Monthly Archives: April 2012

100 Kisses

My teen was home from college for her first short visit and I wanted to connect with her in a close way. I knew she was in the process of learning to be independent, and I wanted to respect her freedom and the personal growth she had achieved. I had read about giving 100 kisses to your child as a way to playfully connect and show her how much you love her.  So I thought I would try doing this.

My daughter was sitting on the couch and looked a little lost, being home for the first time. I snuck up behind her and kissed her forehead while counting to ten. She started to smile and said, “What the heck?” I told her I missed her so much that I had 100 kisses stored up for her and I was going to try to sneak all 100 in before she went back to college. I then gave her 10 more and said, “Whew, that is 20!” She started laughing and I could see her relax and start to settle into being home.

As the weekend progressed, I continued to surprise her with 10 kisses on the shoulder, 10 kisses on the hand, 10 kisses on the leg. I don’t think I ended up completing the whole 100 kisses, but it didn’t matter. What it did do was give me an opportunity to show her she was loved and missed. She was able to relax, and it gave us an opportunity to talk about how different her life was at college than at home.  She opened up about what her days were like, and what was happening with her friends and her classes.

Being playful helped me as much as it did her. I desperately wanted to make her feel comfortable being home, and didn’t know quite how. By being playful, I was able to tell her how much I loved her, get close to her and still respect her freedom. I played the “silly mom” role and was rewarded with laughter, closeness and respect.

Helping my Son’s Friend “Unroll” his Feelings

My 3-year old son and his slightly younger friend had a play date at our house. There was a bowl with a snack roll in it made of grains and fruit. Frank picked a muesli roll, as he was hungry. My son wanted to follow his lead and picked what happened to be the last oat roll.

At that moment, Frank decided that he wanted to have that oat roll and tried to grab it out of my son’s hand. My son escaped to the opposite side of the table. Frank got very upset and started a tantrum. I came to the table not knowing what had happened. I just observed that Frank was trying to get out of his mom’s lap in order to get across the table to secure the roll that was in my son’s hand. I asked, “Did he take your roll?” Frank continued to rage.  His mother said that that was actually not the case.

I decided to listen. Luckily, my son did not start eating his roll. We listened. Frank continued to rage. His mom and I reassured Frank that we were hearing what he wanted and that we would find a solution to the problem. Frank was so loudly expressing his emotions that we just got a reassuring sentence in about every 3 minutes or so. We mainly demonstrated our confidence with our facial expressions and with eye contact.

After about 10 minutes, Frank dragged his mom to my son and me on the other side of the table. My son was still holding his roll. His mom loosely bear-hugged Frank so that he could not grab the roll out of my son’s hand. She also did a wonderful job gently keeping him from touching her breasts, which Frank tends to do to distract himself from his emotions.

My son asked if he could eat the roll and I responded, “Please wait until Frank is finished and then we can discuss the best solution.” Frank was getting more and more into his rage. He sweated a lot, and was fighting with his entire body. His mom also started to cry and I put my hand on her back to express my support. I said to Frank, “It’s good that you want it,” and at some later point, “You might get it.” At some point my son offered Frank a bite of his roll. This made Frank even more upset. We kept listening. I again asked my son to please wait with eating the roll until Frank was done and we could all discuss the situation.

After about what seemed like almost half an hour, Frank slowed down and said that he wanted to talk about it. I asked him if he had a solution. He replied, “Yes, I want the roll.” I asked my son if that was okay with him, and he responded that it was not.  When I asked my son for his solution, he replied that he wanted to eat his roll by himself. I asked if I could make a suggestion, and Frank said no, but that his mom could. His mom suggested that they each could have a half a roll, but Frank did not want that.

Then I suggested that I could check in the kitchen if there were any additional oat rolls. Frank was okay with that idea. I went into the kitchen and came back with a few more muesli rolls but no more oat rolls. Frank said that he would pick one of the other muesli rolls. I double-checked with him if that meant that Luca could eat the oat roll, and Frank confirmed that that worked for him.

Frank and my son spent about 2 more hours after that incident together and had the best time playing together, resolving any upcoming conflicts between themselves without needing our assistance.  It was wonderful to observe.

-A Hand in Hand mother of two

Listening Our Way to Cooperation

There was a five-year-old boy in my Kindergarten group who had been giving little signs of distress for a few days, showing that he was not relaxed. He threw a few toys, hit a few children and showed misbehavior at circle time. He didn’t throw hard or hit hard, but I could feel he did not feel good.

One morning when we were in the corridor, dressing up to go outside, he started swirling his jacket around, hitting a few children by doing so. I took him back into our classroom and told him that we would sit down and wait until there was more room for us to put our coats on. I was actually using this situation to help him to work on his feelings. I was quite sure he wouldn’t like the idea of waiting, and he demonstrated that strongly by trying to run back into the corridor.

