Week 2, Day 7

Jerry and I talked some more about our buttons last night and this morning. Only one girl had called out “Glass Man!” all week. It was to Jerry, and I can’t even remember what the activating event was. It was toward the beginning of the week, and Jerry had responded, “Ok, well, since you called me out, now we get to talk about what just happened.” “Umm, honey?” I said. He looked at me. “Our job this week is just to self-reflect.” “So when do we get to talk about it?” “Not this week.” I said.

Since then, and with all the positive changes, there has been very little overreacting. I still hate to be ignored. But when I really think about it, when I feel that way, the story I tell myself is that the child is trying to make me mad and doesn’t respect me and clearly doesn’t appreciate all the things I do and will grow up to be an ungrateful spoiled brat and people who know her will think I must be that way too. Sigh. What a lot of baggage to lay on a little kid! And when I step back and look, what’s usually going on is that they are frightened because I seem just a little bit out of control and so they go quiet in an attempt to hide from me and protect themselves.

Jerry said he definitely feels triggered when he sees the older girls leaving Charlotte out. “What do you tell yourself about that?” I asked. “That she’ll always be alone…I just remember me as a little boy and how afraid I was to approach people. It took me so long to get up the courage to join any sort of group … and when my mom left … and my dad basically left too…” “You were isolated.” “Yeah, which I know is totally different from Charlotte’s situation.” “Right, and it’s important to consciously tell yourself that and treat her like she can handle it. She can be her own best friend and she has good friends at school. And I don’t think shyness is a problem for her.” “No, no, I don’t think she has any of my issues there.”

This morning he took note of another of his buttons when Fenner and Charlotte had a squabble at the breakfast table. Charlotte was frosting her cinnamon bun and Fenner needed some too. “She always hogs it all!” said Fenner. “Well maybe if you ask nicely …” I forced myself to stop there. Fenner walked over to Charlotte, “Charlotte, can I please have some frosting?” Charlotte ignored her. “Charlotte!! Can I please have some?! … Answer me!! … CHARLOTTE!!!” Fenner got right in her face and Charlotte let out a high pitched scream. I heard a muffled groan and looked at Jerry. His head was tilted back and his hands covered his face. He was working hard to stay calm and quiet. We both held our tongues and within minutes they had worked it out with the frosting themselves. Jerry looked at me and said, “I’ll add that one to my list.” I smiled.

Later on I was stripping our bed and Charlotte asked if she could play on it before I put the new sheets on. I said ok and she ran downstairs, “Fenner, Ellen! Guys! Come play on the big bed! Mom took the sheets off and it’s the soft thing on top!” To my surprise, they accepted her invitation and enjoyed a few moments of close-knit harmony with minimal bickering and almost no hitting. I’ll take it!

Friday morning: another chance

6:45 — I got out of the shower and listened. No sign of Charlotte. Didn’t I set her alarm for 6:30? Uh-oh. I opened her door and peeked in. She picked her head up and looked at me. “What? I’m just stretching,” she said. “Did your alarm go off?” “No, I just woke up.” “Hmm. I think it must have because the button is down.” “Ohhh…again?!” “Well, remember how fast you were yesterday? If you do that again you’ll make it because you’re earlier than yesterday.” “Alright!” And she hopped out of bed.

6:55 — I went downstairs and fidgeted. I really want her to make it this time! I tried to think of something to do so wouldn’t hover. Charlotte came down and Fenner and Ellen were finishing breakfast. Then Charlotte started playing with the cats. “Mom!” said Ellen. “We’ll have to leave without her again!” I looked at Ellen. That was a good sign, actually. I was afraid they had only been taking the bus to avoid Charlotte, and that if she tried to walk up with them they would speed up to try and ditch her. It could still happen. I stood there and fretted. Would they ditch her? Would she even make it? She’s still playing with the cats!

7:00 — She finally started making her lunch. Fenner and Ellen put their back packs on. “Ok! We’re leaving! Bye!” Darn. There went the big sister escort. Charlotte stopped again to talk to the cats. “Oh, are you hungry? Here let me get you some food….”

7:05 — Jerry looked at me and whispered, “What time does the bus come?” I whispered back, “Yesterday it came at 7:10.” Hmmm. “Ok, almost done with my lunch … there, now … awwwww, my coat is at Sloane’s! … Oh! Here’s this one! … Hmm, seems pretty warm out. But I think I’ll wear a hat just in case …” At this point it’s all I can do to keep my mouth shut. “Ok, mom, ready!” “Ok, are you all set to walk up by yourself, or do you want me to come?” “I want you to come.” “Ok, we’ll see what happens!”

7:08 — We walked together up the hill. I was pretty sure she hadn’t eaten anything and I had to restrain myself from running back and grabbing a granola bar. When we got to the top of the driveway I heard that low rumbling engine sound coming up the far road. And then over the hill I could just see the yellow roof of the bus headed toward the bus stop which was still 100 yds away. “Charlotte. There’s the bus.” She looked and then ran as fast as she could for about 25 yds. Then she saw it pull away from her. She turned and looked at me. And then hung her head.

