April 14, 2011 ~ Day 126 Small Movements

Tonight at pilates therapy my instructor taught me about the importance of making small, controlled movements. "The movement is almost microscopic," she said, showing me how to position my rib cage, lower back and gluteals.

"Now imagine that your pelvis is a clock," she explained, "With 3:00 at your left hip bone and 9:00 at your right hip bone. I want you to very gently rotate your pelvis toward 3:00, but only about one inch. Then come to center and rotate it toward 9:00."

"How hard could it be?" I asked myself, and began to try.

As it turned out, a controlled one-inch movement to the left was supremely painful, and required a lot of instruction and assistance from my teacher.

"Wow... I must really be doing this wrong! It is incredibly difficult!"

"I know, it's surprising to everyone," she responded. "All of my clients have trouble making small controlled movements, especially at first. Everyone wants to do big thrusts, aerobic exercise, big cardio. They don't realize how powerful a small stabilizing motion can be."

"You just have to practice," she continued. "Slowly but surely, this will make you strong. One day, you will be in control of your body with the ability to exercise without injuring yourself."

I really, really liked the sound of that.

As I lay on the pilates therapy table breathing in and out, working on my gentle but awesomely difficult rotations from 3:00 to 9:00, it occurred to me that this idea of patiently practicing small controlled movements to build core strength might help to unwind the recent disaster of my afternoon at home.

Our eldest son felt healthy enough to return to school today, he was 3 days into his Zpack medicine. The nurse cleared him to attend, so we packed him a lunch and sent him on his merry way. He made it through the day with ease and his teacher declared that he barely coughed all day long and seemed extremely energetic.

"That's great news!"

We drove home and I gave all three children a protein based snack so that their blood sugar wouldn't crash before dinner time. Thinking that I might actually start cooking dinner right then, I encouraged them to go outside to play - handing them their bike helmets as they went down the back steps into the yard.

I watched them walk away with a special tenderness in my heart, thinking "Wow, we haven't had ANY fighting or major tantrums in almost two whole days. This natural consequences parenting strategy is a revelation!"

Curses on me for even thinking this (I didn't say it out loud, not wanting to tempt bad luck) because within minutes I heard a loud wail.

"Mooooommmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!"

Thinking my younger son might have fallen off his bicycle I went swiftly into the yard in time to catch the elder son hitting his little brother's orange bicycle over and over with a large stick as the little one tried to protect it.

"What are you doing?" I calmly asked the bigger boy.

Surprised, he looked up and then got upset that he'd been caught. "AWWWWWW MOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!"

"Are you hitting your brother's bicycle?" I asked. "Because the natural consequence for hurting his property would be for you to loan him your property. Maybe he should have a turn riding on your Spiderman bike."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Well this was your warning. If you hurt his bicycle like his again, you will be making it up to him by sharing your bicycle with him. End of story."

"I DON'T EVEN WANT TO RIDE A BICYCLE ANY MORE!!!" he screamed.

"Okay, that's fine. Just know that there will be a natural consequence for damaging his property, no matter what."

"UGGG!!!!!!" He stormed off to hide under our vast shady tree.

The younger son had dismounted his bicycle and was taking off his helmet. "I don't want to ride any more without my brother, mommy. I'm going to go find him to play now," he said.

Without thinking enough about it, I murmured - "That's nice, honey," and returned into our house.

Foolish, foolish woman. Foolish, foolish mommy. It should have been obvious to me what was coming next.

Within five minutes there arose a blood curdling scream much louder and more upset than the one before. My younger boy was calling for me at the top of his lungs, with the older one shouting "NO YOU DON'T! NO YOU DON'T TELL HER!!!"

I raced out to find the younger son red in the face, bathed in tears and clutching his head.

"What happened?"

The elder boy began to slink away. "No," I stated. "You stay here until I know what is going on."

"What happened?" I reiterated to the little one, who was still sobbing.

"HE PUSHED ME DOWN INTO THE DIRT. HE PUT HIS HANDS AROUND MY NECK. HE HIT ME IN THE HEAD AGAIN AND AGAIN."

Sure enough, there were marks around his little neck.

It took all of the restraint in my being to speak gently and calmly to the older boy. "It seems that the problem here is that your younger brother and sister are not safe if left alone with you at this moment. I think you must be very tired.

So there are two natural consequences. First, you will come with me into the house and take a little rest in your room so that you will not be tired any more. Second, you will help me think of something you can do to make your little brother feel safe around you and loved by you."

I took him by the hand and led him into the house.

When we reached his room, all hell broke loose - at least within his fragile, overwrought psyche.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" he shrieked, and then began to storm around the room, throwing things and yelling at the top of his lungs.