I held him back, telling him gently that we would soon go, when there was more room for us there, and he started to cry hard. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and he tried to run away. After five minutes, he kept on crying, but stopped trying to get away, now fully absorbed by the tensions he was working on. After another ten minutes, he cried more softly, and gently laid his head on my shoulder.

After a few more minutes, he was ready to go back into the corridor. As I opened the door to the corridor, we saw that the children’s shoes that had been left there had shed a lot of dirt, which was lying on the floor. He wanted to clean it all up and make everything look nice. He was smiling joyfully, dressing himself calmly, talking and being so very cooperative.

What a change! I was proud of him, and of myself. During the whole session, I never doubted that we would come to a happy end, and I was comfortable with listening to him the whole time. What a good morning!

–a mother of four and Kindergarten director in France.

Staylistening and the Twinkle Bug

My husband was putting my daughter to sleep at bedtime when she realized she had left her lovey, “Twinkle Bug,” at her girlfriend’s house after a sleepover.  She started to freak out, screaming, “I cannot go to sleep without her! I will never be able to sleep without Twinkle Bug!

My husband responded by offering solutions, “Is there another animal we could look for? To cuddle with?” “No! No! No,” she insisted. I knew that she could sleep without this bug so I moved in and just listened. She cried and cried about the bug, wishing she had remembered to bring it home, or that I had remembered to ask her friend’s mom to bring it to school.

“I will never be able to sleep without her,” she screamed again, kicking and thrashing and finally sobbing. I told her throughout her rage and sadness, “I know you can sleep without her. I know this is hard and I know you can sleep without her.”

When she seemed calm I sang the song that the bug sings quietly in her ear as she yawned and sighed and yawned and drifted off to sleep. I know that in the past, we have been harsher toward her and her feelings. “You never needed that bug to sleep before you noticed your friend had attachments to things that help her sleep. Why do you need it now? You don’t need it to sleep! You are tired.”

I am very happy to say that none of those things even crossed my mind until I reflected here while writing this down. The next night, my daughter still did not have her Twinkle Bug. I was thinking, “Oh no! Bad Mommy! Not again!” But my daughter just asked where the Rainbow Puppy was, then asked, “He was yours when you were little, right, Mom?” When I said “Yes,” she happily climbed in bed, tucked Rainbow Puppy under her arm and went to sleep easily.

It’s now a week later, and we still have not remembered to get Twinkle Bug from our friend! What’s more, she shared her problem and strategy with her teacher at school, proud that she had slept without the bug and happy to have Mommy’s Rainbow Puppy to sleep with.

–a parent in Louisville, Colorado

Listening in the Absence of Daddy

Last fall my husband had to go out of town for a few days for work. The day after he left, my two year-old son and I were sitting in the living room on the couch when it seemed to dawn on him all of a sudden that his dad was gone. He said, “I want daddy.” I told him his dad had to go away for a few days, but that he’d be back soon. He started to cry and repeated that he wanted his dad.

I said, “I’m sorry he’s not here. I know it’s hard when he goes away, but he’ll be back soon.” His crying became louder and he started to kick me. I put my hand on his legs gently and said, “I can’t let you kick me”.

At this point he started thrashing and yelling, “I don’t want you, I want daddy!” His tears became sobs and I could feel his body temperature rise. There was a wild look in his eyes that worried me. His tantrums were not usually this intense and I wondered how long it would last. He continued to cry as he yelled about the fact that he didn’t want me, he wanted his father.

I listened longer, even though I wondered if he was OK. Every now and then, I told him his father would be back soon. Eventually, the loud cries became quieter and his anger seemed to dissipate. He looked out of the living room window and noticed how the leaves on the trees were gently resting on the windowpanes. “Look at the trees, Mommy.” he said.

That evening we had a wonderful time together. He played happily on the kitchen floor as I made dinner. We ate together and talked about the day. My son enjoyed getting ready for bed and seemed to sleep well that night. I was amazed at how such a strong tantrum could result in such a lovely evening. The tantrum itself didn’t last more than about 10 or 15 minutes, but it cleared the way for a wonderful connection between my son and I over the next few days.

Turning Bathtime Tantrums Into Laughter and Cooperation

One evening my two year-old son seemed grouchy and irritable.  From the time that we arrived home from school, nothing was quite right.  He was unhappy with his snack, dinner was not what he wanted, and he was frustrated with his toys.  I decided to try some playlistening with him to ease the tension.

After dinner we were in the bathroom playing with water and he decided he wanted to pour a little water on my hair.  My son hates having his hair washed.  Each time we bring out the shampoo he trembles with fear and screams until the last bubble of soap is washed away.   So that evening I let him pour some water on my hair and I yelped in the process.  He thought this was very funny.  I followed his laughter and he continued to pour water on my head until my head was completely wet.  I screeched each time and said, “Oh no! I don’t want water on my head!”  He wanted to do it over and over again and he laughed each time.

