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03/10/2010
Polyphonic spree
I have this friend. I've written about her before, I know. T. is many, many things I cherish in a friend: generous, dependable, clever, capable, responsive, and funny — my God, so funny. She had her kids at the same age I had mine but encountered no difficulties. So it wasn't until I had trouble conceiving that the question of infertility presented itself to her in any meaningful way. We learned a lot about it together, I firsthand and in the moment, she just a half-step behind.
She's always been there for me. If because of this experiential gap there have been times that "there" has meant "not quite exactly there," well, it was still a lot closer than any of my other friends were. I'll give you an example. The day I was discharged from the hospital after Charlie's birth, she dropped everything to show up, take me to lunch, and treat me to a pedicure, a bracing few moments of normalcy that shored me up more than I can say. (The pan of lasagna and the brownies were a nice touch, too.) This past weekend she said to me, "It wasn't until Charlie was born that I learned that when a baby's born early, there's something to say other than 'Holy shit it's so soon oh my fuck is everybody okay?' That you should also say, 'Congratulations! You have a baby now!'" See what I mean? She's always been right there with me, taking it all in — not always knowing immediately what to say, but paying very close attention, meeting it all with an open heart, and learning. Just like those of us living it more personally.
So I get a little thrill — of pride, of gratitude that I have such an ally — each time I see the payoff from that. Since my experience is over, her understanding has fully caught up, and I'm rocked by the awesomeness of hearing her in action: arguing with a solvent staunch Republican friend, say, who's dealing with infertility himself, about insurance coverage for treatment. Or taking her chiropractor to task.
Her chiropractor, it seems, regularly posts a bulletin up by the front desk. I imagine it's generally something along the lines of Your Spine: Threat or Menace? and What to Expect When You're Expecting Your Head to Be Twisted Clean Off. On the day in question, the bulletin made...let us say egregiously inflated...claims about chiropractic care and infertility. T. read it, drew herself up to her full rhetorical height of about eight foot six, and marched in to the exam room, where she proceeded to tear the poor unsuspecting chiropractor a brand new musculoskelethole.
She told him, she said, that although chiropractic adjustment might have some applicability as complementary medicine, it doesn't constitute any kind of standalone treatment or cure for infertility, and that by posting the bulletin his office appeared to endorse a stance that was wholly irresponsible. That by disseminating such claims, his practice could deter patients of his from seeking real, for-true reproductive medical help. And that he was lucky, she finished, to be hearing this from a patient who didn't have an immediate stake in the matter — not a vulnerable patient, not one the notice had hurt or offended personally, "not my friend Julie, who'd probably feel like burning down the clinic just to make a point."
Which is funny, because, you know, I don't have anything against arson, but it might have been a slight exaggeration.
We visited T., whom I like to call Effortless Segue in moments of affection, this past weekend. I was somewhat apprehensive about the visit because of Charlie's recent behavior. But I worried for nothing. He was wonderful, really great company. It's almost like he'd read my post and all of your truly helpful suggestions and decided he'd better shape up if he didn't want me following him around cheerfully saying, "That's terrible! But I don't care! Now I'm going for a time-out. In a place of loving curiosity! After which I will shepherd you to bed promptly at four of the clock. Also, the cat loves me better." Or some combination of same.
Really, thank you all. I read every comment with great interest — not to say ravenous desperation — and they gave me a lot to think about. In the spirit of continuing conversation, I'll say that while an earlier bedtime has its charms, what we found when we put Charlie to bed early is that he still stayed awake exactly as long, sometimes until nine o'clock and beyond. With yodeling, y'all. Now, I'm not opposed to his being awake, working out the details of his day; mostly I just need him to be in his room alone and in bed. As the Biblical proverb goes, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. But going all lonely goatherd is simply not okay. Anything short of eight and, goddamn, it's Yma Sumac.
Also, I have a terminology problem with some of the suggestions, probably nothing more than semantic, but significant. Any sentence that begins with "I love you, but..." makes me shiver a little. To me, that seems to suggest a condition. I don't want any kid to think that there are limits on my love. (My tolerance, certainly.) I'd be much more inclined to say, "I love you, and..." or "Because I love you..." I love you, and I want you to learn to behave like a decent human being instead of an entitled little savage, so... Or Because I love you, I can't let you become someone who says mean things to hurt people. I know this is probably an esoteric point, but I think language is important. (The same goes for "I love you, but right now I don't like you," times a million. I feel creepy even typing that.)
