Defiance – how to handle it, how to recognize it?
It becomes a habit every day, day after day.
Every day at about 7:50 I announce departure time. Time for school. It’s the last transition of many, in our finely honed morning routine.
Currently we have a new hic-cup. My announcement prompts him, a reminder. Now he knows that it’s time to leave it also means that he remembers that he wants to take a Garfield book to school to share with his new pal. Instead of prompting him to move towards the car, I inadvertently give him a tip off to go and seek out the book. Wrong direction. Wrong prompt. Insufficient time to accommodate this new step.
I bound after him, up the stairs, three at a time because I’m cross and I am utterly sick of the deviation from the routine. Late for school is a really bad way to start the day. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could just nip upstairs and grab a book, but nipping isn’t in his nature. His nature dictates that considerable quantities of time must be expended upon choice, far too long for the tightly micro managed schedule. If the morning routine is derailed, then the last transition can unravel the previous hour’s work.
I yell at his swiftly departing shoes as they disappear. Yelling is nearly always a mistake. A louder voice is no more likely to be heard than a quieter voice. “Stop now and come down here!” A shrieky voice is quite properly tuned out.
This habit has developed as a direct result of my own behaviour. Unwilling to leave the other two unsupervised downstairs, I have permitted him to saunter off at the last minute to get a book. Day after day, day after day. If I leave the other two unsupervised downstairs those last few crucial minutes of the routine deviate down a cul-de-sac. The little one removes shoes, the coat gets lost, a bathroom call means that clothing is superfluous but worst of all by far, is that he’ll start to do something new, which means that there will be an additional ‘stop,’ and an additional ‘transition,’ which means an additional meltdown.
If time allows I can prompt him through re-dress, re-shoe, wash hands, flush the loo, hunt the coat. If not, I can do them all for him in about 4 minutes flat. The one thing I can not do is prevent the inevitable meltdown from ‘stopping’ the new activity. I do not want to deal with additional meltdowns just before school. The minutes before school must be calm, organized and structured so as to give them all the very best chance of experiencing a successful day.
Today, the hic-cup must be eliminated. I find him in his room sprawled on the floor surrounded by a slew of Garfield cartoon books. I close my mind to the downstairs scene where the clock is ticking backwards. Downstairs the morning routine is in reverse. I look at my son. He is approximately twelve and a half minutes away from making a positive choice. I can feel steam bursting from my ear-drums. My voice is too hard. My face wears a scowl. I grab the nearest book and pull him to his feet. Outside the engine revves as his father waits for the delivery of three children on the driveway, the sound pumps my blood pressure. I march him and the book back down stairs as I berate him with a detailed example of defiance. Too harsh. Too fast. Far too many words. Irritation makes me irrational, too quick to categorize.
Back in the kitchen he is small, shiny eyed and round shouldered but just about holds it together despite the over-kill. His little brother blinks out of the toilet, stitchless, hands full of Pokemon Trading cards, alarmed by the static electricity that ignites the room.
Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I can prompt him, twelve and a half minutes prior to departure, to go and choose a book. It’s not defiance but determination
Fortunately for me, he’s a very forgiving kind of a child.
March 6th, 2009 at 12:25 am
“Fortunately for me, he’s a very forgiving kind of a child.” Oh, Maddy. I have so often thought the same thing of my sons. Hope tomorrow’s easier.
March 6th, 2009 at 5:33 am
Oh my, I’ve been there so many times it’s almost like looking in my own window. I inevitably get the “Why are you yelling at me??” wail. He is puzzled and hurt, but fails to relate my frustration to his behavior. Cause and effect escapes him.
And yes, thank goodness, though sensitive, he is also forgiving.
March 6th, 2009 at 5:34 am
When it comes to our kids, curing a case of the “hiccups” is so incredibly difficult. I have no doubt that you will eventually prompt him out of this habit of his — emphasis on the word eventually.
March 6th, 2009 at 5:59 am
I sit and reflect on a mental image of the crumbling of the pedestal I have put you on. (My mistake, not yours.) I bet you are glad to be at eye-level with everyone else.
That perfection gig is so overrated. He is forgiving because you are forgiving. A clean slate for tomorrow. Indeed.
Salud.
March 6th, 2009 at 6:39 am
I too feel much better at the “human” Maddy
Little boy starts getting ready for the 8:20 bus at 8. Goal is to be out the door waiting on the lane the latest by 8:15. Elder starts at 8:25 for an 8:40 bus.
Luckily most days we have to stand around and wait but for those last minute “we forgot” days… the extra time is worth those days of “when’s my bus coming”, “it’s never going to get here”.
March 6th, 2009 at 7:20 am
Wishing you a smoother time of it for the next school day. Maybe you could ask him to select a couple the night before and place them downstairs so he can choose ONE of those the next morning? Unless, of course, he sleeps with them or needs to have them nearby at night. In which case, um, you need a machine that freezes time and/or your other children long enough to accomplish the dash up the stairs!
March 6th, 2009 at 8:31 am
Oh, can I relate! Awesome post. I’ve so been there, and I’m always learning that what needs to change is my routine. Sigh! But change is hard!
BTW, I wanted to Stumble this, but for some reason your site keeps crashing my browser. I had to switch browsers and can’t Stumble from this one. Grr!
March 6th, 2009 at 8:44 am
that’s so tough, you’re doing it right though. those little boy bravado on the outside, soft and vulnerable on the inside egos are tough
March 6th, 2009 at 10:17 am
You just described my morning routine failures PERFECTLY!!! I am so relieved I am not the only one that messes it up. And when I do mess it up – missing my opportunity to give earlier cues and then becoming too harsh, too fierce and totally destroying the positivity I long for, I thank the Lord that my son forgives and that tomorrow I get to try again.
BTW – I picked you for Say It Forward today! THANKS for all your great comments – and your AWESOME blog.
March 6th, 2009 at 10:42 am
This is a “hiccup” we have had to work into our daily routine. After breakfast, I have to tell my son “if you’re taking anything (video tape) with you today, get it now”. He does, and we put it in his backpack. It’s worked like a dream, but it took me a bit to figure out how to make it flow with the timing.
March 6th, 2009 at 11:03 am
Oh Maddie, big hugs. I too have been here.
Heather
March 6th, 2009 at 4:05 pm
Ah, those lovely morning routines. Oh, and add me to the list who’s glad I’m not the only one.
March 6th, 2009 at 5:12 pm
I do think that we live parallel lives, right down to the Garfield books. What IS it with Garfield and boys these days?
I went off on our middle one this morning for pretty much exactly the same transgression and for pretty much exactly the same reasons and felt pretty exactly as bad about it afterward.
March 6th, 2009 at 7:28 pm
I have been in that same position and felt the same way. At least we always have ‘tomorrow’ to try again.
March 7th, 2009 at 8:11 am
Different issues here, but the same difficulty getting out the door on time in the morning. I finally, reluctantly, realized that what helps the most is to get us all up half an hour earlier, and plan to be out the door 15 minutes before we really need to be.
March 12th, 2009 at 2:22 am
So often I think I am the only one that hiccups and yells instead of being the mother I think I should be.
Thank you for being real.