Good Words

"I'm frustrated because you won't stop bothering me and I've asked you THREE times!"

We were driving from the second mattress store of the day to the third when Emma said this to Mouse. Obviously, the two weren't getting along but what I was hearing gave me pause, in a positive sense. Emma's voice was firm, not whiny, and she was speaking to her sister, not complaining to me.

"Good words, Emma," I said.

In the back seat Emma's frown relaxed, validation smoothing the creases. Mouse, on her part, backed off and peace settled over the valley... for about five minutes.

How often do we ask kids to stop fighting without teaching them how to negotiate? Likely too often, and I am no innocent in this. It's far easier to fire off rules like 'no hitting' than it is to delve into why a child felt compelled to slug her best friend. Emma and Mouse argue. They've even been known to push, pull, snatch, scratch, and bite when the spirit moves them. But they are also being taught to negotiate and, given enough reinforcement, will eventually gain independence--I hope. So far the trend looks good. You be the judge.

That's Mine, This is Yours:

A Play in Infinite Acts

(for our purposes I'll keep it to two)

Act 1: Let's Share

Scene 1

EMMA, age 3; MOUSE, age 1. EMMA is playing with toy blocks. She puts one down while searching for another of a different colour. When she reaches back for it she sees MOUSE has picked it up.

EMMA: Hey!

EMMA snatches the block from MOUSE. MOUSE howls.

When that doesn't work she bites EMMA on the leg. EMMA howls.

Scene 2

Hours later...

EMMA is playing blocks again. MOUSE joins her. EMMA quickly moves the blocks out of reach.

MIGHTY MOM: Mouse, do you want to play blocks, too?
MOUSE nods.
MOM: Say, 'Emma, can I play, too?'

MOUSE: (to EMMA) Me, too?

EMMA gives MOUSE three of at least a hundred blocks. MOUSE is happy.

MOM: (to MOUSE) Say thank you.

MOUSE: Tanko.

EMMA: You're welcome.

Act 2: My Turn

Scene 1

EMMA, age 5; MOUSE, age 3.

EMMA enters the kitchen from outside.

EMMA: Mouse won't let me play on the swing.(Rough translation: Make Mouse give me a turn before I clock her one.)
MOM: She's allowed to have a turn, Emma.
EMMA: But she's not even swinging. She's using it for Pink Bear's bed.
MOM: How about we put on the timer for five minutes. When it goes off, it will be your turn.
EMMA: Okay.
EMMA walks back into the yard with the timer in hand. When it finally goes off, neither girl nor bear is using the swing.

Scene 2

Later that day, in the bathroom, after the bath.

MOUSE is combing her hair — poorly.

EMMA is still in the tub.

MOM: (reaching for the comb) How about you give Mommy a turn, chickadee?
MOUSE: (turning away) No. Me do it.
MOM: You've done it long enough. It's Mommy's turn now.
MOUSE: NO!
EMMA: Maybe you should get the timer, Mommy. I think it's by the slide.

Check-in

We were heading out on a short road trip in just a few hours. So to circumvent any last minute packing offenses, I called the girls to the kitchen table so we could compose a list of all needed items for a two-night excursion. Emma the Brave, then seven, spoke up first.

"We'll need pajamas and two day-time outfits."

"And toys," added Mouse.

I reminded them that daytime outfits must include socks and underwear and gave Mouse a knowing look. She giggled. "What else?"

"A night light." This was Emma.

"And toys," said Mouse.

With a little coaching they finally rattled off such inessentials like toothbrushes and toothpaste, dog food and bowls, toques, scarves, gloves, water bottles and rain gear.

"But then we won't have room for any toys!" Mouse cried.

"We'll see," I assured her, then sent them off to pack--or, rather, repack.

Ten minutes later the pair arrived at check-in, conveniently located in the kitchen. Emma was first, wheeling her Winnie the Pooh suitcase to the spot on the floor in front of me. In the crook of her arm she carried her one permitted carry-on--her favourite stuffed bear. Quick inspection revealed everything was in order. Not only had she managed to include all required items, but also a blanket, two notebooks, a pen, and four small soft toys. Next up was Mouse.