But what a lot of great insight in those comments. I want to single out one particular way in which you've helped. Up till now I've made an effort not to talk about the jobs I don't like to do. Oh, sure: When Charlie complains about setting the table, I've reminded him that everyone has to do things we don't want to, but when he's asked what I mean, I've admitted only to hating to pay taxes, or getting shots, or saying goodbye to good ol' Effortless Segue. Neutral things like that. I haven't wanted him to think I resent any of the things I do to take care of him and Ben. But I'm starting to think that's wrong-headed, a good way to allow him to take for granted what Paul and I do every day. Maybe, just maybe, it's okay for him to know that I'm not that jazzed about cleaning errant pee from the toilet seat. And the floor. And the wall behind the toilet. And the crevice where the toilet tank joins the bowl. (If there are still more places pee can hide, do not tell me where.)
Even more helpful was the commiseration. It's such a relief to know that even if my young reprobate does end up in prison, at least he'll have plenty of company. Hair-tearing-out shared is hair-tearing-out assuaged. And if not, we'll go bald together.
I get so much out of my blog. Thank you for helping.
Now can I tell you about Ben for a second? Ben is awesome. There.
I just don't know how to convey how dear he is, how delicious I find him even when he's screaming, screeeeaming, oh Jesus please stop the screaming. I don't have any great anecdotes that illustrate it; it doesn't make for much of a story, the way he gathered his boots because he wanted to leave the café, but then saw me bringing a brownie, so stopped in his tracks and dropped them, but it does make me grin like a fool.
Finally, an update on the Utah bill that made me so crotchety, the one allowing the state to charge a woman with criminal homicide for inducing a miscarriage or obtaining an illegal abortion. According to the New York Times, the scope of the bill has been narrowed somewhat:
The sponsor, Representative Carl D. Wimmer, a Republican, said he had removed a key clause that would have allowed prosecution under Utah’s criminal homicide laws for a “reckless act of the woman” that resulted in death to a fetus. Language will remain, he said, that makes a woman’s “intentional” actions, if resulting in the death of her fetus in an illegal abortion, a felony.
Gosh, thanks, Carl! That's so much better!
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The phrase "entitled little savage" made me think of what I'm going through with my 18 month old right now. He's in a... stage. *sigh*
T sounds awesome.
Ben is adorable. Delicious. I want to eat him up.
you are so lucky to have a friend like T. Keep her close. (and as they say, keep your enemies closer.)
Also, yes! Ben! Adorable!
You must keep writing this blog forever. My husband and I are preparing to adopt and I have so many concerns about our ability to parent (not borne of anything realistic -- it's not like we are drug addicts or anything), and when I read your blog, it makes me feel like I just might be able to do the parenting thing. So since we don't have our child yet, you have to keep writing, because as much as the blog may be helping you, it helps us too, though I don't know that I'd want to get into a throwdown blow-by-blow contest as to who benefits more.
So thanks, and please just keep doing what you do.
Of course I can post now, after the fact! I wanted to tell you with your last post that you really gave me something to chew on. I have never thought twice about telling the kids, ''I don't care'' I mean, I like to think I am aware of their feelings and how language effects them but as it applies to utilitarian things, it just never occurred to me how many times in a given day/week/month I say, ''I don't care, do it anyway, not listening anymore''.
That said, 5 year olds ARE entitled little savages and letting them know that no, in fact, servicing their needs is a labor of love for them, not the chores is a good thing. A very, very good thing because as good as I am at telling them to suck it up and get (insert mundane chore here) done, I bitch bitch bitch with the best of them about the never ending laundry every single day.
I'm kind of with charmingbitch, here. Little kids are entitled little savages, and it can be hard to inspire gratitude, but dammit, I'm going to do my best to try. To take your example: I've started telling M. that he should watch where he pees, because I'm the one that cleans the pee up every. single. time. he misses, and it would make mommies life SO MUCH EASIER if he just did a better job paying attention so he doesn't miss. Now, does he miss less often? No, not really. But he does feel some kind of twinge of conscence when he does, and at least notices enough that he grabs a pile of TP and makes a half-assed attempt to clean up after himself. I'm proud of him for trying, and tell him so. It's progress.
