I no longer had to guess about his nap time. I knew exactly when a feeding would take place. It gave me back some of my freedom. I could make plans knowing that I wouldn't have a screaming baby on my hands who was demanding food. The book was a lifesaver for that stage of my life. And I pulled it out again with each subsequent child. (You think that you'll remember how to do the baby stage but you don't.)
And now that I am almost out of the baby stage completely, I am moving on to other books in the series. I wasn't even aware that they had any but one of my friends told me about them. I just picked up Child Wise at my library and I've been reading it for the past few nights. My friend has been talking about this book for over a year and I've just been nodding and saying, "That sounds great. I should try that." And when I cracked it open for the first time the other night I made Sam pause the tv so that I could read bits of it to him out loud. I've already started implementing some of the techniques they talk about in the book and tomorrow I'll write about what has happened with that.
I've been reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller. The entire book is about telling a good story with your life. Miller shares stories of people who step out of their comfort zones to do something that has meaning, something that impacts others. It's a fantastic book but both times that I've read it, I've come away from it wanting to skip the next several years and get to the point when my children can start living a story beyond digging for worms, temper tantrums and being in love with a different tv show every few months. I want my family to live a good story.
This time though, I realized that digging for worms and all of the other stuff is part of our story right now. It is a small story but this is only the first chapter for them. We are merely setting the scene for the rest of the story. This is the time when character begins to form. This is the time when bonds are forged and strengthened, when little hearts are still moldable. And my job is to make this part of the story the best that I can for them. And I'm not talking about buying them every toy they want or letting them stay up late every night. I'm talking about taking that extra minute to watch the slug cross the sidewalk or stopping the car to watch the excavator scoop up piles of dirt to move to the dump truck. It is finding small moments that add joy, teach lessons and cultivate wonder. I'm not always great at finding those small moments but I'm open to it and willing and that is a start. I'm not going to wait five years to start writing a good story with my life. I'm going to start right now where I'm at.
I remember listening to a friend relate a story about one of his children back before Sam and I had kids. They had been sitting down to a family dinner with extended family and his youngest son, who had been around three or four at the time, announced that he was going to burn his house down. And I remember being horrified and thinking that he must be some kind of delinquent waiting to happen and just sure that he was going to end up in jail before the age of 18. And then I had kids and I realized how off-base my reaction was.
Truett threw a rock at my face today. It was bound to happen. He has a habit of throwing things when he is angry and I've just been lucky so far that they have been relatively soft things. It is a habit that I'm trying to break him of and I have, obviously, been unsuccessful so far.
He was angry because I asked him to turn off the water and stop washing his rocks off. He didn't agree with that and had a tantrum. When I picked up the two rocks that were on the counter, he threw the one that he was holding at me. It caught me in the chin and stung like the dickens. And the emotions that ran over me were, frankly, overwhelming. Anger, frustration, hurt, despair, disbelief, resignation. I didn't know which one to go with so I did the only thing that I could do in that moment. I picked him up and took him over to his chair and sat him down. I told him that I didn't want to speak to him and that he needed to sit there until I came to get him and then I walked out. I bit my tongue and I held in my tears. Oh the things I wanted to say to my little dragon!
Once I had calmed down, I sat down with him and talked with him about what it would feel like if someone threw a rock at him and it hit him. He said that it would hurt. I then asked him how he thought it felt to me when he did that and he again responded that it hurt me.
And there will be people who read this post and think that he is an awful child who will grow up to be violent and aggressive and mean. In reality, he is a three-year old who has issues with impulse control. Was it okay for him to throw a rock at me? Absolutely not! But it doesn't mean that he is an awful child. He made a poor choice and we corrected it. If the behavior reoccurs, the punishment will need to be at a more intense level than a time-out and a conversation. I can't exactly allow my kid to go around throwing rocks at people. My hope though is that he will soon be capable of thinking through his actions and realizing that he should treat people the way he wants to be treated. And until that happens, my role is to guide him and correct him and help to set his feet on the right path. I'm not the perfect guide. I make bad choices too. But my heart is turned towards God and Truett belongs to Him so I'm confident that it will all come out alright in the end. For now, I'll work on my dodging abilities.
photo by: Tim Jagenberg
http://www.flickr.com/photos/timjagenberg/6600327771/
This morning I dropped Jem off at preschool. He and Truett are going on opposite days this year. Jem goes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and Tru goes on Tuesday and Thursday. It is unfortunate since it means driving to preschool every day but it's just how it worked this year. The interesting part is that they actually have the same teacher and are in the same classroom, just on different days.
Anyway, when I dropped Jem off this morning, Tru went in with me. And while I was getting Jem settled his teacher came over and said, "You have two of the sweetest boys."
Did I smile and say, "Thank you."? Nope. I opened my mouth and said, "Just wait until you spend a little more time with them." Ugh! Really, Brooke?!
