This Clown Dancer is Your Mother!

I know that you are awake, over there in your room. You always hear the loud beep of your older brother's alarm clock. Your brother, he sleeps through his alarm on a daily basis, but not you. You don't need your own clock, not when your eyes pop open with the slightest sound from your brother's room. I wake up your brother and get him started on his morning path to his favorite cereal and TV- get dressed, put on socks and shoes, brush teeth...

I head into your room, my heart light. Today is going to be a good day!

As I round the corner of your huge bunk bed I see you are awake, squirming under the heavy gray blanket that you outright stole from your daddy. You are hiding, but I know you are there, I can hear you giggling. "Where is Alex?", I ask, in a sing song voice. "Come on out, baby!".

After five minutes of cajoling I finally get you to crawl out from under the covers and we start the slow dance of getting you dressed. I give you two shirts to choose from, knowing if I make the choice you may freak out. Today you want a third shirt in the mix so I pull another one out. You wander over to your window. I leave the shirts and pants on your bed and stand up. "Go ahead and get dressed, kiddo. I will be back in a minute." You scream. I turn around and sit back down. We play the "pick a shirt game" a few more times. Then we play the "pick a pair of pants game". My Super Six Year Old wanders in, asking what is taking so long. I point in your direction. "Oh, right."

I send you out in the hallway to go downstairs. You take three steps and stop, screaming at your loudest.  "Alex, the dog is not in your way! Just walk, please?".  I turn to my oldest son. "Please take the dog downstairs." The three of us proceed to tango through the hallway and down the steps, puppy underfoot and you screaming the entire way. Our feet hit the floor at the bottom and the four little feet head to the left, heading straight for the living room, toys, and the almighty TV. My feet turn right. I turn up the heat, walk through the kitchen, turning on the coffee maker, and head to the garage door, turning off the alarm. I walk to the back door, bracing myself against the cold as I shoo the puppy out to the backyard. "Shoes on!", I call out to you and your brother, both of you now in various stages of chaos in the living room. "Shoes on before TV!".

I stand in the kitchen drinking coffee that is too hot while both of you sit nicely, watching TV. Eventually the bliss is broken and I set my hot coffee on the counter with a sigh. I pull you off of your brother and sit you on the other sofa. After asking you repeatedly to get your shoes I gather them up myself and toss them in your direction. "Put your shoes on, kiddo!", I say, in a much happier tone than I am actually feeling. I make it a contest- which boy can put their shoes on the fastest? You lose. You scream. I sit you on the kitchen counter and put your shoes on. I give you a kiss and set you back down on the floor. I repeat the shoe game, only this time with your coat, hat, and backpack. I do my clown dance, my happy contests, my distraction techniques. Eventually both you and your brother are in coats and backpacks are on. I place my hand on the door, holding my breath. Can we make it out the door before any more demands come my way?

"I didn't have breakfast!" . "I want milk!". The demands continue. I weigh my options. Give in to your demands, make us late, or pick you up and carry you to the car, which will have long lasting repercussions. Be late, or spend the entire ride dodging shoes and listening to a screaming child. Sadly, I know I will not take the brunt of your  anger in the car- your older brother is the one trapped back there with you. Either option just sucks. Some days I choose to be late. Others I choose to take a stand and just push ahead. 99 percent of the time we are a screaming mess by the time we back out of the driveway.

I do my clown dance again to get you to get out of your car seat and back into your winter coat. More often than not you wind up laying on your back on the floor of the car, laughing hysterically. You think this move is hilarious. I do not. We make a game of getting in to daycare. We check the lunch menu and make a pit stop- we absolutely cannot mess with your routines! We find your classroom and I hand you off to the teacher. I peel you from my leg, turn you around, and deposit you into the arms of the waiting teacher. A quick kiss and then I walk, maybe a little too quickly, out the door. I can breath again.