Eventually, my head was soaked and I decided to dry my hair and get him ready for bed.  After we put his pajamas on, he was lying down on his bed and I decided to gently lay my head on his tummy and pretend that his stomach was my pillow.  I stretched out my arms and said, “Ahhh, this pillow is so comfortable!”  He thought this was hilarious.  I jumped up and said, “Ooops!  That wasn’t my pillow!  What was that?!  Oh, that was you!”  He asked me to do it again.  So once again, I stretched out my arms, yawned, and lay back on his tummy as though it was my pillow.  His stomach jiggled with laughter and I jumped up again wondering where my “real” pillow was.  He asked me to do this over and over again until the laughter died down.  After our playlistening sessions, it was easy to brush his teeth, and he wasn’t upset about turning out the lights as we snuggled into bed.

The next night when we were getting ready for bed he remembered laughing together the night before and he said, “The pillow Mommy, the pillow!”  He laughed a little less each time we did it, but it helped him get ready for bed several nights in a row.

Certified Instructor Julie Johnson has a limited number of seats in her Building Emotional Understanding class,beginning April 28. Reserve your seat today.

“No More Hitting!” Is What You Need

Dr. Laura Markham of Aha! Parenting

Does your child hit?  Do you find yourself hoping “Well, maybe he won’t hit today” as you get ready for a playgroup or playdate?  That’s natural, because most parents don’t know how to prevent the hitting — so all we can do is hope!

Finally, here’s what you need:  The No More Hitting Class from Patty Wipfler at Hand in Hand Parenting.  If you’ve been reading my newsletters for long, you know I’m a big fan of Patty’s.  I love her way of describing so clearly and simply what’s going on inside a child, and what the child needs from the parent to feel better, and act better.

In this new course, Patty takes you step by step through how to prevent hitting, and how to respond to it. If you’ve never heard of Hand in Hand, this course covers all the important ideas in the Hand in Hand program.  If you’ve had some experience with Hand in Hand, or you’ve been following my approach of helping your child express his tears and fears through giggling and crying, you’ll find this course a wonderful support for the hard work you’re already doing.

No time for a course?  Don’t worry.  This one is self-paced. You get three hours of  terrific videos, broken into manageable 15 minute nuggets of wisdom. Patty’s warmth comes right through as if she’s there talking directly with you. You also get handouts and charts to help you reflect on the ideas and really understand them.

The course is $79, but for those who joined us on the Emotional Regulation call, you can save $30. So if you’re considering this course, I want to assure you that the course is well worth it.  Not only will it stop your child’s hitting, but you’ll be creating a closer relationship with your child, and a more effective way of parenting for the years to come. Enter discount code “Regulation” at checkout.

If your child is hitting, you won’t find a better resource to stop the behavior, and help your child with the feelings that are driving it.  Highly recommended.

-Dr. Laura Markham, of Aha! Parenting

Food Fight! Helping My Picky Eater

Usually I do about ten minutes of special time with my three year-old son a couple of times a week.  Although ten minutes of special time always seems like such a short amount of time to do special time with a child, when I’m actually doing it with my son, I find myself waiting eagerly for the timer to sound.  Recently I decided to try thirty minutes.  

For his special time, my son decided that he wanted to have a snack, so I set the timer in the kitchen and we sat down at the table together to eat peanut butter crackers.   In the past, my son has thrown food when he is angry.  But during this special time, he seemed quite happy, and at one point decided it would be fun to throw a cracker on the floor.

He looked at me to get my approval.  I gave him the go- ahead and as he threw the cracker up in the air, I put a cloth napkin over my head and shrieked, “Yikes!  It’s raining peanut butter crackers!”  This got him to laugh and he proceeded to take another cracker carefully out of the bowl and throw it in the air.  Again, I put a cloth napkin up—a pretend umbrella—and said, “Wow!  It’s raining peanut butter crackers!”

I kept looking at the timer I had set on the stove.  I couldn’t believe that the first time I decided to do 30 minutes of special time with him, he chose to throw crackers around the kitchen!  He continued to throw his crackers one-by-one, slowly and methodically, and giggling with each throw.  I continued to put up the pretend umbrella and we had a big laugh after each toss.

Then, about 25 minutes into the session he looked across the table and saw a bowl of potstickers that had been left on the table from earlier in the evening.  He looked at me, his eyes grew big, and with pure excitement he said, “Raining potskickers!?”  I imagined greasy potskickers smeared across the kitchen floor and I hoped more than anything that the timer would sound.  It didn’t.  So I looked at him and said, “Sorry, we can’t throw the potstickers on the floor.”  Surprisingly he didn’t seem bothered by this.  He decided to eat them instead (I think he really was hungry) and we talked for a few minutes more until the timer went off.