Gotta love Utah, a reckless state, indeed.
Oh, Ben, is just too much.
I'm just remembering when my son was threeish and very demanding and I said something like, "do you think I'm going to wait on you hand and foot?" and he replied, "Hand and Foot! I want hand and foot!"
Still makes me laugh.
mazarin, Right on!
I forgot in the last post to add the good news of this age; around four I started to feel less like my child's maid and more like his supervisor. Don't get me wrong, it took years and years but the sooner you get started, the better.
For example, somone has to clean up that pee and it should be the person who peed it. We showed our son how to take a few squares of tp and wipe up around the bowl. Believe me, the pee will still wind up in far too many places outside the bowl but it is a start.
Also, talking about the chores I don't love lead to a lot of interesting coversations about how to make the time pass when doing things we have to do but don't love to do. Listen to music? Sing? Talk with someone while they do their chores (talk, not complain.) and so on. It also lead to me pulling my hair out in frustration but I'm trying to focus on the positive!
Lastly, I wanted my son to know that keeping a home and raising a child were real work. That some parents have paid work but that home is work as well.
Let us know how that plan works out with Charlie. I really spent your last post saying, "I wonder if ten years is too long for a time out."
Also, it's good to know that even if you have been unlucky in many things, at least you had good luck in your choice of friends. Who brings lasagna and brownies? Pure gold!
We are also in the "I love you, and..." camp.
"I love you but I don't like you right now"? Never. "I love you but I don't like your [insert negative behavior of choice, e.g., whining, tantruming, throwing your clothes on the floor in a fit of pique] right now"? About once a day.
Let me just point out that the crack about my "full rhetorical height of eight foot six" made me laugh, given my "actual height of five foot one, but only because I grew an inch after I started yoga."
Thanks for the kind words.
As a child, I thought it was my Mom's Job to do all those thankless, pee-cleaning tasks, and I had absolutely NO SYMPATHY for her.
Luckily, I straightened out; nevertheless, I think it is EXTREMELY HEALTHY to get kids doing their own cleaning up after themselves, their own laundry, etc, at the earliest age it can be managed.
Especially boys, for reasons I probably don't have to spell out. Having to do with everyone is the world possessing a vagina being a potential servant who should like it, because it is their job.
To quote what's his name from Modern Family, "Mom does have a job, she just works for US now."
Recently I have felt like all I do is clean up all day long and that is NOT my job as mom. I have put my foot down and became Sgt, Mom this week so it stops.
We need more people like your friend T in the world. Stand for something or fall for anything!
I totally agree about the "but" thing--one of the most useful things I learned on my way to becoming a psychotherapist was the power of the word "but." It can really undo all the nice, empathic, understanding, comforting things you may have said previously. I usually use "and" instead. It really is very important, I think.
My sons still sit down to pee. When I think that they can aim well enough, then they can pee standing up.
I never say "I love you and..." or "I love you but..." I do say please. as in "knock that off and I mean right now...please. thank you." and "If I hear you scream like that one more time I'm going to go crazy. please stop it...NOW". I say I love you, all the time, but never when I'm correcting them. The rule of thumb is to praise at least twice, correct once. Your kids know you love them, feeling like you have to say I love you when you correct them is unnecessary and sometimes confusing. As a daycare worker I had to correct four year olds all the time, and I wasn't really at liberty to be telling the kids that I loved them. Say "I love you" just because, save your ands and buts.
Are you speaking to me, Chickenpig, or just...generalizing? Because I think we've got the expressing love thing covered, thanks.
I'm so glad you've figured out how to handle it. No matter what we all tell you, it really boils down to what works in your family with your children.
Ben is adorable, and so is Charlie...I'll bet I would lauuuugh if I were nearby when he was being obstreperous. My daughters and I are the bane of my sister's existence when my nephew is being rather naughty, because he is so damned funny that we can't help laughing or snickering and making it all worse.
Children exist to enrich your colorist.
I was one of those kids who couldn't sleep earlier. I needed to sleep later. That's just how I was. Know how I know? BECAUSE THAT'S WHO I STILL AM.
My father finally gave up razzing me about it when I was 22. I reminded him that no matter how late he goes to bed the night before, he can't sleep in. Well, no matter how early I was up this morning, I can't go to bed early.