I felt her pain all through me and I almost started in with my “oh you poor thing” voice but stopped myself and took a deep breath. “Well!” I said, “Every time you get a little closer!” “This time I wasn’t closer!” she said, close to tears. “Right, but this time you had time to play with the cats, and you still almost made it! … I guess if you see Fenner and Ellen leave, you know it’s time to get going.” “That’s because they’re used to it!!” “Yes, that’s true…what do you think would help?” “If you woke me up and helped me get dressed and helped me make my lunch faster!!” “Mmm…hey you know, there’s a snooze button on your clock. I’ll teach you about that because if you use that when you’re sleepy then the alarm goes off again just a little bit later and makes sure you get up.” “Ok.” “Do you want me to bring you in super early again today? Because here you are all ready again, and I’m not ready again!” She smiled. “And do you know that yesterday you beat Fenner and Ellen to school?” “I did?” “Yes.” “Well that’s because the bus takes so long, and you know what’s weird is that they leave earlier and I leave later, but I still get there before them! … I guess that’s the good thing about missing the bus. … Hey, dad, you know what’s weird?” And then she told him what the good thing is about missing the bus …

Thursday continued

Charlotte jumped right in the car to go to karate. After class I made myself do nothing to help while she changed out of her uniform and got ready to go. That was hard in the face of, “Mom, where’s my bag? … I can’t find my pants.” Then she left her socks in the bathroom. I bit my tongue as long as I could and then moved toward the door to go wait outside. Charlotte looked at me and said, “Mom, what are ya doin’, you stinky head?!” That was definitely my cue to leave. (Especially because she said that right in front of some other parents. Geez.) “I’m going to wait in the car.” I sat there and watched her come out without her uniform bag. “Got everything?” I said. “Yep, let’s go,” she said as she buckled her seat belt. “You’re sure?…You’ve got everything?” I could not drive away without that uniform. “Awwwwww!!!” she groaned and got out and stomped her way back in to get it.

From there we swung back by Sloane’s to pick up Fenner and Ellen and headed home. About halfway home I said, “Charlotte? Where’s your back pack?” “Uhhh … it’s …. at … home?” “No,” said Fenner. “It can’t be.” Charlotte scrunched up her face and hit her forehead with her palm, “Oh!!! It’s at Sloane’s!” “That was tricky,” I said. “Because you were already in the car so it was hard to remember that you didn’t already have it.” “Now I have to use my spare back pack again!”

At home, Fenner showed off her make-a-plate that had arrived at school. “Where’s my make-a-plate?” said Charlotte, “rrrrrgggh, it’s in my back pack! … And there’s something else in my back pack I really need!!!!!!!!!” her voice escalated into a pre-sobbing wail. “It’s the surprise bag from schhooooool, and I’m supposed too have it back tomooooorroooowwwww, it’s my ooonly chaaaaaaaaaaance to hhaaaee dee pllleesss the mmaaaaaaa……!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Her words dissolved into unintelligible sobs. Ellen covered her ears and looked at me with a pained expression. Then she said, “Charlotte, you can just do the surprise bag on Monday!” The crying softened a bit. “Charlotte, I can write to your teacher and ask her if Monday would be ok … except…oh, it’s vacation next week.” The crying intensified again. “Well…” I offered, “I think it’ll be ok, you’ll just have all vacation to decide what to put in it!” She kept crying, but not quite as hard. I went upstairs.

Jerry came down the hall. “This is hard,” he said. “I can drive to Sloane’s and get her back pack.” I stared at him. “Absolutely not! Have you learned nothing?!” I said with a smile and swatted him with the laundry I was holding. Ten minutes later Charlotte was happily singing to herself and playing with the cats. “Well, she got over that!” said Jerry.

At dinner time Fenner wanted a quesadilla so I said, “How about you make it this time?” “But last time I burned it and I don’t want that again.” “Ok, so now you know not to cook it so long.” “Ok.” Then Jerry chimed in, “Are you using that pan?” “Yeah, is that ok?” “Yeah, that’s fine. … um you have to … make sure you turn it all the way until it clicks.” The burner lit with a large puff of flame. “Yeah, see? That’s why because you put out extra gas if you don’t turn it all the way…Ok! That’s all I’m going to say.” He put his hands up and walked away. “Got the safety issue taken care of?” I said. “Got the safety issue taken care of, now I’m going to sit and have my supper and Fenner, you can do the rest.” “But … but … how do I flip it?” “You figure it out,” he said and looked over at me. “But I can’t! I don’t know how?!” “Can you just use the spatula?” I said. “No! I don’t know!…Dad, can you just flip it for me?” “Fenner, what’s the worst that could happen?” I asked. “I might do it wrong, or drop it!” “Drop it back in the pan? You won’t be holding it over the floor.” “Well it might flop over halfway and all the cheese falls out!” “Yeah, but that’s ok!” said Jerry. “Ok, how about if dad stands right next to you and gives you some pointers and you do the flipping?” I said. Then Ellen chimed in, “I held onto Nana’s shirt while I was flipping pancakes because I was doing it so bad.” “Did that help?” asked Jerry. “Yeah.”

