New kid experiment, part 2
Well, I don't know if you all are tired of reading my parenting adventures yet, but for the sake of recording them (even just for myself), I will update with today's progress.
This morning started beautifully. Adrianna and Scott hurried to get ready to catch the bus. They rode it to town and enjoyed choosing books at the library and drinking sumptuously at Starbuck's. I drove up later, worked out at the YMCA, and then met them for some errands.
Overall, Adrianna's behavior was respectful... Until we had lunch at a little restaurant. I told her it was time to go to the bathroom. As usual, she yelled that she didn't need to go, followed by whining. I took her hand and led her to the bathroom -- where, of course, she went to the bathroom.
Five minutes later, we got in the car. Her usual first question popped out: "Can we listen to my music now?" Scott and I looked at each other, gave a quick and quiet discussion, and replied, "No, you were unkind to Mom when it was time to go to the bathroom." Of course, more complaining followed, with no reaction.
The afternoon went smoothly. Because we had our social worker back for our home study update, Adrianna's grandma took her to gymnastics class. Her grandparents brought her back in time for dinner, and she bounced in happily. I had her plate all ready for her arrival... And then it started... I know fatigue and hunger greatly contributed to her actions (as they always have).
I began, "Adrianna, I need you to go to the bathroom, change into your pajamas, and then we'll eat." The change from happy child to tantruming one was instant. While I heated food for Scott's parents, and Scott and me, Adrianna wandered around, complaining, ordering people to do what she wanted, and screaming. Steve, Julie, Scott, and I continued as if not hearing her.
Her irritation climaxed as we all sat down at the table to eat, and she came over (still attired in her leotard) to sit down. She saw instantly that there was no plate at her spot. More screaming. We prayed and ate our entire dinners while she screamed and whined the whole time. We even discussed events of the day and week normally, as if there were no other noise. (Scott's parents are on board with the changes we're working towards!)
Adrianna's complaints turned to pleads. "MOM! Listen to me! I want to talk to you! Last time I ate this food in my pajamas, it got all over them. It is so messy! I just don't want to get my pajamas on! I'M HUNGRY! I WANT FOOD!"
We finished our dinner, and everyone got up, and cleared the table. Adrianna started begging me to come with her to help her. When she finally asked genuinely and with a "Please," I came with her. As soon as I was in her room, she ordered me, "Put these clothes from gymnastics away!" "No." "YES! YOU NEED TO PUT THEM AWAY." I walked away.
She followed me, and then quickly started screaming, "I NEED TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!" I led her in there, peeled off her already dripping leotard, and allowed her to finish on the toilet.
Meanwhile, Scott's parents said their goodbyes. Scott and I did a quick, whispered consultation about whether we should help her get her pajamas on. Without a word, I took Adrianna to her room, started putting her underwear on, and even in her fatigue, her muscle memory took over. I started her pants and shirt the same way; she completed each automatically.
I led her back to the dining room, set her in front of her plate, and she devoured her dinner. Scott and I decided to stand next to her, instead of rejoining her at the table. We talked kindly with her about gymnastics. We figured that since she was back in a calm state and doing what we had asked, she should be rewarded with positive attention. She soaked it up, basking in her parents' attention.
In the middle of the meal, she looked at me genuinely, longing for my approval, longing to repair the hurts. "Mom, this is a healthy meal. Thank you for making it for me." Of course, I smiled right back at her. "Thanks, honey."
From there, our happy child returned. She even understood when we told her that she would miss out on stories in Mom and Dad's bed (her favorite nighttime ritual). Without a complaint, we put her right to bed.
And so the adventure continues... We'll see what tomorrow holds. Oh! And she asked several times, after she regained control of herself, "Mom, could we please read that New Kid by Friday book tomorrow??"
This morning started beautifully. Adrianna and Scott hurried to get ready to catch the bus. They rode it to town and enjoyed choosing books at the library and drinking sumptuously at Starbuck's. I drove up later, worked out at the YMCA, and then met them for some errands.
Overall, Adrianna's behavior was respectful... Until we had lunch at a little restaurant. I told her it was time to go to the bathroom. As usual, she yelled that she didn't need to go, followed by whining. I took her hand and led her to the bathroom -- where, of course, she went to the bathroom.
Five minutes later, we got in the car. Her usual first question popped out: "Can we listen to my music now?" Scott and I looked at each other, gave a quick and quiet discussion, and replied, "No, you were unkind to Mom when it was time to go to the bathroom." Of course, more complaining followed, with no reaction.
The afternoon went smoothly. Because we had our social worker back for our home study update, Adrianna's grandma took her to gymnastics class. Her grandparents brought her back in time for dinner, and she bounced in happily. I had her plate all ready for her arrival... And then it started... I know fatigue and hunger greatly contributed to her actions (as they always have).
I began, "Adrianna, I need you to go to the bathroom, change into your pajamas, and then we'll eat." The change from happy child to tantruming one was instant. While I heated food for Scott's parents, and Scott and me, Adrianna wandered around, complaining, ordering people to do what she wanted, and screaming. Steve, Julie, Scott, and I continued as if not hearing her.
Her irritation climaxed as we all sat down at the table to eat, and she came over (still attired in her leotard) to sit down. She saw instantly that there was no plate at her spot. More screaming. We prayed and ate our entire dinners while she screamed and whined the whole time. We even discussed events of the day and week normally, as if there were no other noise. (Scott's parents are on board with the changes we're working towards!)
Adrianna's complaints turned to pleads. "MOM! Listen to me! I want to talk to you! Last time I ate this food in my pajamas, it got all over them. It is so messy! I just don't want to get my pajamas on! I'M HUNGRY! I WANT FOOD!"
We finished our dinner, and everyone got up, and cleared the table. Adrianna started begging me to come with her to help her. When she finally asked genuinely and with a "Please," I came with her. As soon as I was in her room, she ordered me, "Put these clothes from gymnastics away!" "No." "YES! YOU NEED TO PUT THEM AWAY." I walked away.
She followed me, and then quickly started screaming, "I NEED TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!" I led her in there, peeled off her already dripping leotard, and allowed her to finish on the toilet.
Meanwhile, Scott's parents said their goodbyes. Scott and I did a quick, whispered consultation about whether we should help her get her pajamas on. Without a word, I took Adrianna to her room, started putting her underwear on, and even in her fatigue, her muscle memory took over. I started her pants and shirt the same way; she completed each automatically.
I led her back to the dining room, set her in front of her plate, and she devoured her dinner. Scott and I decided to stand next to her, instead of rejoining her at the table. We talked kindly with her about gymnastics. We figured that since she was back in a calm state and doing what we had asked, she should be rewarded with positive attention. She soaked it up, basking in her parents' attention.
In the middle of the meal, she looked at me genuinely, longing for my approval, longing to repair the hurts. "Mom, this is a healthy meal. Thank you for making it for me." Of course, I smiled right back at her. "Thanks, honey."
From there, our happy child returned. She even understood when we told her that she would miss out on stories in Mom and Dad's bed (her favorite nighttime ritual). Without a complaint, we put her right to bed.
And so the adventure continues... We'll see what tomorrow holds. Oh! And she asked several times, after she regained control of herself, "Mom, could we please read that New Kid by Friday book tomorrow??"
Comments
Just remember, it took a long time to build her habit, and it takes a while to re-make a new one.
Keep up the awesome work!