"When you are calm I will come back and we can talk about nice things you can do for your brother."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" He then launched into a tirade, of which I caught only about 1/3 of the words because he was screaming them so fast.

Sighing, I left to check on his brother and sister.

The tantrum turned out to be a mega-tantrum. Who knows, maybe he was testing my boundaries to find out if or when I would cave. I didn't. He yelled at the top of his lungs for thirty minutes straight. (I think he could be a great singer someday, the kid's got pipes!)

So there we were, the three of us - and I decided my goal was to make his brother and sister feel as safe as I could while he was yelling. So I pulled out some of our favorite home videos on the Flip camera and they cuddled with me on the couch and watched happier times... like Christmas Day at Grandma's house, Daddy hugging them, stories being read to them, the first day of school, etc. With one arm around each child, we hugged each other during those 30 minutes and focused on what was truly good about our family.

When my husband finally got home, the house had just fallen silent because our son had fallen to sleep on his bed, mid-scream. It was time for me to leave for pilates therapy and I won't lie - I was so grateful for the break.

As I drove to the studio I asked myself, "What went wrong? Why did the natural consequence explode on us this afternoon? What could I have done better?"

So I was really primed for the epiphany I got when my teacher began to talk about the power of practicing small, controlled movements over time and how transformative it can be.

For all of these years I have been hoping/looking for a magic bullet - something that we can change which will suddenly and magically make our children peaceful and loving toward each other. I'm looking for a fast fix, a strategy that will knock us on our ear with its excellence. I'm looking for BIG, AEROBIC MOVEMENT.

Maybe it doesn't work like that though.

Perhaps like with pilates, the shift required in our parenting is something much smaller. A microscopic movement... controlled, patient.

Practiced, again and again.

Maybe the movement I need to embrace and practice is simply that infinitesimal but real moment when I found that inner strength not to yell or get upset, when I dug deep and found a way to stay perfectly calm in the middle of their storm.

My job as the mommy may be to practice that tiny shift, over and over. Practice digging deep to stay calm - no matter *what* my kids do or what kind of natural consequence is merited. Even when there is violence involved on their part, I need to be the PARENT and stay calm.

My pilates therapist told me that if I continue to practice these small physical movements consistently and slowly, two years from now I will have built myself a new body.

Could it be that in that same time period, I can build myself a brand new parenting style? Develop a deeply rooted peacefulness surrounding how I mentor my children?

I guess only time will tell, but I'm firmly committed to sticking with this exercise.

April 12, 2011 ~ Day 124 Natural Consequences

Yesterday at our monthly play therapy appointment, my husband and I learned a parenting technique that many of our parent friends are probably already expert at - called Natural Consequences.

Its basic premise was new to us, although completely sensible.

Here is how we learned about it:

The therapist asked us to give her typical scenarios for how our children act out, and what we usually do as parents in those situations.

We were very open with her, and I was especially touched to see how humbly and honestly my husband approached the therapy session. "So here's an example," he confided. "This morning, while I was driving our boys to school, the older one was really harassing his little brother."

"How so?" she asked.

"Well, first off, he stole his brother's seatbelt while I was driving so that his brother was not properly belted into the carseat for the last two blocks of our drive. By the time I could pull over out of the line of traffic, we were already at the school. Then, as he was getting out of the car, he stepped ON his brother's hand - on purpose - and squished his little fingers."

"How did you react?"

"Well I was very frustrated with him. I took away his dessert."

"I think," replied the therapist kindly, "that dessert would be an appropriate thing to lose if one of your children was doing something inappropriate at the dinner table - say, throwing food. We (therapists) like to encourage the use of Natural Consequences. Choose a consequence that fits the actual problem that has occurred."

"Okay, then how *should* I have responded in that situation?"

"First off, in your mind what was the actual crime?"

"He hurt his brother. He disobeyed me while I was driving. He made the car unsafe for his family."

"Good. So, then the natural consequence to those things would be one that offers a solution to each of those problems. He hurt his brother... so perhaps a natural consequence would be asking him to do something kind or helpful for his brother. He didn't listen to you, so a natural consequence might be asking him to show that he knows how to listen to you... and in terms of safety, the natural consequence might be for him to do something positive to help make your home or car or family safer."

"Really?" frowned my bemused husband. "Won't he think that is sort of a treat? I think he would actually LOVE to be asked to do something nice for his brother, or to help our family. Isn't that like giving him a reward?"

"No, not if you think about it," she replied. "He took something away from your family unit -- time, energy, comfort -- and so the natural consequence for doing this would be to find him a way (or let him find a way) to give back positively to your family."