Jerry got up and stood next to Fenner. “Ok, now you take the pan…you take it…own the pan…own that pan! … Ok now throw it up in the air!” Fenner held the pan with both hands. She was smiling and her eyes were wide. “Ok, ok … aah!!!” It slid halfway out of the pan. “Ok, try again.” She gave it more muscle. It slid out of the pan and flipped onto the cutting board. “Hey, you flipped it!” I said. “Yeah!” said Jerry. “And now you can just push it back into the pan like this.” Fenner’s face was radiant. Huge smile. She cooked the other side and then sat down to enjoy her creation.

At 8:00pm Charlotte asked to watch TV. “Nope!” said Fenner. “I haven’t done my homework.” “Oh! Charlotte told me earlier that you did do your homework.” I said. “Well she was wrong!” I looked at Charlotte who had a big sheepish grin. “Oh, well, then the answer is definitely no.” “I just have my reading log to do!” said Ellen happily. And they both went to work.

No TV so Charlotte decided to check in with her pet rat, Bill. 8:30 rolled around and Jerry and I headed upstairs to hang out and be ready if/when they all three got to bed before 9pm. Suddenly Charlotte started crying hard. “Bill bit me! He bit me!” She came up to the bathroom and I went to see. Yep, it broke the skin. “I don’t like Bill anymore, I don’t want him, I want to give him away!!! … Look, it’s bleeding!!!” I got it cleaned up and bandaged and she calmed down. “Mom, it hurts. Will you help me?” “Hmm…” I thought for a minute. “Ok. Injured kids who are bleeding get help brushing their teeth.” So I helped her out and she got into bed. Now it was 8:50 and Fenner hadn’t come up yet. “Can we read a book?” she asked. “No. Not everyone’s in bed yet. But if everyone gets to bed in time, then I’ll come back.” “Ok.” “But before I go, do you want your alarm set for bus time or mom time?” “Bus time,” she said.

At 8:54 everyone was in their rooms. Two minutes each. No complaints. Yeehaw.

Thursday am

This morning I woke to the sound of the shower in the girls bathroom. What? I thought. Someone motivated to shower and didn’t even ask for my help to get the temp just right? How many times during these 12 weeks will I say the word “wow”? Apparently many, many times…

6:50 — once again I hear voices downstairs, “C’mon, c’mon, hurry …. we have to go …. Bye! We’re leaving!” Fenner and Ellen gone to school. My role in that: zippo.

6:55 — “Mom?! … Am I in time to get the bus?” says Charlotte. “Umm, well the bus comes in twenty minutes, so if you’re ready in 10, you should be ok.” She starts hustling and I realize that she might actually make it. I had promised to walk up with her the first time, so I start hustling too (at that point I was still in my robe!)

7:05 — “Ready!” “Wow! Ok, let’s go.” We start walking up the hill together.

7:10 — We’re approaching the top of the hill when we hear a bus-like sound. I crane by neck just in time to see the top of the bus pull over, and then go again … away from us. “What? Is that the bus already? It can’t be. It’s too early!” But it was. I looked at Charlotte, bracing myself for what might be coming. But she still had a bit of a smile. “Charlotte. The bus came early. You made another good effort, but it came early and that’s just bad luck. So we’re learning. Now we know that we have to be early in case the bus is early.” At that she actually laughed. “So now that you’re all ready would you like to be super early to school? I can take you in super early.” “Yeah.” “Ok, well I have to go get ready because now you’re all ready and I’m not ready so I better go get ready!” She laughed again and said, “Mom, take the short cut!” “Thanks!” I said and started a fast walk down the hill.

7:20 — At the house I went inside to quickly get dressed for work and listened for Charlotte who I assumed was doing a slow walk behind me. But when I finished dressing I still hadn’t heard her come in so I figured she must have stopped to play in the yard.

7:30 — I don’t see Charlotte anywhere. I get in the car and drive slowly up the driveway looking all around. I thought, oh my gosh, is she waiting for me up at the bus stop? And as I drove up the hill I suddenly saw her tiny head appear and then the rest of her. She was holding a long stick that she had been using to draw in the dirt while she waited. Her face still looked peaceful. I stopped and opened the side door. “Ok, hop on the mom bus!”

“Thanks, mom,” she said. And happily put on her seatbelt.

I’d say my morning routine has been, as Calvin of Calvin&Hobbes would say, transmorgrified.

