The Little Things

I recently finished listening to Susan Crawford’s Children, Parents, and Power Struggles lectures.  Susan runs a parenting e-mail list that I subscribe to called the Rational Parenting List, and these lectures were given at the 2004 Objectivist Summer Conference.

This course was a great complement to my other reading on parenting.  Much of the material Susan covers is similar to what you would find in my favorite How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk.  I’d definitely put Susan in the Positive Discipline camp, although I don’t think she uses that term.  She does give the best explanation of “consequences” that I’ve heard.  I’m paraphrasing, but she says that choices have consequences, and that consequences are logically related to the choice.  Further, natural consequences are the ones that follow automatically, while logical consequences are the ones that parents impose, but which attempt to maintain that connection between action and consequence.  So, a natural consequence of a child’s forgetting to take his lunch to school would be that he would go without that meal.  A logical consequence of a child’s not coming home on time would be for the parent to disallow him going out for a period of time, the connection being that the child can not be trusted.  I liked this distinction because I think it will help me work on consequences.  I now can always ask myself:  Is there a sufficient natural consequence for this behavior?  If not, do I need to impose a logical consequence?  It’s occurring to me as I write this that the need for logical consequences probably arises mostly in connection with social requirements.  It’s analogous to the difference between the laws of physics and the laws of man.  I’ll have to think about that more - it’s just a germ of an idea.

I did find the course to be somewhat disorganized.  I’m not good at listening without taking notes and I listened to this in the car over a few weeks, so that didn’t help.  But Susan’s outline shows that what she’s really doing is covering a range of discrete issues in the context of power struggles.  Here are just a few topics that she covers:

• Time Outs
• Picky Eaters
• Tattling
• Procrastination
• Honesty

What I found very helpful was that she gives so many examples and concrete suggestions.  She often lists off a dozen or more specific ways you can deal with a particular issue.  The presentation can be dry because of this, but I feel like many of those ideas are lurking around in my subconscious now, ready to be pulled out when the moment arises.  I suspect I’m going to listen to this course every couple of years just to restock my toolbox.

You can purchase the course from the Ayn Rand Bookstore.  I do recommend it, especially if you have more time to listen than to read, or if you are an auditory learner.  If you’re interested in signing up for the mailing list (for a small yearly fee), you can send an e-mail to rplist at aol dot com.  If I recall, Susan does allow a trial membership.

Do you remember when you were a little kid and you were sick and you missed your nap and all your friends had to go home and you fell down and scraped your knee and the whole world was just BAD?  And then your mommy took you in her arms and whispered in your ear and stroked your hair and you fell asleep because the world was just GOOD?

I can do that.

Our friend Jackson spent this past weekend with us.  He’s the (now 7-year-old) boy who helped inspire us to have a child ourselves.  This time he’s helping us understand what it will be like with two children in the house. 

We’ve never had another kid in the house for so long, and especially without his parents around.  So this was our very first experience “parenting” two at once.  It was awesome!  Not only did we get to put our skills to work on a much older child who could understand so much more, but we got to try our hand at some sibling skills like teaching problem solving. 

We did a lot of, “If you want Sam to do X, then you might try asking her,” and “Sam, when you want something Jackson is holding, you can ask him for it and he can say yes or no.”  We never got comfortable enough to say things like, “That sounds like something you need to work out yourselves.”  I think if the two of them had a whole week together we might have gotten there.  But Jackson obviously already has some problem solving skills.  I had made a rule that each kid could only have one balloon at a time because I knew that otherwise the bag of balloons would be gone by the end of the day.  Jackson wanted his tied up, and Sam wanted hers untied so that I could blow it up over and over and she could make it squeak or send it flying for the cat to chase.  Jackson saw how much fun Sam was having and tried to grab Sam’s balloon.  She whined, NOOOOO, and turned around, protecting her property.  I suggested to Jackson that he ask her if he could use it.  He didn’t right away, but about a minute later, he said to Sam, “Here, you can play with mine while I play with yours.”  Sam agreed, they traded, and they played nicely together for quite some time.

With Jackson alone, I really enjoyed using some of the skills I’ve been working on with Sam, like acknowledging his emotions.  It was hard because I don’t know Jackson as well as I know my own daughter so I couldn’t always tell when he was truly upset, when he was being dramatic, and when he was just goofing around.  The best example happened when we had a little party on Sunday.  A couple with three daughters came over for a barbecue.  (Holy cow, five kids at once!)  All the kids were playing on their own and the adults were talking in the kitchen.  At one point, Jackson came in and said, “I want to play with the girls but all they want to do is sleep.”  Apparently, the two older girls were pretending to sleep on Jackson’s air mattress in the basement.  I asked him if it bothered him that they were using his bed but he said no, that he just wanted them to play and they wouldn’t.  We told him that he couldn’t make them play and neither could we, but that he could suggest a different game or play by himself.  He went off and I thought it was over, but about five minutes later I noticed the girls had come upstairs and I thought I heard, over the din, a wailing coming from the basement.  I ran down and Jackson was by himself, crying.  He said the same thing, that he was upset that the girls didn’t want to play with him.  I almost went into problem-solving mode again, but then I realized that this was more than frustration.  I went over and hugged him and said, “We’ll talk about what to do in a minute, but for now let’s just have a hug.”  He leaned right into it and it obviously comforted him.  We took some deep breaths.  When he was feeling better, I asked him a couple of questions about how he felt (it was mostly disappointment) and then I repeated some of the suggestions for what he could do next.  This time, he went upstairs and everything was fine.  It might have helped that the girls were done “sleeping” but I also know that, besides suggestions for actions, Jackson needed someone to acknowledge his hurt.  Wow, that felt good. 

