Laziness

June 30, 2013

Sweetie Pie #1 is LAZY.

There’s just no denying it any longer. I tried.

Some children are slow to the start. It takes them awhile to get moving. And when they get moving it’s at a snail’s pace. And that’s ok. Not everyone can be the Tasmanian Devil, flitting from one thing to another in a mad flurry of activity.

The problem is neither the snail nor the Tasmanian Devil ever get anything done. There is a complete lack out activity on one hand, and too much activity one the other hand, both resulting in nothing getting done.

So I prefer the Tortoise approach. Slow and steady wins the race. You don’t have to sprint through your day but you do need to keep moving if you want to get anything done. And that is where my dear little Sweetie Pie #1 falls short.

I send her to her room to clean up and she scampers away to get the job done. Ten minutes later, NOTHING has been put away. Somewhere down the 12 foot hallway she lost her drive to do her chore. What I find is a beautiful little girl sitting on her floor, or on her bed, looking at the mess.  Or, I find her actually making more of a mess.

She would rather lie around with her thumb in her mouth and her blankie wrapped around her body then pick up a dirty sock and put it in the hamper. But I think I stumbled on the solution this weekend.

Sweetie Pie wanted to help make her sister’s birthday cake (well actually she wanted to eat the icing). I wanted her to get her things out of the kitchen. In her typical fashion she stuck her thumb in her mouth and just stood there. Now I’m trying to turn over a new leaf in my own life so instead of getting angry at her disobedience and yelling or spanking I just ignored her. Sure enough she thought she won the battle. She climbed up on the counter and proceeded to help “make” the cake. I picked her up put her on the floor and told her again to put her things away. Second chorus same as the first. After three rounds she looks at me and says, with tears in her eyes, “I want some icing.” So I looked back at her and said “And I want your things out of the kitchen.” Light bulb moment. Sweetie Pie picked up her stuff, put it away, and came right back for her icing which I gladly gave her.

“For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work , neither should he eat .” – 2 Thessalonians 3:10

So I’m going to take the ‘You Don’t Work, You Don’t Eat’ approach. No yelling. No threatening. And no food. I figure if it works with chocolate icing it should work with lunch and dinner. Of course the draw of chocolate icing is stronger than that of brussell sprouts so this plan may backfire. We’ll see.

“Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest. How long will you lie there, you sluggard? When will you get up from your sleep? A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest--and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man.” – Proverbs 6:6-11

LA'ZY,

1. Disinclined to action or exertion; naturally or habitually slothful; sluggish; indolent; averse to labor; heavy in motion.

2. Slow; moving slowly or apparently with labor; as a lazy stream.

Learn Something New Every Day

Image from marriagelifeministries.org

May 24, 2013

We’ve had some insights into Little Big Boy Man’s personality this past month; which, though not earth shattering, have turned on some proverbial light bulbs.

Lesson Learned #1

We moved in October. No big deal. It was a house our children were familiar with and have actually spent quite a bit of time in. Outside of the normal stresses of moving a household (as well as some self-inflicted ones – read about them here) I thought thing went well. But as time went by Little Big Boy Man became increasingly emotional. It was not uncommon to have him say how much he hated the new house, or how he wanted to go home.

We would try to point out to him all the benefits of moving to our new house and that home is where the people who love you are. Have you ever tried to be logical with an emotional 6 year old? Yeah – don’t bother it doesn’t work. Then one night after a particularly bad emotional outburst my husband sat with our son and talked and listened (mostly listen) and it was finally revealed what was going on. Through tears our son explained that no matter how he arranged his room, he could not get it like it was in our old house. His walls were the wrong color!, the light coming in the window was not the same!, and his blue rug was gone!

That weekend we bought paint and went to work on his room. Little Big Boy Man supervised the whole process. At one point my husband reports that he actually sighed and said “My walls are blue” in a whisper. Things are still not exactly like they were in our old house but we no longer hear how much he hates our new home.

The lesson learned: Our boy’s feelings of safety and well-being are tied to tangible things. He does not handle changes to his world well. Things that are the normal flow of life for most devastate him.

Lesson Learned #2

Just last week we were finishing up our afternoon of school. We were on spelling and had just gotten started when out of the blue Little Big Boy Man throws a world class temper-tantrum. Fists clenched, face red, body writhing, tears flowing. Emphatic statements that started with “You never…”, “You always…”, and my personal favorite “You treat me like a slave…” came spewing from his lips. After 45 minutes of talking and time-outs (for me, not him) things finally calmed down and we were able to complete the assignment.

I had texted my husband to let him know we would be home when he got home because of the fit. (Normally we go to Tae Kwon Do). Over dinner the normal “how was your day?” became “So what happened today?” And just as calmly Little Big Boy Man said “I didn’t want to do spelling.” That’s it! All that drama over 10 little spelling words.

The lesson learned: our son masterfully uses temper-tantrums to avoid doing things he does not wish to do but knows he has to anyway. When this would happen in the past, I would go into worry mode. I would engage him at the level he was at. I would cajole, reason, and often yell back.  Solving nothing and making everything worse. After my light bulb moment, I have found that if I don’t engage him during those times he will usually give up the fit and talk to me instead.