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Resilience

Charlotte came home from school all happy and bubbly, and I thought, what was I so worried about? Clearly this is not a kid who gets knocked down by one thwarted plan to catch the bus:

We played a long game of frisbee together, and then I said, “Charlotte, today is your last gymnastics class. I would love to watch you, but I’m not going to make you go. Would you like to go to your last class?” “No.” Oh, darn, I thought, more money down the drain. “Are you sure?…Last chance to practice that cartwheel and maybe do another flip in the air.” “No,” she said. “Ok. You don’t have to go. However, I will be taking Fenner to her gymnastics class and so you will have to come then.” “Awwwww, but I don’t want to go!” “Hmm, this is a problem. Will you help me solve it?” She said yes and I got a pad of paper and wrote the problem at the top and wrote down all the solutions we could think of. Her top choice was Arrange a playdate for Charlotte but we settled on Watch a movie at Nana and Papas.

A bit later Fenner came by. “Charlotte, do you want to go to gymnastics today? It’s game day! You get to play games and have fun…do you want to go?” “No.” “Well…are you going to let me go to my gymnastics?” “Yes.” “Oh…good…because I really want to go.” (Another baby step in the right direction.)

After week one, Fenner has totally taken on the responsibility of deciding when to get ready and leave for both school and her activities. My challenge now is to pay attention so I’m ready when she says ok let’s go. All those things I used to say: “Are you watching the clock? You’d better get dressed. Is this show almost over? If you want to be on time we have to leave soon. Fifteen minutes! Ten minutes! Five minutes!” And on and on. Now I don’t say a word. Occasionally Fenner asks me what time it is, and then I wait for her to say, “I’m ready mom!” It’s pretty incredible.

And when it was time to leave Sloane’s house to pick Fenner up again, Ellen was playing with her cousins and I said, “Ellen, time to go, I’ll be in the car!” And forced myself to stop there and go to the car. I wasn’t sure what she would do, but less than 5 minutes later she was in the car with me. Wow.

At 8:30pm they were all happily gathered around Fenner’s Nintendo DS. I was sorting the mail nearby and all was well until Charlotte decided to try and hit the game out of Fenner’s hands. “Stop!! Why did you do that?! Now you can’t watch, you dummy!!” And she hit Charlotte on the arm. I felt my body react but I kept my mouth shut and I quickly walked away and headed upstairs.

That’s definitely one of my buttons: Big sisters who are nasty. I lied down on my bed and thought about that. So what do I believe about big sisters who are nasty? Big sisters who are nasty will be nasty all their lives to lots of people and people won’t like them, and those people will assume the parents of that nasty person must have been nasty too and the nastiness is sure to destroy any hope of a loving sister relationship at any point in the future. And is that belief reasonable and realistic? Well, I pestered my older sister and she was mean to me for years and now we are nice and loving people and we are also very good friends. So …. no … not reasonable or realistic. Got it.

Hey, nobody watched any TV again today. Will the surprises never cease?

Wednesday Woes

This morning I’m wracked with guilt. Guilt? Or is it just vicarious pain? Charlotte wanted so badly to catch the bus this morning. She did not want to ride in with our neighbor. She was willing to ride the bus all by herself and do the uphill walk to the bus stop and she had picked out her clothes and made her lunch the night before and even placed her back pack carefully by the door. I was totally amazed.

I helped her set her new alarm clock to the earlier time she needed to catch the bus. This morning I heard it go off, and I heard her hit the button, and then it got very quiet again. She went back to sleep. We’ve all done it. How could a six-year-old know how easily that can happen? Should I wake her up? I thought. No. She’ll learn this way not to close her eyes again if she really needs to get up. And then she’ll get a bit more sleep this morning, which she probably really needs. I’ll just re-set the alarm so at least she’ll be awake in time to catch the neighbor’s ride.

Her alarm went off again 30 minutes later. I heard her getting up and putting on the clothes she had laid out. Then Fenner called out, “Charlotte you missed the bus!” “No?!” “Yeah! It’s 7:00!” “Mom!!!! You didn’t set it!!!” I cringed and went in her room. “I did set it. What happened was the alarm went off at bus time and you turned it off and then you went back to sleep. So I set it again for you to wake you up at the regular time.” A look of total misery came over her face. “But I don’t waaaaant to go with them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she wailed and wailed. I wasn’t expecting this level of upset. It was heartbreaking.

“Ok Charlotte, since you made all this effort to prepare, you could still make it in time. If you’re your fastest self and you’re downstairs in 5 minutes I’m willing to drive you to the bus stop.” “Ok” she said.