Another skill I used, straight out of How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk, was acknowledging Jackson’s feelings by fantasy wish-granting.  We have this snake, a stuffed animal we got at the zoo.  We named it Severus, for reasons obvious to any Harry Potter fan.  Jackson loved Severus, and at one point he said, “I wish I could take Severus home with me.”  I think I said something like, “Oh, that’s too bad.”  Jackson didn’t complain, but afterwards I realized that I could have done better.  Later, I was given a second chance when Jackson was packing up his things to leave while carrying Severus around on his shoulders.  I said, “I wish I could wave a wand like Harry Potter and make a duplicate Severus for you to take home.”  Jackson looked at me and I swear, I saw him pause to digest what I had said and then he gave me the best, most appreciative smile I’ve ever seen.  All he said was, “Thanks,” with delighted surprise in his voice.  It’s hard to convey in words what I saw in the smile and heard in that voice.  All I can say is, “It works!”

Another thing that really struck me was how much Jackson really listened.  The first morning, he woke up early and stomped around the house and eventually woke up Samantha.  Adam explained to him that he needed to be extra quiet in the morning so as not to wake her up, and left it at that.  The next morning, I awoke to the sound of my name, opened my eyes, and saw a sweet face in front of me.  Jackson whispered, “Can I watch TV?”  I said “Sure, I’ll help you get set up,” and got up.  We were halfway downstairs when I realized that Jackson was walking quietly and whispering.  I said, “Thank you for being so quiet, Jackson.”  Later in the day, I made sure to tell Adam, with Jackson within earshot, how quiet Jackson had been that morning.  It was actually quite difficult not to overdo the praise.  I didn’t want him to think that we were surprised that he was so good, but, in fact, I was a bit surprised.  I’m still rooting out that bad premise that kids are little heathens who will be naughty by default.

Some other random observations:

• All the kids got along very well together with very little supervision.  I know that having a baby will be very different, but ages seven and (almost) three for one weekend was pretty easy.  If things go as I hope they will, Sam will be the seven-year-old in a pair in about four years.
• I didn’t like the chaos of five kids in the house, but really, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
• Boys are messy bathroom-goers.  If I ever have one, I’m keeping a mop in the bathroom.
• I don’t know if it’s a boy thing or an age thing or a Jackson thing, but Jackson is totally ballistic compared to Samantha.  He can tear through a room and pull out dozens of toys in one minute flat.  Thankfully, he was very willing to clean up when he was done.  He doesn’t seem to be careless, but he still breaks things easily.  He always apologized and even told me that he tried to fix things.  I think he’s still learning his own strength.  I had to work hard to let go and just let whatever happened, happen.  Luckily, no major damage was done.
• Jackson sleeps so soundly I had to check his breathing.  It took me about ten minutes to get him up for a bathroom run in the middle of the night.  Toby barked right next to his ear and he didn’t even stir.  I sure hope that is a typical kid thing and not just Jackson.  As of now, Sam wakes up when Toby barks on the far side of the house.
• The noise level goes up exponentially with the number of children in the house.
• The mess level goes up exponentially with the number of children in the house.
• Five kids can go through a bottle of apple juice in a matter of hours.
• There’s no such thing as a kid who laughs too loud.

It’s that after-sick time now in our house.  Samantha is much better today, but I’m losing my mind because she has become a whining, annoying, uncooperative baby.  I hate to say that about my own child (and I wouldn’t say it to her face), but it’s true.  Of course, we made her that way by spoiling her for the past 5 days.  And it’s hard to get out of the habit.  We’ve been sleeping in her room, spoon feeding her, letting her drink juice all day, and basically giving her anything she wants.  While she is sick, she doesn’t abuse her power, but the better she feels, the more she reverts to screaming at any little thing that doesn’t go her way. 

I think this is what people mean when they say that being a parent requires patience.  A few days of proper parenting is the cure for this ill.

Tonight, Adam taught Samantha how to say, “Give me a shot, barkeep.  And make it a double!”  He also taught her how to say, “One more for the road.”  Why does that make him a good dad?  Because Sam is sick and needs her fluids, and that little game is what got her to drink a whole glass of juice, one little medicine cup at a time.

In case anyone wonders why I read dooce, here’s the answer.

It looks like Samantha has her first case of croup.  Around 11pm last night, a sound came from her bedroom that made me sit up in bed, and made Adam run into our bedroom to ask me if I had made that noise.  It sounded like a barking seal and it was loud. 

A bit later, Sam woke up crying and we could tell she was not going back to sleep so we went in to give her Tylenol and some love.  When it was time for her to get back in bed, she asked to keep her bedroom door open which we’ve never done before.  I did want to be able to hear her and I thought it was a good time to test out this new freedom.  Even though she can open doors now, she hasn’t bothered to come out of her room at night yet.  That is just typical Samantha.  But I know someday she will open that door and I thought leaving it open this time might help to comfort her and give her some practice at the same time.

I had to return her to her bed 3-4 times, and Adam did it once.  We used the Supernanny technique.  The first time, I said, “It’s time for bed, sweetie.”  The second time, “Bedtime.”  All other times, no words, just a gentle and calm touch when picking her up.  She cried for about a half hour, which is probably what she would have done with the door closed anyway.  Then she stayed in her room for the rest of the night.  She woke up coughing a few times, but she stayed in bed.

I hope this bodes well for the future of bedtime.

I Googled “croup” this morning and it appears that she has a mild case that won’t require a trip to the doctor, but she might miss her second day of day care this week if the fever doesn’t pass quickly.  I really hate that.  We’re also having our friends’ son (the one we went to the Bahamas with) stay with us this weekend, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she gets better quickly.