Monthly Archives: August 2011

Lessons Through Limits

Something happened this morning that I thought unfolded in an interesting way. I overheard my oldest son asking his brother if he would switch backpacks with him “for the whole year”.

As innocent as this sounds, alarms went off in my head. The two of them had just had a conflict yesterday stemming from a baseball card trade in which not all information had been disclosed to both parties. And, more importantly (since I think we made it through that battle alive and smarter), my oldest son REALLY wanted that Yankees backpack for school. Why would he want to trade it? My middle son is not as into baseball, and he probably would have traded his A’s backpack, both because he’s kind of an every-team fan, and because he has a tendency to want to make life easier for his brother (that for another blog post!).

Without thinking too much about it, I walked into the room and said, kindly but firmly, “No, you may not trade backpacks.” As you might imagine, I was interrogated… and yelled at.

“Why not? I didn’t even want that backpack! YOU told me to get it. Don’t you remember!!!” Hmmm. In fact he was right. He had asked me whether he thought he should get a Yankees backpack or an A’s or Giant’s one (our local teams), and I did say I thought he’d be happier with the Yankees pack, since he’s a real fan. He knows the current and past players and the paths they took to get on the team. He knows their stats…and their birthdays.

I asked my oldest if “something had happened”. He said it had, and tears started streaming down his cheeks. I asked what had happened, and as he cried, he recounted the story of a couple of boys in his class who had thrown his backpack onto the ground, saying that they hated the Yankees. I assured him that it was these boys’ actions that needed to be addressed, not his backpack. He perked up.

I said, “Listen. You get to be you with all that that means, and you get to stand up for what you believe.” True, some of us (though not all) may think that baseball loyalties are trivial, but he will undoubtedly find himself in many situations in which he likes something or believes in something different from the crowd, and I want him to know that that’s okay. As the tears subsided, he listened intently as I explained that teasing about choices we make (whether they are the team we root for or the hairstyle we choose) is as unacceptable as teasing about things like someone wearing glasses or being overweight.

I suggested that if he wanted to, he could approach his friends and let them know that he doesn’t like them taking his backpack and teasing him about liking the Yankees, and he could remind them that they can be friends and like different sports teams. I told him that if he needed more help with the situation, he could ask his teacher, or come back to me.

When I dropped him off at school, he said to me, “I don’t want to do it.”

I said, “You don’t have to. Do it if you want, and let me know if you need help. Have a great day. I love you.” He walked into the classroom, and before I left, was already chatting with one of the “Yankee-hating” boys.

I haven’t picked him up yet, so I don’t know how it all played out. My guess is that it didn’t come up again. Whatever happened, I’m grateful that I was aware enough to set a limit that offered my son the opportunity to offload some feelings, and me a teachable moment.

~ Tosha Schore, Certified Parenting by Connection Instructor
Tosha teaches a special Building Emotional Understanding class for parents of boys starting September 12th

Five Minutes Makes a Difference

special time in the mornings can make for a great day!

I’ve known for an embarrassingly long period of time that our days would be sooo much better if I could find a way to have special time with my oldest son first thing in the morning. It’s been a challenge because my husband leaves early and I’m on my own with three boys, rushing to get them all ready for their days. Oh yeah, and I have  to get myself ready as well!  In addition, my boys don’t generally wake up on their own either so I always have to get them up.

A few days ago, my oldest son woke up on his own and before his brothers. I was in the shower when he barged in and yelled, “YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP!” I said, “Good morning!” with a big smile on my face. “YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP!” he accused me yet again. I said, “I’m just in the shower, and I was going to let you sleep and wake you when I was out.” “NO! LAST NIGHT! YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP WHEN YOU GOT HOME!” Ahhh! Now I got it. He was upset because I hadn’t woken him up, as I had promised I would, when I got home late the night before. He always asks me to wake him up when I get home, if I’m not there when he goes to sleep. Though I promise to, I generally just give him a kiss and tell him I’m home. Very rarely does he wake up. So, now I at least knew what he was talking about – yelling about, rather.

Somewhere inside me I mustered up some patience and a relaxed tone, and said, “How about we do five minutes of ST [special time] before your brothers wake up?” He stopped for a moment and then started whining and yelling at me about how you couldn’t do anything in five minutes. I repeated my offer with the same relaxed tone. He calmed down and took me up on it. I said, “If you can very quietly sneak back into your room and get yourself dressed without waking up your brothers, I’ll go get dressed as well, and I’ll meet you in the living room for five minutes of ST before your brothers wake up.” By now he was getting into it. He had a smile on his face, and he snuck into his room very quietly and got dressed without waking anyone. When we met in the living room, I set the timer for five minutes and said, “OK, let’s do special time!” and I pressed the “start” button. He immediately started yelling at me not to start yet because we hadn’t figured out what we were doing. I said calmly, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something soon.” He whined for about 30 seconds and then said, “Let’s make Topps Attack cards!” I agreed, and asked what we needed. He instructed me to bring paper and scissors and a specific kind of marker. Then told me how to cut the paper, and we each worked on a card. He did Babe Ruth, and I did Cy Young. He told me what to write and where, and he drew my picture of Cy Young because we agreed that he would do a much better job. I must admit that when we started the five minutes, it really did seem like we wouldn’t have time for anything, but in the end we had produced two baseball cards and one much more connected kid! It was fabulous!