I went downstairs and waited. The minutes ticked by. Finally she appeared at the top of the stairs and slowly walked halfway down and then sat. She rubbed her eyes and looked at me. “Charlotte? You’re running out of time.” “Well, will you drive me to the bus stop?” I looked at my watch. “Well if we go right now, you still might make it. I’ll get in the car.” So I did. And sat there. Then I heard a muffled “Mom!” from inside. I went back in. Charlotte was standing in the mudroom with a look of pure sadness mixed with desperation. “I can’t find my shoes! The blue ones. This mudroom is so messy I can’t find my shoes.” “Charlotte, I’m so sorry. You made such a good effort to prepare. You picked out your clothes and you made your lunch … but the bus is gone by now.” More wailing and crying. “Charlotte you have ten minutes until the neighbor comes. If you’d like to get something to eat, I’m willing to look for your shoes.” “I don’t waaaaaaant to go. Will you please, please drive me?” “No…do you want your crocs or your shoes?” “My blue shoes.” “Ok.” I looked around the mudroom a bit, but I was pretty sure they were in the car. I went out to look. In the back seat were both pairs of her shoes and all three of her coats plus her spare back pack, her favorite stuffy, and her karate uniform. I grabbed her shoes and one of her coats and went back inside. “Charlotte, in the car was both pairs of your shoes and three of your coats. So when you leave your stuff in the car like that it makes it hard to find things.” That just made her cry all over again, “Oh, I missed the bus all because of me!!! I’ll never get the bus, never, never, never!!!”

The neighbors arrived and she was sitting in a chair in the dining room, despondent. “I’m not going,” she said. I felt my insides tighten. I had appointments and meetings today. The neighbors were waiting. “I’m sorry Charlotte, but today you have to go.” I didn’t know what else to do. I tried to pick her up out of the chair. She resisted hard. So I started talking, probably too much, and struggled to keep any anger out of my voice, “I’m sorry Charlotte, but I have meetings today. You have to go. Waking up for the bus will just take a little more practice. Next week we’ll figure out a plan to make sure you wake up. But right now, this is your ride to school.” And then I did what I thought I had given up doing forever. I pulled her to her feet, stuck her arms in her coat, and gently pushed her out the door. She walked slowly with slumped shoulders and got in the car. And then I handed the neighbor her back pack.

As they drove away, it was my turn to slump my shoulders. Feels like when the good days get better, the bad days feel even worse.

Tuesday again

This morning Fenner and Ellen rallied again to catch the bus. A cold walk and close to an hour-long ride! Jerry pulled me aside and asked if he should offer to drive them to the bus stop. “No. They don’t have to do this, you know, they can get a ride with me. So let’s treat them like they can handle it.” And sure enough, off they went.

Soon Charlotte came down all dressed. “Where’s Fenner and Ellen?” “They took the bus again.” “Aw, so my alarm clock’s not working.” “Oh, I didn’t know you wanted to take the bus. Tonight we’ll change your alarm clock to bus time.” “Ok, but do it for way before bus time because it kind of takes me a long time to get dressed.”

Then she said, “Mom, do you have to make my lunch?” “No!” I said with a big smile. “Because now I know you can do it!“ She smiled back and went to work on her lunch. “Mom, am I late?” “Nope!” I said. She continued getting ready and she was so fast that before I knew it, she was standing in the mudroom, coat and back pack on, waiting for ME!

After school Ellen finally washed her hair. No trick on my part. She just finally did it.

One more tidbit: At riding, Fenner checked the schedule and walked over toward me. I could tell by her body language that she was not happy. “Hi.” I said. “I don’t want to ride Daisy.” Her face was full of anxiety and she looked on the verge of tears. “Hmm. I don’t have any power to change that. You’ll have to ask Kaley or Sally. You’ve asked to switch before and they said yes, right?” She nodded, but was still holding back the tears. I said nothing and walked over to where I usually sit and watch. She slowly made her way over to the riding ring where the teacher was finishing an earlier lesson. She stood there waiting for the teacher to notice her. I thought to myself: Oh, why can’t she just march over and use her strong voice and say, “Hey Kaley, is there any other horse I could ride besides Daisy?” I mean, it’s just a question, a perfectly reasonable question. But she just stood there, kicking at the dirt until the teacher addressed her, “What’s up?” “Um … I don’t want to ride Daisy…” She said in a tiny voice. They talked for a minute and then Fenner came over to me. “So…what did you decide?” “I’m going to ride Brickle,” she said, and flopped down in the chair next to me.

Note to self: Add “Ask for what you want” to the list of needed life skills.

P.S. As I was going to bed, it occurred to me that no one had even asked to watch TV all day. Interesting….

Monday part II

So we were cruising along with the new strategy of ignoring Charlotte’s negative behavior, until … the parking lot. It had begun to feel almost good, actually, knowing that not only am I not supposed to reprimand her for every little thing, but that doing that actually makes things worse. So I was starting to get used to tuning out the bad behavior instead of reacting every time, and I was relieved.