Immediately I sensed trouble. Mouse's suitcase bulged so much that Piglet's stomach looked like something out of Alien. To make matters worse, over its handle were three small hand bags, all stuffed to capacity. Without a word, I broke out the list.

"Pajamas? Check. Two day-time outfits? Check and check." Together we went down the list, unearthing her essentials from an assortment of nine soft toys, a deck of playing cards, 2 blankets, two journals and a pen. Calmly, I suggested we scale back on the toys, leaving behind the heaviest ones, and keeping it to one small blanket so her bag would close without difficulty. "But no handbags, Mouse. Sorry."

I waited. Historically speaking, a wail was imminent.

Mouse looked pensively down at her handbags. "Okay, Mommy," she said, then carried the bags and four of her soft toys back to her room. I almost fell out of my check-in chair. When she came back, I had her roll her suitcase to the loading zone a.k.a. the dining room. "No touching your bag until we go. Got it, Short Stuff?"

She smiled up at me. "Got it!"

Yes, I think she has.

Summer Word Search with a Twist

Summer holidays are upon us already here in Illinois and with them come the inevitable words: I'm bored. To give my girls credit, they have fantastic imaginations that keep them easily entertained for hours. But then comes a lull when they either run out of ideas or can't agree on one. That's when they come looking for me. "Mommm-my?"

I am happy to say that one day this week I was prepared. Using my word processing software I'd made a grid and created a word search based on one of their favorite stories, Purple, Green and Yellow by Robert Munsch.

Once they'd solved it, I handed them a blank grid of their own. It was time for them to make a word search for me and the Captain. Needless to say, I think they enjoyed this task better. Here are some of their creations:

Now it's my turn to make new word searches for them. Speaking of which, I'd better get to work.

If you would like to join in the fun, download a grid here or make your own. Keep in mind that words written horizontally left-to-right are the easiest, then vertically top-to-bottom. Save diagonals and reverse spellings for strong readers. Most of all, enjoy!

TCP Book Club: Your Defiant Child — 8 Steps to Better Behavior by Russell A Barkley, PhD and Christine M. Benton (Part 1)

defiance |di'fiəns|

noun

DEFINITION: open resistance; bold disobedience; 

SYNONYMS: opposition, noncompliance, disobedience, insubordination, dissent, recalcitrance, subversion, rebellion; contempt, disregard, scorn, insolence. 

ANTONYMS: obedience, compliance.

A confession: defiant behavior is my hot button.  At home it makes me want to toss out punishments faster than a baseball pitching machine set on high.  In the classroom, the potential for utter frustration is even greater: imagine managing a defiant child before 22 sets of impressionable eyes.  Add to this a defiant child's sudden, irrational, and sometimes violent tendencies, it's no wonder that developing this portion of my parental toolbox is not only of personal interest, but essential.

Your Defiant Child, written by child psychologist Dr. Russell A. Barkley and Christine M. Benton, begins by assuring parents that they are not alone. Some children are more prone to defiance than others and there might not be anything intrinsically wrong with them. Parents are encouraged to complete a survey that helps distinguish 'difficult' children from those with a diagnosable disorder.  The authors then go on to explain what predisposes a child to exhibit oppositional behavior: the child's character, the caregiver's character, the historical interaction between the two, and the family environment.  Here are my top five take-aways from Part One:

1. Defiant behavior that lasts less than six months is considered within the bounds of normal.
2. Boys are more prone to oppositional behavior and it is typical that a child will exhibit this behavior more often with the primary caregiver.
3. That said, if it is impairing your child's ability to function at an age-appropriate level or causing you or your child undue distress, it's time to take action. 
4. Severe behavior with multiple contributing factors (including ADHD and other disorders) may require professional help to achieve a successful outcome. 
5. Following a set of basic parenting principles (outlined in Part Two) can significantly improve family life regardless of the starting point.

At this point I'm interested in knowing how different this book's eight steps are from the advice recommended in How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk by Faber and Mazlish.  One way or another, I'll let you know.