I don't do my clown dance for anyone else during the day. Cashiers, phone operators, the UPS guy- these hardworking people do not get the best of me. Sometimes, not even my husband or oldest son get the best of me. And certainly, on most days, I do not get the best of me. I save it all for the clown dance. For the cajoling, the bartering, the distracting that it takes to keep you moving through your day. I'm not going to lie to you, little one. It is hard work. It is exhausting work. Worthwhile, but exhausting.

Nine hours pass. Maybe ten. Sometimes I pick you up early. Sometimes I could pick you up early but I don't. Sometimes I sit in the car, watching the dashboard clock click off the minutes. Sometimes. Always I feel guilty about this.

I turn into the parking spot in the daycare parking lot and remove the key from the ignition. I take a deep breath. My first stop is the big kid room to pick up my big kid. He takes his time putting his homework or toys away in his backpack. He asks me his every day question and I answer with my stock answer. "Yes, you have to wear your coat. It is cold outside." I help him push his backpack up onto his small shoulders and we walk down the hall to your classroom. "Alex!", I call out. You are sitting on the floor, reading a book. I marvel at this. You are sitting in a group of other children, who are also sitting. You are carefully turning the pages, taking in each picture. You are completing an independent activity! You are not ripping the pages of the books or throwing them around the room. Well, at least not yet. You look up, see me, and a huge smile spreads across your face. You stand up, throw the book at a classmate, and take off,  running around the room. I refuse to run after you. I want to. I want to run to you, grab you, stuff you under my arm and carry you out of there like a football. I want to ask you why you were sitting so still? Why were you reading a book? Why you run from me? But I know you will not answer. And I am all about not making a scene in front of the daycare teachers. (In front of my sister, yes. Teachers, no.)

Eventually you run past me and I grab you. I practically run to the door with you, calling over my shoulder to your brother to grab your belongings. We. Have. To. Get. Out. Of. This. Room.

I clown dance you into your coat. I clown dance you into the car. Past the front desk with the sticker box. Past the gum ball machine. Past the key pad on the door. I clown dance you out of your winter coat and into your car seat. I clown dance you into the buckle. I remove your shoes, sometimes, if I sense you will go over the edge during the drive.

I clown dance all  the way home. Distract. Deflect. Maybe, just maybe, I try to sneak in a real conversation with your brother. Usually you talk at your loudest the entire drive, making this conversation frustratingly pointless. Sometimes I try to sneak in a little teaching, or a little real conversation with you. You don't respond to my questions. You don't respond to my sentences with a sentence of your own that makes sense. You are frequently incapable of holding a conversation. But you love the clown dance.

I clown dance you into the house. Into the bathroom. Out of your shoes and coat. And then our evening begins. Homework, dinner, clean up, play time, TV time, bath, bedtime. I break up fights. I redirect. I dole out time outs. I give up on cleaning up. I give up on play time. I clown dance the medication down your throat. I clown dance your jammies on. I attempt to read you a book as you roll around your bed. You interrupt me a thousand times while I read. I offer you the page and attempt to ask questions about the book. I close the book. You scream. I clown dance a little more. My clown dance is slowing down. I am tired. I barter to get you to stay in your bed. I take away privileges when you follow me out of your room. Sometimes I yell. I don't mean to yell at you, my sweet little guy. A part of me understands that you can't help this. But, sometimes, I can't help my reactions either.

When my clown dance is finally over for the day I still have your brother's needs to meet. More snuggle time, homework, playtime, snacks, bedtime. More of me that is needed. More of me that I want to give. More of me that is not always available to give. But at least the clown dance has been put to bed for another night.

The next day dawns early and I head into your room, my heart light. Today is going to be a good day!

