Tuesday, April 05, 2011

More About Spiritedness

I’ve almost finished reading Raising Your Spirited Child (Kurcinka), and I’ve been putting some of the suggestions into practice. For example, as Ella melted down Sunday evening out of frustration and exhaustion, I scooped her up and plunked her into the bathtub. One of the suggestions in the book is to use water when they start to lose control – water tables, baths, playing in the kitchen sink, etc. - because it is soothing to them. Initially, once she regained enough composure to use her words, she fussed at me because she didn’t want to come inside but she settled down and enjoyed the bath. She was a much happier child when she came out of the tub, and I put her on the fast track to bed – which is what she desperately needed.


I have found that, more than the practical suggestions, the book has given me a better understanding of her personality and how her mind and body work so that I can better handle it when she’s moving into the “red zone” – i.e. Out-of-Control Meltdown. I have a better understanding of the things that trigger her move to the red zone and what I can do to help her stay in the “green zone” – that peaceful place where she is in control of her emotions/body/words.

I have also learned a lot about myself and how my interactions with her can either move us both to red or keep us in green. As the adult, it’s obviously my job to maintain control of myself so I can help her learn to recognize when she’s losing control and learn how to regain/maintain control of herself. So not only do I have a better understanding of what triggers send her spiraling out of control, I also know what triggers send me spiraling out of control. Not so surprisingly, we have a lot of the same triggers: too many transitions, lack of quiet time to ourselves, invasion of personal space, and abrupt changes of plans, just to name a few.

I’ve learned that we are both introverts; loosely paraphrased, that means that we get our energy from spending time alone or with a close loved one (i.e. she can recharge by playing by herself or by having quiet time with me), and being with large groups or with people we don’t know well is exhausting for us. In complete contrast, extroverts get their energy by being around other people and they find that having too much time alone is exhausting. I took the survey for her and for myself, and both of us only scored 1 out of 9 on the extrovert list and 9 out of 10 on the introvert list. This didn’t surprise me, but I have a much better understanding of what it means now – of why I am like I am and why I often find myself so drained at the same times that she is struggling.

Case in point, a couple of weeks ago we had an open house scheduled for Sunday afternoon (our house is on the market, but that’s another story). We had a loose plan to go to church, eat lunch afterward in the fellowship hall, and then find somewhere to camp and watch basketball for a few hours. I had prepared Ella for this, with the assumption that we would all be camping somewhere together. On the way to church, Dave suggested we go to Buffalo Wild Wings to watch the games after church. Thinking of transitioning Ella, I assumed he meant we would just go there after we had lunch at church, and he assumed I knew he meant we would skip lunch at church and eat there. Regardless, I needed to transition Ella. Unfortunately, she happened to be present when we reconciled that difference, and she picked up my weird energy as I struggled to adjust to a different plan than what I had in mind. We decided to let her go home with Grandmother (She had been asking to, but she balked when she felt me waver about lunch.), so we went upstairs to find her. Grandmother already had her plate, so I got in line to fix a plate for Ella, still not sure if Dave and I were going to stay and eat or leave and watch basketball. I was concerned with making sure Ella was okay with going home with Grandmother and I thought it might be easier for her if we stayed to eat, but I knew Dave really wanted to leave and watch the games. In the background, Luke was fussing because he needed a nap. We were standing in line and Ella walked up to me and bit me. Hard, on the soft part of my thigh. She doesn’t generally bite, but she has bitten me just like that once before. I immediately bent down and corrected her, which led to tears, and more stimulation for me. As I stood there in the loud, bright (fluorescent lights really bother me sometimes) fellowship hall with a crying child on my shoulder and a fussing baby in the background,  feeling completely frazzled, I glanced up at what seemed like an impossibly long line to fix her a plate and I nearly lost it. There was too much talking, too much noise, too many people too close together, too much light, too much everything. I looked at Dave and said, “I have to get out of here. I want to leave.” I asked one of the ladies at the front of the line if I could go ahead of her to fix Ella a plate and she graciously agreed. I got Ella set up and reassured that I wasn’t leaving her forever and would be back to Grandmother’s to pick her up later, scooped up the now crying Luke, and practically ran out of there.

In talking it over with Dave, who thought I was really losing my sanity, I reached a few conclusions, thanks to my recent reading. I had had way too little sleep in the nights leading up to this, and that alone seriously impeded my ability to cope with the change of plans and the extra stimulation that a fellowship lunch usually brings. I was seriously stressed out about the open house, and had been for days, though it took me a while to realize and vocalize it. I wasn’t stressed about keeping the house clean, as Dave first believed when I was struggling to articulate – I was stressed about the thought that strangers were going to be walking through it and I was VERY resentful that I could not go home when I desperately needed a nap. I had not had enough quiet time to myself to recharge. I was one big, frazzled nerve ending trying to help another little frazzled nerve ending cope with all the same stresses. I know that she bit me because she was over-stimulated, too. The only other time she has bitten me (aside from the teething phase), it happened the exact same way, in the fellowship hall at church.

The good news is that I got out of there before I really lost control, and I had a calm afternoon while Ella had a calm afternoon playing at Grandmother’s. She decided to spend the night, and I decided to let her. I camped out on our couch, nursed Luke to sleep, and did not move for three hours when I got up to go to bed. The next morning, I was good to go again, and so was Ella.

I can’t say that the book is teaching me anything I didn’t already know on some level, but it is making me feel less like a socially inept freak and more like a normal person because now I have a better understanding of why I am so uncomfortable around crowds and strangers. It’s also helping me recognize when we (Ella and/or me) are headed for disaster so that I can take appropriate steps to mitigate it before we get beyond the coping point. I definitely think Ella is responding well to the things I’ve been practicing because she’s been doing a much better job of using her words when she’s upset rather than defaulting to an all-out, shrieking, tearful meltdown.

I think the book is worth the read, but I’d suggest you read How To Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk, by Faber and Mazlish, first. I’ve found that Raising Your Spirited Child suggests a lot of the same methods for helping your child learn to communicate (with words rather than shrieks, teeth, hands, etc), but How To Talk lays it out in a lot more detail with a lot more practical application.

I never really considered that I would learn so much about myself on this Great Parenting Adventure; it’s pretty liberating, if not disconcerting at times.

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