"Ok. Well... what would I say to him?"

"You could say, Son - you've hurt your brother and so it is your job to do something that will make him feel better this afternoon when you are home from school. Perhaps he could read his little brother a book."

"I don't know..." my husband responded. "I still feel like that would be rewarding him in some way."

"Well," I interjected... "Maybe it wouldn't be as much of a reward because it wasn't HIS idea to read to his brother, it was something he would have to do even if he didn't really want to do it. He would have to use his own time to give back, even if he'd rather do something else. Is that right?"

We decided to meditate on that idea and moved on to discussing other topics and strategies with the therapist. She was a true fount of information and gave us a lot to contemplate throughout the remainder of the session. I remain deeply grateful that we were lucky enough to find her with such ease. It is already clear that she is poised to do our family a world of good.

When we arrived home from the appointment I noticed right away how hard my husband was working to implement the strategies with our children that she had taught us in the session. He really made a special effort and I was both impressed and inspired to follow suit. We both really put our all into listening to them carefully, and repeating back to them what they had said to us so that they would know we were truly aware of their feelings.

After the kids went to bed, he and I discussed natural consequences and what a few of them might be for various common problems we face as parents.

Our eldest was feverish last evening and stayed home with me today to go to visit his pediatrician. He was just sick enough to feel lousy... but just healthy enough to be running around the house, silly and full of beans (then later, quite cranky). When I took him to the pediatrician at the end of the afternoon we learned that he has walking pneumonia, poor guy, which may explain a lot of his recent fussiness.

Unfortunately for me, that aforementioned cranky period in the early afternoon happened to coincide perfectly with the return of his little brother from preschool. Oh, joy.

Within moments of reunion, they were at it... squabbling and tattling. This time though, I was on top of things with a new strategy in my back pocket. It was time to implement some natural consequences.

"Mommmmeeeeee!" the little one called tearfully. "He pushed me off of my scooter and told me I can't ride it any more!"

Looking over at the big brother who was grinning sheepishly, standing on the scooter, I sighed internally.

"Honey, what is going on?" I asked.

"But I want to ride the scooter too!" he whined. "It's my scooter too."

"Wasn't your brother taking a turn first? Wouldn't it be more fair to take turns?"

"NO!!! I want to ride it by myself!!!"
His voice had grown loud, shrill and anxious.

Just when I was about to lecture him about having a tantrum, I remembered what to do.

"Little man," I addressed him gently, "You have taken your brother's scooter from him and made him feel very sad. The natural consequence to this action would be for you to figure out a way to make him feel happy. Can you do that?"

He scrunched up his face, but to my real surprise he did not cry or scream. "He can play with any of my toys..." he whimpered.

"What a GREAT idea!" I responded rapidly, before he could change his mind. Turning to the little brother: "Did you hear that? He said you could choose any of his toys to play with while he rides the scooter!"

The little one stopped crying. His pouty lip returned into its normal, non-pouting position. He lit up, a little. "Really?"

His older brother began to waffle. "Well, except for the ones I don't want you to play with..."

"No," I said calmly but firmly. "If you're going to play with his toy, it is fair that he can play with any of your toys. You were RIGHT honey! You came up with such a great solution to the problem! I am proud of you."

The little brother ventured into the house and returned with a huge smile on his face and his brother's Buzz Lightyear in his arms. "I'm going to play with BUZZ!" he shrieked gleefully.

"NOT MY BUZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!" cried the big brother. "I don't WANT him to play with my BUZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Well honey," I reminded him softly, "You took the scooter that he was riding away from him and then you came up with the very smart solution to make him feel better by letting him play with one of your toys. You did a good job - see how happy you've made him?"

"But is he going to play with my Buzz for SIXTY MILLION YEARS??????"

"No honey. He'll just play with it while you are on his scooter, because that is fair."

He looked left and right, then crumpled onto the pavement and began to sob. Big fat, crocodile tears. (We now know they were also Walking Pneumonia Feeling Lousy tears.) "BUT I DON'T WANT HIM TO PLAY WITH MY BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!" He lay on the sidewalk sobbing, bike helmet still on his head.

A little voice rang out. "Bwova?" It was their toddler sister - who worships her oldest brother - peeking her head out of the back door to see what all the hullabaloo was about. "Bwova eees saaadddd." (Brother? Brother is sad.)

"Oooooooh, oooooooh, po bwova." (Oh, oh, poor brother.) She scampered down the stairs and ran over to her brother, laying on the ground. She kissed his bike helmet, and then tried to get close to him to give him a hug on the ground. Finally she flung her little body onto his back and cuddled him. "Bwova, bwova." (Brother, brother.)