Money Matters Part 2: The Value of Coins

"It's not fair. She has more than me."

The girls have just received their Swiss allowance. Emma the Brave wanted coins of all different denominations; Mighty Mouse chose all nickels. The result is that Emma has only six coins while Mouse has ten.

"She has more coins than you, not more money."

"I don't understand."

I explain to Emma that Mouse's coins are worth less and that's why she has more. "You actually have more money than she does. See?" I show her the bank books.

She studies them then looks back up at me and blinks. "I still don't understand."

Oh boy.

"Tell you what, you go play while I make something that will help you understand."

"Can I watch?"

"Uh...no."

Ten minutes later I call her back and show her a handmade version of this:

We place a coin of each respective denomination on every square: a 50 centimes piece takes up half the page; a nickel, only one twentieth. The ten and and 20 centimes pieces fall in between. We count by 5's, 10's and 20's, all the way up to 100 centimes or one franc, her weekly allowance.

"Now do you understand?"

"Yep... Next week I want all 5's."

"You got it."

Want to give my tool a try? Download your own copy here:

Money Matters Canada/USA

Money Matters Switzerland

Money Matters Euro

Missed Part 1? Read it here.

Money Matters Part 1: In the beginning...

It was bedtime one night during our ski holiday when The Captain shared this childhood story with the girls:

"When I was a little boy, I used buy lots of candy with my allowance. When my mom would ask if I had brushed my teeth, I would say I did, but I really hadn't."

"You told a lie?" Mighty Mouse asked, wide-eyed. Emma the Brave, considerably less awestruck by this misdemeanor, rolled on to her side and yawned.

"Yes, I told a lie. But you know what? The joke was on me, because when I went to the dentist, he found lots of cavities."

The story concluded with the Captain's yet-to-be-surpassed imitation of a dentist's drill. The moral: brush your teeth or the dentist will get you, that is, if your mother doesn't get you first. It might not be the best bedtime send-off, but his intentions were good.

The next morning Emma was atypically quiet over her bowl of Cheerios. She'd just about finished when out popped the question: "What's an allowance?"

And that is how the proverbial cat got out of the bag--not a bad cat, not even an ugly one, but one with claws, nonetheless.

I firmly believe it is within the parental domain to teach children money management. My parents--both accountants in their own rights--believed so, too, and trained me from an early age to be cash wise and debt wary. I fully intended to implement an allowance at some point, it was just a question of when. With the topic purring sedately at my feet, there was no time like the present.

A few nights later, it was decided. Emma the Brave would receive one franc per week and Madelaine, 50 centimes. We debated as to whether to give Mighty Mouse anything at all--she is only five. But practicality won out: 2 years x 52 weeks x approximately 12 purchases by older sibling = more opportunities to cry and whine than we parents were prepared to endure. Emma hasn't yet clued into the fact that she's missed out on two years potential income. When she does, I'm sure we'll hear about it. Until then, we'll enjoy relative bliss for the mere weekly price of a lolly.

So, for five weeks the girls saved their centimes in new ceramic cat banks bought especially for the occasion. For five weeks, I wrote down their deposits in their 'bank book.' For five weeks, Emma never once forgot to ask for her balance. Then, this past Monday, we needed eggs. We weren't in the store five seconds before they asked, "Can we buy a toy?"

It was a moment I didn't know I'd been waiting for. "No, I'm not going to buy a toy. But you can."

It took almost ten full minutes in the minuscule toy aisle of the Migros for them to decide. They studied price tags like they'd never done before. The decimal point threw them for a minute, but they quickly overcame.

"Look at this one."

"Cool. What about this one?"

"Nah, too expensive."

Were those angels singing?

With their planned purchases in hand, they practically floated to the check out. Emma the Brave had settled on a black Mustang GT and Mighty Mouse, in a clear act of older sibling hero worship, chose a white motorcycle with First Aid emblazoned in red on the side. At home, they paid me from their banks and we balanced the books.

All in all, it was a success...until next month or a trip to the dentist, which ever comes first.