This afternoon we, the kids and I, went to a three year old birthday party across the street. The party was themed around the revived classic "Strawberry Shortcake." As some of the original fans remember, Strawberry Shortcake had a whole band of sweet friends, including Lemon Meringue. In honor of all the big headed darlings, the host has prepared a fruit tray to represent all of them. Even if lemons were not the best addition to the sweetness of the tray, it was irresitable. I put a slice on each of our kids' plates just to see what they would do.
I may interject at this moment to say that the morning up to the point of a party lunch had been rather sour. Viv was having a rough day. By 'rough' I mean insanely out of whack. As is usual with her, she has switched up her attention getting game to choose the negative consequence in order to get more attention. I was doing my best to adapt to this newest development and appropriately respond to the maniacle behavior. I wasn't succeeding. When Viv's brain turns off, it is fully and completely shut down. How do you get through? Faith was equally testy this morning. If she were not only four years old I might say she was under the influence of the female hormonal rollercoaster. Unlike Viv, Faith's motives are pretty clear, she is just not thinking. Add the two together with a house remodel and my involvement in repainting the kitchen and it was insanity.
I had played all my cards and had one last bargaining chip - the birthday party. By 9am (the party was scheduled for 1pm) Viv had run the gammut. It took all the holy angels and visions of CPS intervention to keep me for swatting that girl into the next galaxy. Faith held out the big guns until 11am. Mind you, this was a building storm. Since return from vacation Wednesday our adjustment has been crude. I have had more reaffirming talks about the 5 basic rules of our family in 3 days than ever before - as if they had never heard me say "No shutting doors" before in their life. I have been trying better patient and loving parenting with sitting and explaining and showing how much I love them and want them to be safe, which now I see may have been my undoing. I showed them my weakness - that I actually cared about the rules. If I care then they can prick at the heart.......oh......
One last slam of the bedroom door and I went to confront the perpetrator, who of course was Faith, being the only one near the door. I bent down to her level putting my face next too hers with the authoritative mommy questioning face. Did I need to ask at this point? Her response; a quick flash of a mischevious eye and a swift slap to my face. My daughter not only struck me in defiance, she slapped me in the face. I slapped her back. Not my proudest moment. It was impulse and the time had come for immediate feedback. I was further embarrassed that it happened to be in the doorway right in front of the hired help so they witnessed it, not that the conscience of a chirping cricket didn't sing loud enough to my sin.
I hastily moved Faith to her upper bunk and looked, stunned, at her. What had just happened? And how was I now the bad guy? Yes, Faith had already changed that glint into her eye to the dullness and hurt of betryal. Was this my fault? No. How dare you, you little....where did you learn this manipulative trick to deny your guilt? Grrrr.....I will deal with you later. No, better do it now. I carried Faith to the living room to talk with her. At least she listened behind those poisoned eyes. The clarion blue of her innocence was tinged. I hoped the hue would dissapate while honestly talking with her, but it wasn't happening. Time for pennance and the last chip: clean every bit of your room or you are not going to the party.
11:30am and I leave Faith wailing disparraging protests about cleaning her room and Viv in the corner repeating over and over "I will make good choices" (I hoped that maybe repetition might kick the brain in gear. Amazing, however, how mindlessly that girl can operate. Bad wiring). I take a shower, get ready and come out to the same moment in time. Only difference, Danny has peed his pants, a normal response of his to the raging seas around him. He is a good good boy. I get him changed. I release Viv from her cornered standoff and set her to help Faith finish. I tell the girls that I will be taking Danny to the party and then return to see how they are progressing with room. Danny and I walk out the door, hand in hand.
Just as I am about to explain to my neighbor across the street why Danny is the only one at the door with me and that the girls are having a har.....my front door flings open and the impassioned wails of desperate four year old come from mounting from across the road. A moment strikes me that Faith is not going to stop to look for cars before she crosses the street and I worry a bit. "I WANT TO GO TO THE PARTY!" I halt her before reaching the party door and turn her back to our prison. (ironic that just last night I was reading articles on how to create a more homey home, prison bars and barbed wire were not mentioned). I explain to her, and the rest of the neighborhood that I had not left her home alone, Don was there working, I was coming back to check on her status and she was NOT going to the party until she had cleaned the room. "But I almost have the room cleaned" she gasps between hysterical sobs. And you almost get to go to the party.
Sitting stoically on the bench in their room pointing out what to pick up next I wonder, what am I doing? I have to go back to the party, we are Anna's best friends. These girls are transformed and I am not on my best foot today. Onward ho! Room cleaned, Faith is mostly settled under her red swollen eyes and Viv sees a light at the end of the tunnel and thus has begun showing me her happiest face and 'I'm a good girl now!'
Now we are back at the lunch table with a lemon on each plate. To say parents do not get a bit of satisfaction out of playing 'pranks' on their kids would be wrong. My moment of justice comes. Trustingly and true, Faith takes a large bite off the end of her lemon. Her little face contorts and a pained squeal is emitted. "Momma, I don't want to eat this one. It is sour!" As I reassure her she doesn't have to eat it, momma just put it on her plate cuz....well there is where my reason runs out, a few emotions run through me. A bit of mean spirited laughter surfaces, as if Frankenstien had come to life. Then the rush of 'HA' followed by, 'UGH.' Ugh feels more like "really Nancy, what kind of a mom are you?" I know Faith has forgotten by now about the slaps, yet something is still sour.