And if it isn't, if the clown dance doesn't work, if the clown dance is literally all you and I do today, that is OK too. We will have yet another chance the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. And I am hoping that one day your mixed up mind will figure that out. That we will always have another day. Because maybe, just maybe, when your brain truly believes that, we can put this clown dance to bed and really get to know each other. I so desperately want to be more than your clown, dancing you through care giving and through your day. Being your clown is exhausting. Being your mother, truly being your mother, is also exhausting, I would imagine. I want to stop imagining. This clown is your mother, little one. Let me me your mother.

Positive Parenting- Day 1- a smooth morning for all

Day 1 of Positive Parenting. Don't worry, I don't plan to post every day! But this morning was, wait for it.... AWESOME!  We don't have major problems around here discipline wise but mornings have not been going well since we added the tiny toddler to the mix. Prior to our return from Russia my big five year old pretty much had me to himself every morning. Once he started having to share me he became a loud whining time sucking machine. (But he is my loud whining time sucking machine and I love him!)

So yesterday I listened to the online class on morning routines. Most of Amy's suggestions and techniques we were already using but I still found myself nagging and reminding constantly. My frustration would start to show, which would wind up the tiny toddler and increase the whining in the five year old. Every morning my big five year old would:

• whine about having to get out bed
• need help getting dressed
• need help putting on his shoes and socks
• whine about having to brush his teeth before watching TV
• whine about having to eat breakfast before watching TV
• tell me "nothing sounds good" for breakfast and whine about that for a while
• stomp around at least  twice a morning
• cry at least twice a week

And every morning the tiny toddler would:

• ask for a specific food item and then scream when it was handed to him
• take shoes off and throw them
• whine

And every morning my sweet husband and I would:

• let our frustration show in our body language and voices
• not have any time to really talk
• not get to sit at the table together (this is VERY important to both of us.)
• get annoyed with each other when the boys weren't ready to go on time
• often apologize to each other over the phone when my sweet husband would call from his office to tell me the boys got into school OK.

Basically, the job got done. Everyone got dressed, fed, and out the door. But it certainly wasn't pleasant and it often didn't set the tone I want to start my family's day. So I started the online class and was reminded of something. Prior to the tiny toddler coming home my big five year old and I would often have enough time in the morning to snuggle on the sofa, first thing. Now if you know me well you know that both of my boys get a lot of one on one time with Mommy. We have been having Mommy & Matthew time for years, and now we have Alex & Mommy time too. But even with all of this one on one time it was clear that my big five year old felt like he was missing something. After reviewing the obvious culprit I determined that my kids were getting enough sleep at night. The tiny toddler is getting between 10 and 10 1/2 hours of sleep a night and the big five year old gets about 9 1/2 hours of sleep every night. They both still nap for two hours every day at school. So they are well rested.

Today I set my alarm for 20 minutes early, dragged myself out of bed and headed to the big five year old's room. I woke him up and asked him if he wanted to snuggle and read a few books before we woke up his little brother. The smile on his sleepy little face was enough to power me through the rest of my day! We sat down in his big chair and I explained that we were having some Matthew & Mommy time and after that he would need to finish all of his morning tasks before we watched TV. Then it happened.

We read one book and he jumped down off my lap and said, "If I get dressed now can we still read the other book?" With only a little help he got dressed and we read another book. He then asked if he could watch TV because he was dressed. I reminded him that he had to eat breakfast, put on his socks and shoes and brush his teeth first. He then ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth while I got his little brother out of the crib. By the time I had the tiny toddler half dressed he showed up in the room telling me he was going downstairs to get his shoes so that he could put them on now and be "even more ready". My big five year NEVER goes downstairs by himself if the lights are off- NEVER. But this morning he did. By the time I had his brother dressed he was back upstairs, socks and shoes on. He put them on all by himself. Which doesn't sound like much but is HUGE in my world.

He decided on his breakfast before we even got to the kitchen and I was super surprised when the three of us arrived downstairs to see that we were actually ahead of schedule. Both boys sat at the table, ate breakfast and then moved their show to the living room for more TV time than they usually have time to watch. No whining. No reminders. No crying. No stomping around. No tense husband/wife moments.

