Responsibility and Self Control

Well.  I can't deny that I am still feeling a little subdued.  But there are other things than my own personal failures going on, and I feel that some of them should be shared.




First of all, Abbie was super proud of herself for having checked her school mailbox and remembered her lunch box.  It felt a little silly to congratulate her for things she should already be doing, but one must keep one's eye on the true goal - self sufficiency of one's children. 


Did you know that, etymologically speaking, the word "man" comes from the word "one"?  It was one of my favorite discoveries in History of the English Language.  Fascinating subject.  I actually read the text book sometimes, for fun.  Well, I try to, anyway.  The book is amazingly dull.  Amazingly.


I digress.


For the first time, we all went to the local park for Grant's running practice.  I thought that this might show me a little of that side of Grant that his father occasionally sees, but me never.  It didn't really happen that way, though.  Here is what did:


1.  Like at home, we stretched, and then did the aerobic walking, with me in front, Grant in the middle, and Abbie at the end.  There are two purposes for this exercise besides warming up.  Firstly, by staying between us, Grant has to proceed at the same steady pace I am going.  My hope is that the steadiness of pace will in some way wear off.  Secondly, I want him train him away from the strange, cutthroat berserker rage he goes into when people try to be in front of him.  I am in front.  It is fine.  Cross your fingers that it translates into a real life situation.


2.  We let Grant take off at his own pace.  If I saw him walking from where I was, I would yell encouragement.  He was always within sight, but largely on his own.  The two of us did sprint the last few yards, just for kicks.


3.  Grant walked with only me for cooling down.  I spoke in a coach-like manner, and mainly talked about how what we were currently doing was helping.


He seemed happy with the running.  I'm calling it a success.


Two Incidents:


Grant practiced his piano lesson the other day, but it wasn't going well, and he was frustrated, and he was whiny, and he took FOREVER to get done.  I noticed, but didn't say much.  Yesterday, when I reminded him to practice music when he was done with homework, he suddenly made whiny noises, when he was fine only moments ago.  I asked what the trouble was.  "Dad says to remember that music is supposed to be fun, but I don't have any fun at all!"


Knowing that this was an emotional statement, and solely based on yesterday's unsuccessful practice, I gave him a few pointers to make the pressure less.  Things like, "It's more helpful to get the notes right, one at a time, than to have it sound like a song when you are first learning one.  Read each note and play it.  It will get easier the more you do it." And, "If it is not working out - move on to something else and come back to that one.  It's not big deal." 


He played his lesson, and had so much fun that random Kid-Music lasted for 45 minutes after he was done.


For this second incident, I will give you a very brief back-story:  I am the TV Nazi. My kids are not permitted to see anything I haven't seen first.  This rule is sometimes relaxed in the context of being guests at other people's houses who occasionally ignore the fact that they know this about my children and myself....or, even less usual, are truly ignorant of the arrangement.  We are also allowing them to see a very few shows in our presence that we have not specifically previewed.  Most are cooking shows, and the other is Doctor Who.  That one is more of a leap of faith, but Grant and Abbie do love it.


Yesterday, we watched an episode.  It was To Be Continued, and Grant asked to see the next one.  Husband told the kids, "Well, if you get your teeth brushed and your clothes set out for tomorrow..." Grant immediately skipped all preliminaries and went directly into whine-crying and running away with stomping feet.  I stopped him and pointed out the fact that his father had not, in fact, said no.  Grant continued to cry, and we were forced to declare that this behavior removed all possibilities for seeing the show.


Don't remember why I did it, but I pulled Grant aside and asked him if he could stop.  By stopping, I am referring to the emotional outburst.  I held both his hands and asked him if he could.  He said yes.  I asked him to try.  He tried.


He stopped.


He went to brush his teeth, and while he was occupied, I plead his case.  While we don't want to reward an outburst, we do want to reward control of it.  As long as he understands what is being encouraged and what is not, this can be made a VERY useful demonstration.


I went and found Grant and told him that what he had done was HARD.  And he had done a wonderful job.  He could see the episode. 


Husband is the kind of guy who would immediately announce, "Now, this doesn't mean you should pitch a fit and then stop if you want something!!"  Thereby arming the smart child with the wrong knowledge.  Hopefully, I was able to keep him from saying so.  (Still don't know what was said during the tucking in part of the day...)


I am hoping that both of these incidents that ended successfully will also lead to more success in the future.