The rest of the party, for me, was much like the expression of Faith's face. Contorted and controlled. I had to hold back Viv from participating since I couldn't keep her from the party yet needed to reinforce that there are long term consequences to choices made. Finally, a bit of a break through. Viv was getting it. I had held tight to my position painfully enough that she could tell that the 'I'm sweet now' can't cover up the hellian of one hour ago. Ai-yai-yai.
The kids began deteriorating again after 2 hours of party and it was time to face the warden again. I took a 'get out of jail free' card and popped in a movie. It was only a momentary release. Once over they were running around shouting at each other and playing the Last String Symphony. By dinner time everyone had their nose in a corner and I was breathing fire. PB&J was all I could must up to feed them and they were straight to bed. They were tired and finally saw that the casualties of this long battle were blood and it was time to lie down.
As I stood sentinel in their room until silence reigned, I read from a book that has been seeping in understanding and stirring up some remembrance. "The Manipulative Child" by Swihart and Cotter was a natural grab off the shelf in the parenting section. Even barely through the introduction lightbulbs are popping up all over the place. Their clinical examples of Margie, a under-acheiving dependent type; "Margie's world is threatening and fearful. She is constantly on guard to protect her secret.....In contrast "Kathy has learned that failure isn't the end of the world - that it's an unpleasant experience but not a catastrophe. She has learned that failure can be attributed to two things - insufficient effort or an unreasonable goal, and she has learned to distinguish between the two. She has also learned that persistence and patience are the keys to success." These were keys I needed to give to Viv, our little Margie.
I have a broader definition and ideal of what I am working with in Viv as I read a bit more of this book. This definition: "As we accepted the universality of manipulation among troubled youth, we were afforded our first glimpse of the larger pictures. These children were using manipulation to adapt to life's circumstances. Since manipulation requires the involvement of other people, it is dependent behavior. When we compared children who were doing well, the contrast was striking - this group eschewed manipulative behavior; they operated independently. Putting this all together, we arrived at an inevitable series of conclusions; There is a central cause for the epidemic; manipulation (dependency), the principal adapative strategy of troubled children, is not a result of the difficulties these children suffer, but is intimately related to the cause of their problems."
Josh and I have often called this dependency we see that happens generationally in America, particularly, as the 'entitlement epidemic.' Everyone believes that they deserve something from someone else for... just existing. It is a subject that has been mentioned from the broader pulpit. Now I have a deeper tie to what we are personally dealing with in Viv. Not only has she been raised watching this "It's not my fault" behavior, but has learned to cope with her difficult surroundings on a manipulative scale - totally dependent on feedback given by others. We have noted that in her world and feedback, even negative, is better than no feedback. Recognition is key. So we swing wildly around with how to fill that need with appropriate feedback. Today's battle was not giving in to her tug-of-war toward negative feedback. She wants to be put in time out. She wants to throw the fits. And more than anything she wants us to be upset with her. Every once in a fit, Viv gives you a little to stumble on with the 'oh but I am so sweet now' routine in the middle of a fierce battle of holding your anchor. Heels dug in the ground I sit back and think, is it safe to give a bit of positive feed back here or should I just take a set back and gain more ground?
I sat reading, pondering, with a slighter hope of a prayer in my heart that I could change something, or perhaps just I could change and the line jumped off the page "Self-esteem is a dynamic, ever-changing set of beliefs about oneself. It is manifest in a sense of personal competence, self-confidence, and worthiness. It varies from time to time and situation to situation....Self-esteem cannot be given to someone, but the skills to build it can be taught......Self-esteem is most apparent in individuals who have excellent knowledge of their own personal goals and values and live their lives in strict accordance with them." Instantly I remembered a lengthy in home session we had had with a child behavioral specialist regarding Viv during one of her longer and rougher streaks (called ambivalence in the healing stages of damaged children). Jill, the behavioral specialist, had suggest that along with the consistent visual behavioral modifiers we offered for Viv's fits we needed to offer a visual positive goal. A GOAL.
The moment of revelation was quick, and uncharachteristcally I moved quickly as well. The kids were asleep, I couldn't read past that point in the book and I needed to do what I had been putting off for months now.
I have just finished the gold star chart. The progression paths for each of our children that will help them move forward and upward toward an interactive and positive reinforced time with one of their parents. I have put it off for so long because if you have to make one, you have to make three, and that prospect was daunting. Yes, it took me 3 hours to do, but they are decent and it is a renewed try for something better. The bitter taste lingers in my heart for a 'bad mommy day' but I am moving myself forward just a little star on my own better person chart. I am trying. I will continue to try. Who knows if the charts will work. The important lesson today from the lemons was that my kids still trust me. I can learn and am willing to change. I do look forward to more better days ahead. I love my rascals, every one. We all deserve more gold stars each day, even if they are just cut out of yellow paper.
And fireworks just about made their heads explode with patriotic glee. Ah, vacation.