In my head I was thinking of the night before and the epic battle I had with Truett over green beans. I was thinking of being called names and having a pen thrown at my head. I was thinking of little hands smacking me and water being purposely spilled. So I wasn't really in a space to hear how sweet my kids are. But I need to learn to keep that stuff to myself and to not act so surprised when someone compliments my children. I do have good kids. They have good manners and they typically play well with others. But they are still kids and they have bad days, bad moments, and I take the brunt of that. We are working through it and this morning was a reminder that I need to be thankful when someone sees the good in my kids and tells me about it. Because too often I get overwhelmed with the bad and forget about the good.
photo by: marsmet511
http://www.flickr.com/photos/72795156@N08/6945534139/
My sister-in-law plans great parties. Give her 15 six year-olds and four hours and she will come up with a great plan. I should have called her and asked her to plan Jem's 5th birthday party but I didn't and thus ended up with the saddest excuse for a party ever. I had every intention of throwing him a great party with friends and balloons and streamers and fun games. I really did. But then we moved and the normal chaos of our house increased tenfold. So Jem's birthday party went by the wayside. Luckily for me, his birthday fell on Labor Day weekend and Sam's Aunt and Uncle decided to host a corn roast at their church on the day of Jem's birthday. So we took the family over to the church and ate roasted corn and fried chicken and made s'mores. Jem ran around with his brother and shot water balloons out of sling shot. We gave him his present that night and he got a few more things from some family members. There wasn't a cake and there weren't any friends or balloons or streamers. It wasn't a party for him but yet, at the end of the evening, he ran over to me and hugged my legs and said, "Mommy, this was the best birthday ever!"
I'm just thankful that he is still young enough to think that was an actual party. And I'm thankful that he is still innocent enough to think that spending an evening with his family is super fun and cool. Someday, I will manage to put together an actual party but for now, I'm enjoying the get-out-of-jail-free card I ended up with on this one.
photo by Will Clayton http://www.flickr.com/photos/spool32/5045502202/
On Saturday, Sam and the boys had just gotten home from running a few errands when Sam looked out our back door and said, "Brooke! Look outside!" I thought that he had possibly seen a deer or maybe a hawk. Instead, I looked out to see Truett standing in our side yard with his pants around his ankles, peeing on our lawn. I yanked the door open and said, "Truett! What are you doing?"
He looked at me like I had just asked him the silliest question ever, and maybe I had, and said, "Peeing Mommy."
I told him that I could see that he was peeing and that I was asking why he was doing it in our yard instead of in the bathroom. He continued to pee as he explained to me that he wanted to go outside like he does when he is at the camp or out in the woods. There was no sense of urgency or shame. He was determined to do it outside and to enjoy it.
When he finally finished, I told him to pull his pants up and come into the house. We then had to talk about how it isn't okay to pee out in our yard or out in anyone's yard. I reminded him that he needs to come inside and use the potty.
Gracious. I have one boy who, for the longest time, refused to go outside in the woods because it would drip on his legs. He would cry and ask me to help him and I would reply that I didn't know what to do because I didn't have one of those. And I have another boy who thinks that the entire world wants to see him do his business. Boys!
photo by: yorgak
http://www.flickr.com/photos/yorgak/222916983/
Sometimes the frustration builds and the anger comes on quick. My hands aren't gentle and my voice isn't calm. Words come out that I wish I could take back. The moment passes and the defiant, naughty child who was the target of my anger is skipping around the family room while I am huddled on a chair in the dining room crying.
This isn't any good. My anger does nothing to help the situation. My children don't respond to it. I feel like an awful human being afterwards. But this parenting business is hard and I don't know how to navigate my way through it without stumbling. And every stumble brings the guilt and the fear that I'm a terrible mom. And there aren't any days without a stumble. Some are just worse than others.
Right now, at this moment, I am defeated. But I will not linger here. I will give myself grace. I will see my stumbles as part of the process and move through them. And maybe I will start counting to five before I react to the next escapade.
photo from:
missourigrassrootscoalition.org
Two weeks ago I wrote a post about the library that we now live near. I took the time to complain about how tiny it is and how few books it has. And then, last Friday, that post came back to bite me in the rear and I'm coming out the other end of it looking like a big ol' jerk.
Last Thursday, I grabbed the library books to take them back since they were due the next day. I usually try to keep all of our library books together so that I don't end up missing one. As I grabbed the pile, I had the nagging feeling that I didn't have all of the books but I couldn't think of which one I was missing. I figured it was all in my head and hopped into the car. The library was closed so I just put the books into the book drop and promptly forgot all about them.
The next day I noticed a message on our answering machine. It was a lady from the library. She said that they received my books but noticed that one of them was missing. She continued on to say, "I just went ahead and renewed it for you that way you can bring it back at your convenience without having to worry about any late charges. It will be due on September 14th now. Have a great day."
Our old library (the one with all of the space and all of the books) would never have renewed a book for me. It would have just racked up late fees until I noticed it peeking out from behind Jem's bed. But the little podunk double-wide library renewed my books for me and told me to have a great day. So there you have it. Sometimes I'm a jerk.