My bedtime was 10 pm when I was 9, and that was just BE IN BED. I didn't sleep til one.
Some kids just can't go to bed early. That doesn't mean they don't need sleep. I have been sleep deprived my whole life. Damn school.
Well, stating the bleeding obvious, parenting is just really hard, isn't it? I remind myself daily of Wollacott's theory of 'the good-enough parent,' because that's all I can be. It makes me feel better to know that being perfect would be a bad thing for my chlidren, not of course that it's possible.
having not experienced five yet, I just quake in fear at the possibilites. Because 2.5 is pretty challenging sometimes.
Charlie seems to be a pretty bright kid...perhaps a collaborative problem solving approach would work great for those repeated behaviors. Check out Dr. Greene's The Explosive Child (terrible, terrible title) and see how Plan A, Plan B and Plan C would work for you....it is saving my life right now....
Thanks for all of your writing - I sooo look forward to it.
When my kids have ever given me the dreaded, "I hate you....or You're a mean Mom" I have always said, I'm sorry that you feel that way right now, you probably don't mean that, you are just frustrated with (fill in whatever) right now. I love you all the time, even when you are being naughty."
Give them a bit of time to think, and they always come back with an apology.
Word on the not using "I love you, but right now I don't like you." My parents used to say that or "I love you, but I don't always like you." It always hurt, and made me feel like a horrible person. I don't recommend it.
As my therapist used to say to her young son "I love you very much but I don't like you right now" and "I have a job, going to work. You have a job getting me out of the house on time. If you worked for any one else you would be fired"
I am happy to tell you he has grown up a wonderful, talented, happy, worships his mother 20 year old.
There is hope.
Anne points up something I thought about regarding that whole like/love phrasing, which is that I am comfortable saying I don't like a behavior. The "I don't like you right now" phrasing makes me uncomfortable because it is so all-encompassing. I am also trying to verbalize how I feel: "You are biting and hitting me and that is not okay, I'm feeling very upset and angry." Because I grew up in a family where we didn't really talk about negative and bad feelings, and so they became more powerful than they should be, for lack of acknowledgment.
And, overall, I really like the idea that kids should know 1) we're human and 2) that life requires work. I don't want to be a miserable martyr--I just want them to understand that good things don't just drop into your lap. I was not really spoiled, but it took me too long to understand that.
Could it be that, if Charlie's a night owl, he's not getting to sleep in enough in the morning? Or, alternatively, he's not still napping or anything, is he? --All right, I can hear your eyes rolling from over here--never mind, I'm dropping the topic! Honestly, "just a phase" is oft used for a reason.
It's late, I didn't say that very well. I feel a lot better separating out a particular behavior from a kid's entire identity. Although, now that I think about it, I am far from perfect in this realm; saying "You are misbehaving," as I have done so much recently, is not nearly as helpful as saying, "It's not okay to kick and spit" (while mentally adding on--YOU LITTLE BEAST).
Awww. Ben is adorable! Charlie sounds like a typical 5 year old - precious one second and a demon spawn the next. Hang in there - I don't have kids yet but I work with them and 6 and 7 are better. :)
Thought this might interest you, BTW - British woman finally gets twins after 15 years of IVF.
http://www.nydailynews.com/lifestyle/health/2010/01/19/2010-01-19_british_woman_gives_birth_to_twin_boys_after_25_years_of_ivf_treatments.html
Ah, Julie - I've been reading you for so many years, I remember the original Vagina Possee and I still follow every one of you who is still blogging (though I really miss Getupgrrrl). I think I'm the only woman from those days who has not yet had any success on the baby front, despite 2 surrogates and 3 egg donors (though we're in the dreaded 2ww now on our FINAL EVER cycle).
In any case, I wanted to say that I just blogged about how unconditional praise is so critical in bringing up the kiddies, from a Step-mum perspective though. How we say things is just as important as what we say. I agree with you that the, "I love you but..." sends a strong message of conditionality to your love that children pick up on and, as it says in the blog, it haunts them. Here's a link to an article I cited that I feel has some great suggestions along those lines. The author says, "The word "but" is an eraser, wiping out the praise part of your statement."
http://www.aish.com/f/p/48931157.html
At first I thought the photo was Ben putting himself in a burlap sack so his mother's various fans could more easily transport him for a day out, after which we would give him right back, on time, we promised. I thought it was so nice of you to share, and so pleasant that Ben is at a stage when he will allow himself to be shared.