However, as Vicki says, if something is physically dangerous, do whatever you have to to intervene. So when Charlotte started running away from me in the strip mall parking lot I was caught off guard. It scared me and that kind of fear gets all mixed up with the pure frustration of a child doing the exact opposite of what you ask. So there I was, the new and improved hands-off mom, chasing Charlotte and grabbing her and putting her into the car.

She slumped in her seat with a sullen face. For that I had no choice, but I did have a choice about what to say next. I forced myself to drop the anger and only express the concern: “Charlotte, parking lots scare me and if a car came and something happened to you I would be sooooooo sad because you are my special Charlotte, my one and only Charlotte, and I want you to be safe.” Her head came up and she had a half smile. “I’m sorry, Mom.” And that was it.

Back at home, the adventures continued. Charlotte wanted to use the video camera again. “Mom, where’s the camera?” “Up on top of my tall dresser,” I said. Up the stairs she went. “Moooooom , I don’t see it, Mooooom!!!!!!!” Her volume and tone grated on my nerves, even from upstairs. I didn’t respond. “Mooooooooom!!!!!!!!!!!” she screamed several times over. I stayed quiet. Jerry offered me a big hug to calm my nerves. She started to cry and came back downstairs. “Moooommmyyyyyy!!!!! Answer me!!!!!!! …. Mooooom!!!!!” I continued putting the groceries away while my stomach secretly turned in knots. And then, suddenly, a little sniff and, “Mom?” “Yes?” I turned, leaned forward, and looked right into her eyes. “Mommy, I can’t find the camera.” “I see. Hmm. Let’s go look together.” I know that won’t be the last time, but I think it made a dent.

Later, Jerry and I were ready to try our new bedtime routine again. We headed upstairs at 8:30 and Fenner and Ellen soon followed. “Mom, Charlotte’s not coming up,” said Fenner. “Does that mean we get no time with you?” “Uh, right. You guys are a team, so you get us only if everyone is in bed.” “That’s not fair!!!!” she wailed. Jerry frowned and whispered to me, “That’s not fair, is it? We should spend time with who ever comes up.” I motioned for him to come into our bedroom so we could talk. “Remember last night, when they were helping each other?” I said. “It forces them to work together to get what they want.” “Right … you’re right, ok.” Just then we heard Ellen call down to Charlotte and then her footsteps running upstairs. “There!” I said, and we exchanged a smile.

When it got all quiet we opened the door to see Charlotte run out of the bathroom into her room. 8:45pm – 5 minutes with each girl. Smoooth sailing….

Monday surprises

At 6:45am, I was standing at my dresser and Fenner called down the hall, “Bye mom! I’m taking the bus!” “Oh! Ok, honey!” I called back, trying not to sound too surprised. So it appears that even though they all know the official week of Do nothing/Say nothing is over, they can’t ignore their new-found independence any more than we can. Everyone had experienced a basic shift that was here to stay.

Now, I don’t want to make it sound like I’m never tempted to slip back into my old ways. I am…every day. It’s familiar and strangely comfortable there. I know exactly how to do my old self, and it’s easy to slip. But awareness brings me back and I forgive myself right away and start again.

“Daaaad, daaaaad!” said Ellen as she came into our bedroom at 6:55. “Yes?” “Well, myself is urging myself to take the bus with Fenner, but myself doesn’t want to.” “Hmm.” he said. “Myself doesn’t want to take the bus but what is myself going to do about Charlotte?” I chimed in, “Well, it turns out I set up her alarm clock for her and it should be about to…..” Just then we hear one beep of Charlotte’s alarm clock, and then silence. “That was it, but she must have turned it off already!” Ellen ran into her room and then we heard Charlotte’s voice. Success! (Later she said to me, “Mom, I really like having my alarm clock.”)

Charlotte got out of bed, but then went into whine mode when she couldn’t find any of her favorite clothes to wear. “Mooooom!!” she said, close to tears, “What happens if I don’t go to school?!” “Um, no TV and no computer for the whole day.” He shoulders slumped and she plodded over to her dresser. Ellen did her best to help her, knowing that if she can help Charlotte to be on time with her, then they can all earn the right to stay up later at the end of the week. I reminded Charlotte that I hadn’t been picking up her room as usual, and she would probably find most of her favorite clothes scattered on the floor. Then I went downstairs and she got herself dressed. The next challenge was Charlotte discovering that the pantry was getting low and did not leave very many choices for her lunch. I started helping and then had to stop myself from doing too much. I put on my coat and said, “I’ll be in the car!” Ellen replied a cheerful, “Ok!”

I could hear Ellen offering Charlotte as much help as she possibly could and within minutes they both came out of the house and hopped in the car. Seat belts, click, click, and “Ready!” And we were off–right on time.