We even  had enough time to dance around the living room for a few minutes before "packing the car" - what my sweet husband calls loading the boys into the car.

So here's the thing. I am a well trained sales professional and I am good at my job. I know that there are certain ways to say things to a client to help you get the "Yes" response you want. I would never talk to my clients the way I sometimes talk to my boys. Even when I had a large number of associates reporting to me I would never have managed them by ordering them around and nagging. So why was I doing this with my boys?

Two simple changes- 10 minutes of Mommy & Matthew time at the time of day my son needs it most and a change from nagging to "when/then" statements and our morning was a breeze!

welcome to my adventures in positive parenting!

I think my sweet husband and I are pretty good parents. We roll with the total chaos and try very hard to enjoy every moment of it. Personally, I don't mind the little things. My boys can splash water out of the tub. They can race their very loud trucks around the circle of our downstairs while my sweet husband and I sit at the kitchen table, right on the race track, trying to finish dinner. They can rummage through the junk drawer looking for my Bert's Bees to feed their growing lip balm addiction. My big five year can use his "super powers" to climb up onto the kitchen counter and help himself, and his brother, to candy, or a cookie, or a banana. We change diapers on the sofa and the floor. We change diapers in the way back of our Equinator. (Our Equinox- best. car. ever.) I have even changed diapers on the concrete floor of airport bathrooms in both Hong Kong and South Korea. They can litter the backyard with toys and pick out their own clothes, which means sometimes the big five year old looks as though he was dressed by Helen Keller. Truth be told, I am pretty proud of the way we let our boys be themselves. Family over perfection~ that's my motto.

That all being said, however, there are still countless times that I find myself totally exhausted from the nagging and bargaining it takes to keep this family moving. I hate hate hate giving consequences. Can't we all just get along?

So, take the need to lose the nagging and throw in the behavior issues our tiny toddler presents us with on a daily basis and it was pretty clear- we are good at this parenting thing but we could be better. We needed help!

Which prompted a search of parenting styles/classes that fit our family and our specific needs. As an adoptive parent there is no question that some of my parenting techniques must reflect the special needs adoption brings to the table.  I started with Beyond Consequences because I was hearing a lot about this approach from my Families With Children From China Friends. And it seemed like a good system, albeit maybe a tad pricey. I have heard nothing but good things about the techniques used through Beyond Consequences. This program was created by an adoptive mother who truly understands attachment issues and how early life trauma can lead to very severe behavior problems that affect the entire family. Which is exactly what we were facing, but still, the program sounded a tad too severe for us. We don't have violence in the home, we don't have totally unmanageable children. Now, we might, one day, if we don't get a handle on all this now, have those major problems, but right now our issues are not that drastic and I am not ready to label our family in that way. So I kept looking.

Then I found Positive Parenting Solutions. Yesterday I participated in a free online seminar with this organization and I learned a few things. First of all, I learned that I am not alone. In fact, I learned that there are families out there with far more serious behavior problems than what my two little guys throw at me. I also learned that we need to get a handle on this now, before my boys grow into teenagers. I learned that I was doing a lot right, which was unexpected and very cool. I learned that you don't need to have kids with major behavior issues to want to have a calmer more loving household. I walked away from that seminar more excited about parenting than I have been in a long time. So I jumped in with both feet and signed up for the online classes and resources. I began using just one of the techniques I learned about yesterday with my big five year old during our visit to the library and we managed to have a perfectly pleasant library visit, complete with kiddy computer time, a game of checkers, and books checked out, all with no whining when it was time to end each activity. Score!

Tomorrow morning I plan to start using a few techniques to make our morning routine run a tad more smoothly. Does it make me a nerd that I am so excited about this?  And in my true fashion, I plan to blog about it all the way. What worked, what didn't, what changed my life. So stay tuned, my adventures in positive parenting are just beginning!