My younger son and I watched this heartwarming scene unfold. "Oh mommy," he said to me. "That is so sweet. She is being really nice to our brother." He put down the Buzz Lightyear doll and walked down the stairs and onto the pavement where his brother was still laying and sister was still trying to hug him. He went to the opposite side of his big brother and kissed him on the bike helmet too, then lay down on the ground and hugged him from the other side.

Amazed by the interaction taking place in front of me, my mother's heart turned to complete and total mush.

For a moment the three of them huddled there in a dogpile on the pavement of our driveway, his two little siblings - so often the targets of his rage - hugging and loving him back to happiness. Then spontaneously, they each got up and wandered off to do other things. Little sister decided to come and get her own bike helmet. Little brother came back to pick up Buzz Lightyear off the steps.

I watched my eldest son as he sat up, dusted himself off, and then stood up.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Ok I guess," he said, "I still don't feel that well."

"I'm sure you don't, honey. I'm so sorry. We'll see the doctor in an hour," I consoled him. "Honey did you see how nice that was? Your sister and brother were trying hard to make you feel better!"

He lit up a little. "I didn't SEE it, mommy!"

"Well, that is because you were laying on the ground... but I saw it, and it was adorable! Could you tell that your sister was trying to give you hugs and kisses to make you feel better?"

"I just felt something very heavy on my back," he said - but he was smiling widely.

"That heavy something was your sister!" I laughed. "She really loves you honey. So does your brother. We all do."

He brushed himself off a bit more, and then unlatched his helmet. "I'm done riding his scooter now," he said. "I'm tired mommy. I think I'll go rest on the couch. My brother can ride the scooter now if he wants to."

"That's really great. Thank you, I'll tell him!"

And that was it. The entire thing.

What would normally have ended with frustration, fighting between my sons or a 'time-out' for one or both of them turned into this really unexpected, beautiful moment between my three children where they spontaneously loved each other and treated each other with kindness - completely unaided by me.

I have rarely witnessed a display like this from any of them toward one another. In fact, I am emotional just writing about it. My children have good hearts! They are kind. I could cry from the overwhelming joy (and relief) of it all.

After only one day, I am completely sold on the theory of Natural Consequences. I used it thoughtfully and consistently all day and all night - even when they got tired and began to make poor choices again.

Every time an infraction occurred I asked out loud, calmly, "I wonder what the natural consequence for this would be?" and then I thought it through and gave them the reasoning for my consequence.

When the little son lied about eating his lunch and put his sandwich on his sister's plate, I decided that the natural consequences for those actions (lying, wasting food) would be to (a) Tell the truth about what happened to both his daddy and his grandmother; and (b) To eat that food for his next snack or meal.

Carefully I wrapped up his plate and let him go about his merry way, after explaining the consequence.

"We don't have a lot of extra money for food," I explained to him, "And you have wasted food here, so the natural consequence would simply be to have you eat it later in the day when you feel hungry." I offered to sautee his sandwich for his dinner, if that might be tastier. "BUT I DON'T LIKE IT!! I DON'T WANT IT!!!"

"I'm sure you don't and I'm sorry about that," I said kneeling at his eye level. "I hear you telling me that you don't like your sandwich and you don't want to eat it. But you did ask me to make it, and you told me what to put on the sandwich. So, the natural consequence of your action will be to eat it later for dinner or a snack, whichever comes first."

Long story short, about an hour later he came to me and said, "Mommy, I am hungry now. Can you please cook my sandwich?" Pleased and secretly amazed, I watched him scarf down the entire thing as we drove his brother to the doctor's office.

Natural Consequences seemed too easy, too generous when we first heard about it yesterday. My husband and I weren't sure how it would teach our children to make better choices in the future without giving some kind of minor punishment. The more I use this strategy though, the more I realize that it makes a ton of sense... not just to me, but to our kids as well. They can see its logic, so they are calmly following its guidelines. It is a disciplinary plan that treats children with respect.

I'm sure we'll have to refine and hone our co-parenting skills when it comes to using this (and other strategies). That said, I feel so hopeful, so encouraged. As it turns out, simple changes to our parenting style may just make all the difference in the world for the overall health and happiness of our family unit.

Babies don't come with instruction manuals and we've been winging it together for the past six years, doing the best that we knew how... trying to avoid the footsteps of our own parents who raised us in a day and age when spanking was common and I even got my mouth washed out with soap for sassing back. Those things won't work in today's world, nor would I wish to settle for hitting or hurting my children in order to try to teach them self discipline and respect for others.

It's really a joy and a blessing to learn from an educated, modern parent/therapist who knows the ropes, and can give us a hand when we're falling down. Things are really looking up!