As we pulled into school and stopped the car I heard Ellen say, “Oh, bleh.” “What’s up?” “I forgot something.” I glanced around the car. “Your backpack.” “Yeah.” And at that moment I noticed a remarkable change in myself. In the past I would’ve blamed myself for not making sure Ellen had her backpack. I would’ve felt instantly guilty and translated that guilt into crabbiness toward Ellen with a dash of what will people think? thrown in. But now all I had was pure empathy. “Oh, Ellen. I’m so sorry….Here, take these goldfish someone left in the car …” She did and walked into school willingly but without the usual spring in her step.

Then Charlotte looked at me and smiled, “Well, I do have my backpack, yay me! Bye mom!” And then instead of clenched teeth and sour guilt, I started off to work with a big grin.

Week 2, Day 1

Fenner gets a quick pancake lesson

Easter Sunday — what a great day to celebrate our accomplishments from week 1! Easter baskets, and waffles and pancakes a-la-dad for everyone! Not only that, but I heard Fenner offer to help Charlotte try on her new shirt she got, and Ellen didn’t complain one  bit when Charlotte took her favorite seat at the table! (A source of much past contention.) “Girls, job well done this week,” I said. “Daddy and I learned a lot about what you’re capable of and where we need to back off. Fenner and Ellen, you got yourselves to school four times with zero help–zero!” And Charlotte, on Thursday you got yourself to school right on time even without an alarm clock, and you made your own lunch three times! Now this morning we’re going to enjoy Easter and go to Nana and Papa’s for lunch, and then after that, we’ll talk about what’s next.”

There was only one bit of trouble at Nana and Papa’s (my parents’). In the background through all of this is a basic shift in our strategy with Charlotte (really with all three girls, but the biggest change is in our response to Charlotte). We have committed to behaving as though we do not notice any of her negative behavior. While she’s doing it–clinging, whining, pestering, interrupting–we give no verbal engagement, no eye contact, and whenever necessary, we calmly and quietly separate ourselves from her physically until the behavior stops.

Well, Vicki warned us that it would get worse before it gets better. And with Charlotte not getting the usual response from us, she has kicked things up a notch. She sat across from me at Easter lunch and I could feel it–that feeling I get that as soon as I open my mouth to join in the adult conversation, Charlotte will do something to vie for my attention. I find myself eating quietly and barely listening to the conversation because it’s easier than dealing with Charlotte’s demands. Even so, after a little while, I try talking. “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy! I have to tell you something! Excuse me! Excuse me! Excuse me!” I could feel my whole body tense up and without thinking about it, I looked at her. She stared at me and then spoke. “When is dessert?” I looked down at my plate, and said softly, “I don’t know.” Instantly, I felt drained and deflated. Then someone asked me a question, and I tried to answer. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Each time the volume increased a bit more. I stopped talking but forced myself not to look at her. And then I noticed that I felt on the verge of tears. My six-year-old had my number big time. And her modus operandi was not going to go down without a fight.

Back at home, Jerry and I talked privately about next steps. Together we realized that for all these years, we had been neglecting some basic life skills training. “Honey, these are basic habits that they haven’t formed. We’re not even talking about household chores to help the family. This is just self-care stuff!” He and I talked through what approaches we thought would work for our girls. We knew that in order to prepare for the time when we introduce more family chores, we needed to start right away with some basics, and we wrote it all down:

Then it was time to talk with the girls. We invited them to come sit at the table while I showed them what we wrote and talked about it. It took a little time for them to settle, and I said, “When you’re sitting and quiet, I’ll start.” And I looked at the floor. Eventually  they got quiet, and I began.

“Ok, girls, it’s week 2 of our parenting class and first I’m going to tell you about my and daddy’s homework.” “Finally, you guys have homework, instead of us!” said Fenner. “Yes!” I said. “So, you know at school, sometimes the teachers talk about telling the difference between big problems and small problems and how you should save your big reactions for big problems?” “No,” said Fenner, and then added, “But there’s this boy in my class and he tripped over a chair and said all this stuff and totally overreacted.” “Ok, good example. And Charlotte, doesn’t your teacher talk about some kind of little man that gets into your head and makes you overreact and you have to pull him out of your ear and toss him away?” (I know that sounds weird, but it’s exactly what she told me the other day.) “Yeah! That’s Glass Man!” “Glass Man?” I asked. “Yeah! ‘Cause he breaks easily and then you might step on him and he cuts your foot and then you yell and makes you overreact.” “Uh, ok, so this week, Mommy and Daddy are supposed to notice when we overreact to certain problems and think about why we do that sometimes. And we want you to help. So this week, if you think we’re overreacting to something, say ‘Glass Man!’ That’ll be our code-word and Daddy and I promise to consider that and think about it.” Ok, everyone seemed on board with that, so we moved on to talk about what we had written for the girls.