Then I realized it was a blanket, and I will have to content myself with my own kids, who do not love me any more because I am mean. But that's OK! I get to love them forever anyway, so there!
Is the "so there!" petty of me?
I'm a firm believer in the "yes and" approach rather than "yes but."
good for your friend for taking the chiro to task. there's one around here who claims he can cure cancer. pisses me off. my hub too, since it's his damn profession.
I don't tell my boys I love them when I discipline them (or lose my temper). The way I see things, disciplinary language is for disciplining, angry language is for anger, and loving language is for love. Combining them feels a little sadomasochistic to me--and a little dishonest, as well. I can't expect to raise emotionally intelligent humans if I keep using the word "love" in close proximity to things that aren't.
Kind of nice to see "It's terrible" in there. It helps to keep a sense of humor, when I can manage to...
I absolutely agree, Keith, and I don't do it in the moment. Here, that kind of language is for The Bedtime Conversation, not for the Oh My God Knock It OFF Exchange.
We agree, so we must be right.
I've been having those conversations with my 5-year old, usually when he's just not doing the tasks he knows how to do and is expected to do consistently: wash his hands, pick up toys, put on jacket, etc.
It gets to a point where I feel just like the old Gary Larson cartoon with the human and dog. The human is telling the dog not to do whatever; the dog hears "blah blah blah, WALK; blah blah blah, BONE, blah blah BARK". I can't stand to even listen to myself when the conversation gets to that level. So no words of wisdom from me.
At a positive note, thanks for the story about your friend giving you that extra care after your discharge from the hospital. It inspired me to cook up two meals and a pan of brownies for a neighbor who just came home from the hospital with a baby boy. She has three girls already, all under 7. Although her parents are in town to help with the house and kids, she was glad to have prepared meals on hand. The older girls remembered me from when they used to play with my son and I had a chance to reconnect with a very sweet woman with a schedule even busier than mine. The episode reminded me that neighbors can play a big role in supporting a family.
Melissa
I think one of the more awesome side effects of going through infertility hell was watching my close friends become so aware of how they could help not only me through, but each other. Selfish, I know. But having a friend that not only will fight a battle for you, but knows that there is even a battle to be fought is pretty kick ass.
That's wonderful to have such an understanding friend. My most understanding friend, who is still incredibly dear to me, offered, "Why don't you just go to Vietnam to adopt? They have a lot of babies there." She later apologized after a feud, and I admitted that it was just her desire to spare me the agony of IVF and to fix problems instantly.
Off-topic ... My first-grader looked over my shoulder, the last time I opened your blog and began reading "a little pr-pr-egg ..." I decided to scroll away then so that I didn't have to explain what "a little pregnant" meant. Ha ha.
It is hard to come by friends who are that awesome... at least I think so.
I approach children bluntly. If you explain why sometimes has to be done, then there is no self-gratification ("I love you, but" or even "Because I love you" you will do this...)
There is a way to be both blunt and nice at the same time. Children do understand when you explain and will be more apt to do what you need done.
Perhaps that is because that is how I was raised, so everyone has their own way to do this.
By the way, I work as a virtual assistant of The Healthy Moms ( http://www.thehealthymoms.net ), the site is fairly new and I thought I would drop by some mom and health related sites to spread the word.
just gotta say, as a chiropractor... that that guy does NOT represent all of us. i'm hoping that he meant to imply that maaaybe, making sure the nerves were all a-flowing properly in the utero-regions could in theory, help with fertility... but somehow i'm sensing he outright claimed it.
i've had people recommended to me because they've heard chiro can help fertility. all i'll say is it doesn't hurt, who knows, worth a shot...
good for your friend for taking him to task.
Unfortunately infertility is one of the conditions frequently taken advantage of by a lot of alternative medicines. There's everything from chiropractic adjustment to homeopathy to aromatherapy to even colored light therapies that are marketed as curing infertility. Some of it's probably because medical treatments like IVF are so expensive that it seems really tempting to try something that only costs a few hundred. Plus, since most couples diagnosed as infertile do eventually conceive one way or the other, it's easy to claim it was because they used certain essential oils or wore red strings.
But is it acceptable to say, "I love you, AND right now you're being an asshole."