The rest of the morning went so much more smoothly than normal. I didn’t have to ask him multiple times to brush his teeth, get his backpack, etc. He was cooperative and even kind to his brothers. Even that evening he was more easygoing and, most amazingly, said “Thank you!” to his father at least once. For him, this is HUGE. I haven’t made another morning ST work yet, but I now realize how little time it really takes, which makes the goal seem more attainable.

~ Tosha Schore, Certified Parenting by Connection Instructor
Tosha teaches a special Building Emotional Understanding class for parents of boys starting September 12th

Staylistening and Playground Politics

Antics on the playground can lead to solid cries at home

One afternoon when I was picking up my 1st grader from school, his friends told me he had a bad day.  According to them, he was tripped many times in PE and got excluded in the playground as he “bended” the rule and received, “You are fired!” from others.

I talked about my feelings about this with my listening partners as I was bullied at his age.

My son was certainly cranky the last 10 days or so.  I talked with his teachers and my husband about it.  I gathered information from other parents too.  His teacher dismissed it, said it was nothing.

A couple of days after his friends told me he had a bad day, My son was speaking harshly to his little brother.  I went in and reminded him that we would want to speak kindly to each other.  Instantly, he went into a big struggle and crying.

I harnessed him, reflecting inside if I had the right mind to do this.  My Listening Partnership earlier really helped, as I now had more attention available.

I hoped I was doing the right thing even though I was worried if someone were to come in and see us, that they might think I was hurting him.

I made sure he was safe, safe from furniture, safe from me, and safe from himself.  I spoke to him, “I want to hear more about what happened today.”  More thrashing.  ”You can say I can play by the rule, let’s do that again!”  I almost got hit and kicked really hard.  ”I know you are a good boy.”  More screaming and intense feelings.  Then he stopped crying and thrashing, coming into my arms sweetly.

This was all while I had to be cooking dinner.  Rice and curry turned out to be a bit chewy as I couldn’t attend the stove.  However, my son ate a lot and he was in a good mood.  He was relaxed, sweet and cuddly all evening.  He would give me small presents and even offered me a massage going to sleep, even though he is the one who normally gets one.

My son didn’t share much about school events verbally.  What he shared with us grownups was that he actually liked what happened to him.  His body language seemed to tell me otherwise, but his teacher saw nothing problematic.

When I paid attention to him, his tone of voice, body language, and his mood, it told me something else.  His daily crankiness and his friend’s story gave me a small clue to what may be bothering him.

I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that he was a good boy, that he could be himself and still find a place in this world and change the world.  I am glad I now can convey that, instead of having just another cranky child receiving a lecture, a time-out or a yell if I hadn’t known better.  I am grateful that my son and I feel closer at the same time he feels more relaxed and confident.

—Keiko Sato-Perry, Certified Parenting by Connection Instructor

Keiko Sato-Perry

Join Keiko in her upcoming Building Emotional Understanding online class starting April 22.  Register now!

Listen to a podcast of a recent teleseminar “Parenting: Going Deeper”, in which Keiko presented.

You can read more of Keiko’s stories here and learn more about Parenting by Connection in the Listening to Children booklet set.

Hair Washing Glee!

bathtime can be a great time for playlistening

When my son was about 21 months old, he started to hate having water poured over his head when I washed his hair in the bath. He would scream and scream every time, even when I was meticulously careful not to get any suds or water in his eyes.

After a few weeks of this battle, I remembered what Patty told us about Playlistening. One night, during his bath, but before washing his hair, I took the special hair-washing cup and (discreetly making sure it was empty first!) held it upside down over my head. I shrieked, pretended to cry, and shook my head back and forth. My son howled with laughter!

He kept handing me the cup over and over again with a big smile on his face, and he laughed uproariously as I feigned intense distress. In between mock cup-pourings, I would smile at him to let him know I was okay. Gradually my hair got wet from the traces of water in the cup, and he was fascinated to touch my wet hair and rub the top of my head, which was now quite wet.

Later in the bath, when I washed his hair, he clearly did not enjoy it much, but he sat still and did not actually scream. Over the course of the next week or so, I always preceded washing his hair with play-washing mine, complete with loud shrieks and cries. He continued to laugh with abandon, and touch my wet hair with fascination. Now he has taken control of the cup, and insists on being the one to hold it over my head! It took three or four baths, but now he does not object to his hair being washed. In fact, what was once a torture session for both of us, is now one of his most gleeful games. In the evening when I say, “bath time!” he runs into the bathroom to get the cup, and runs over to me with it, laughing and holding it out to me!

- A mother in Pacifica, California