At the end of special time I gave him a big hug and decided to sweep up the peanut butter crackers before we got ready for bed.  He wanted to help.  We had a lovely time sweeping together and eventually we got ready for bed.  He put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth, listened to the stories I read, and turned out the light without a fuss or complaint.

The next morning he woke up and said with a big smile on his face, “Mommy, remember it was raining peanut butter crackers?”  When we went to my mother’s house the next evening, he told her about the night it was raining crackers.

It felt great to be able to do a longer session of special time with him and to have just enough attention to let him throw his crackers around the room.  Maybe one day it will be potstickers.

Certified Instructor Julie Johnson has a limited number of seats in her Building Emotional Understanding class,beginning April 28. Reserve your seat today.

Why Every Parent Should Take “No More Hitting!”

One of my fondest wishes is that every parent might take a course from Patty Wipfler, my colleague and mentor, who founded Hand in Hand Parenting.  Now, that dream is a step closer, with the online course, “No More Hitting!”  Using this troubling behavior as the focus, Patty takes parents through a three-week program that conveys the essential elements of her approach:  Listening partnerships, special time, playlistening, and staylistening.  These are powerful and effective techniques, but Patty’s course is more than that. Patty understands that parents don’t need any more blame or criticism—we give ourselves enough.  So she offers something different:  inspiration, encouragement, validation, and empowerment, along with the tools to make a profound difference in our own lives and our children’s lives.

-Dr. Lawrence Cohen, author of Playful Parenting and The Art of Roughhousing. Join him for an upcoming teleseminar with Patty Wipfler, founder of Hand in Hand, “Don’t Turn Off The Light!” Helping Kids With Anxiety.

Weaning from Night Nursing: How We Made it Through the Night

The time had come to wean my healthy toddler from night nursing. He was down to just a couple of times of nursing at night, but it was still disruptive for all of us.  No one was sleeping well.

I had napped during the day and had mentioned to my son what the plan was. I was ready to begin that night.

When he awoke to nurse, I held him in my arms instead, and used Staylistening to care for him.  I said, “I’m sorry, Honey.  I love you, but no more nursing tonight.  ”

He cried out his anguish and longing.  I held him and listened. “I’m right here. I love you. I am changing things, you’re right. I know it’s hard.”  I said. I held him and walked with him while he sobbed his little heart out.  It was heartbreaking.

He seemed confused and almost panicky. I held him and walked with him.  “It’s a very big change for us.  I’m right here. Right here with you. We’ll nurse tomorrow, but not tonight. I love you.  We’re ok.”  I told him.

His cries went on and on into the night.  We were up and down.  Asleep, then awake again. He became desperate.  He panicked. He mourned. He seemed so confused. His crying felt almost unbearable at times.  I felt scared.  It seemed to never end.  I felt so powerful and that scared me, too. But I was determined to offer my power in the form of confidence.

I had grappled deeply with the awesome power to give or withhold the most primitive, basic longing of a child—to connect through nursing.

During the 3-4am awake time, I was reassuring both him and myself, “We’ll make it through this sad time together.  I’m sorry this is so hard.  I love you so much. You are just right, and I am right here with you.”  I told him.

These nights felt endless.  They were hard, hard work.  The fatigue made the grief heavier, and vice versa. We were both sad to say goodbye to this time in our relationship.

We had three or four nights of heavy crying and sleeplessness.  I kept listening and continued offering confident reassurance.  I would never have asked him to go through it alone.  Even though I held him, and we walked, and slept together and stayed close in other ways, I worried that I was a bad mom by withholding myself physically.

I talked about my feelings with my husband during the days.  I cried hard.  I talked about how scary it is to feel so powerful.  “I have the power to hurt him. I have the power to give or withhold. I hope this isn’t hurting him. I don’t know if we’ll be OK. Am I a sadistic person by stopping nursing and being the cause of these intense feelings of despair for him?”  I asked my husband.

By talking with my husband during the days, I realized that I felt conflicted about how much power I’d felt in my relationship with my own mother, as a child.  I had been given too much power to make her feel better or worse, and that job was very confusing and overwhelming as a child.

After those conversations, I felt better about continuing to wean.  I still have some lingering regrets about how sad and anxious I felt about weaning by kids.  If I had felt more solid and secure within myself, I’m sure it would have been easier on my son during those long nights of weaning.  The fact that I wasn’t able to feel calmer and more confident must have made it harder for him to get through it.   But we made it.

We felt very close during the days that followed the nighttime weaning, and we feel close now.  We connected and bonded deeply through those nights.  We went through that mourning process together and enjoy a deep and honest connection to this day.

Join Beth Ohanneson in her upcoming class, beginning April 13.