Then the trouble began. Everytime I started to talk, Charlotte would start making loud noises or pestering Ellen who was sitting in front of her. Each time, I stopped talking and looked at the floor. And each time it got quiet again, I resumed just as I had before — no anger, no acknowledgement of her behavior. However, it got worse and worse until she was interrupting me before I could even get my first word out. Jerry had to leave the room and Fenner was becoming extremely frustrated. “Ok, Fenner, Ellen and Daddy, please come into my office.” We all went in and closed the door and I brought up the documents on my computer instead. We continued, while Charlotte yelled “Da, da, da, da!!!!” at the top of her lungs outside the door, and then moved around to the window in my office that looks into the living room. I had the shade down, and she started banging on the window. “Fenner and Ellen, we’re going to finish here with you and then when Charlotte’s ready, we’ll review with her.”

So we continued and then Charlotte got quiet and came back around to the door and said in a small voice, “Mom? I’m ready to listen.” I opened the door and she joined us, but a few minutes later, she was interrupting again. We all walked out of my office, and continued talking and Charlotte followed and continued interrupting, and so we all walked back in my office again and closed the door …. again.

Fenner and Ellen finished asking all their questions and we opened the door. I stayed at my computer to do a few things. Then I heard, “Hi mom,” behind me. “Hi Charlotte, if you’re ready to listen you can come sit on my lap.” She did, and this time she did listen all the way through, and asked good questions, and we got it done. Phew. At one point she teared up and said, “But I can’t be on time because I always wake up too late and Fenner and Ellen get mad.” “Hey, how about tonight I help you set up that new alarm clock I’ve been saving for you. I’ll show you how it works, and it will help you wake up.” “Ok,” she said.

That evening, Jerry and I sat down for dinner just as the girls came in from the living room (no, we are not good about making family dinners happen–it’s on our list for change). Fenner said, “Oh, I’m too late to ask for a quesadilla.” So Jerry said, “Why don’t you get all the stuff ready for me and then I’ll make it when I’m done eating.” She did and then I noticed she started to actually make it herself. Wow, I thought to myself. This is definitely something new. Jerry glanced over at her and then he started talking: “Whoa, Fenner, Fenner, Fenner the burner’s not on turn it … no all the way until it clicks … ok now turn it back to medium … wait, put a little oil in the pan … or the spray … it’s got the red top … oh, well, it’s a lot easier to put the cheese on in the pan, but if you can manage to move it over without spilling any cheese … ok, now, yup put the top on, and now, Fenner, the thing about cooking is that you have to be patient. It takes time, so just be patient and let it cook and just don’t do anything … yeah because if you try to flip it before the cheese melts onto the top it won’t work … ok, does it look done?  Here, let me show you…” He got up from the table and stood beside her. “No, no, now Fenner, you can’t just know how to flip it like that right away, it took me years to get that right … so, get your plate ready and watch this.” He took the pan from her and attempted to flip it out of the pan to a perfect flat landing on the cutting board.

As I watched all of this I thought–Note to self: remind Jerry not to micromanage when they try new things. I can be guilty of this too. But we need to remind ourselves that our way is not the only way, and that letting them try and fail and try again is not only a great way to learn, but is the surest way for them to build confidence in themselves.

Now it became the witching hour and the energy in the house became chaotic. We moved ourselves into the living room for the 10 minutes there was left until bedtime, but the chaos followed us. Jerry’s level of irritation was rising. “It’s ok, honey, I think our plan is going to work,” I said. Earlier together we had come up with a whole new plan for bedtime. What would it take, we asked ourselves, for them to choose to go to bed on time? What did they care about? Certainly not brushing their teeth and getting enough sleep. What they cared about was time with us. So we explained that we would be available each night for books and bedtime visits between 8:30 and 9pm (actually, first we said 8:45 to 9, but Ellen asked if they got ready earlier, could they have more time — great idea, we said, and expanded the window) So then it works like this: if all three are in their bedrooms at 8:30, then they each get 10 minutes with mom, and 10 with dad. If they get in their rooms after 8:30 we divide whatever time is left before 9 between the three of them. Now it was obvious that if we stayed in the living room, they would just stay with us, because that’s just as much fun for them as a bedtime visit. So Jerry and I adjourned to our bedroom and closed the door. We sat by the door in case anyone tried to open it, and listened to the action just outside: “Hey, where’s my tooth brush … don’t do that! … Move over! … Guys, stop fighting so we’ll get more time … ok, are you almost ready?  … Heeeeey I can’t open …. oh! Thanks! … Here, Charlotte, what else do you need? Come on, I’ll turn on your music on for you…. ok…Mooooom, Daaaaad, we’re all ready!”

We looked at each other in amazement. There was 20 minutes left until 9:00. Jerry went to Charlotte, and I went to Ellen. As I passed by Fenner’s door I said, “One of us will be there in about seven minutes!” “Ok!” she said. “Ok, Ellen, it’s 8:40 so we’ve got about seven minutes together!” She said, “We did it, and I’m proud because now I get more time with you.”

At 9:00 Jerry and I walked downstairs together, and Jerry said, “That was the most pleasant bedtime we’ve ever had.” As Fenner would say, yay us!