Facebook Status Updates

May 2010:

[True Mama] just overheard the following conversation between her stepdaughter and son:
MADDY: Henry, I'm fabulous.
HENRY: No, you're not. You're a pain in the butt, that's what you are.

[True Mama] was reading a book with Henry when he suddenly asked, "So *when* did Daddy give you his sperm?" It was *almost* worth the financial, emotional and physical cost of IVF to have been able to answer, "We went to the clinic."

[True Mama] is feeling the love. A few days ago, while I was finding a toy Henry needed, Henry said, "You're the best mommy ever." And yesterday I was explaining the meaning of the song "You Are My Sunshine" and he said, "Mom, you're *my* sunshine."

[True Mama] and Henry were walking around the block to catch the ice cream truck when Henry said, happily, "I smell a hint of Bomb Pop!"

[True Mama]'s son had been wanting the baby to be a girl, because his older (half) sister won't do what he says and he wanted a girl he could boss around. But now Henry says he wants a little brother, because "boys are calmer than girls."

[True Mama]'s husband and son were pretending Henry was a dog this morning, and Daddy asked, "So, do you have a bone?" Henry said, "Duh-uh. All animals have bones. Otherwise they'd be flat as pancakes."

[True Mama]'s four-year old likes to pretend he's a stray kitty and that his former owner was Dick Cheney, who did awful things like withhold food and name him "Go Away Kitty." (Hey, Henry asked who our former president & vice president were and I *may* have given him my opinion on them....)

[True Mama]'s son just said, randomly, "Boys are smarter than girls." GAH!

[True Mama] just got back from Winkie's where she went to buy birthday gifts. Henry started picking up toys he HAD TO HAVE and said, "If you'll just buy these from me, I'll be happy" and "If you buy them I'll stop whining." Good Lord.

[True Mama]'s son told her last night that he wants her to live forever, or at least until *he* dies. He said that means I have to eat healthy and not have ANY sugar.

[True Mama] was at the lakefront with Henry yesterday when he noticed a guy with no shirt on whose nipples were pierced. Henry pointed, then said, "I didn't know you could do that."

[True Mama]'s son just said, "Mom, why are you using your tired voice?"

[True Mama] put on her husband's old Austin City Limits t-shirt (a bit too small for him, but good for my pregnant self) and Henry said, "Mom, you look ug-a-ly in Daddy's old shirt. People are going to laugh at you."


June 2010:

[True Mama] sent her son in to wake up her husband at 9am this morning and say, "Daddy, Happy Father's Day, it's time to wake up, mommy wants to go back to bed."

[True Mama] is proud of her son. Henry said, "Jack (our 10-year old neighbor) thinks plastic comes from trees, but I told him that it's made from oil."

[True Mama] was loading the dehydrator up with strawberry slices when Henry came in the kitchen and said, "What are you doing to that poor dehydrator?"

[True Mama] was taking Henry to Lake Park when he said, "I hope there aren't any other kids there. I would like some peace at the park."

‎[True Mama]'s son was trying to think of the name of a city he'd heard me talk about and said, "I don't know how to say it, but if I had to pronounce it I'd say 'Hamsterdam'."


July 2010:

‎[True Mama]'s son saw fireworks for the first time last night. Henry's reaction? "The sky is even more fun than normal!"

[True Mama] let Henry pick out two pieces of candy from his parade stash this morning. As he carried them to the table he said, "Just HOLDING them makes me happy."

[True Mama] was asked by Henry to make him some toast with butter, mayo, apple butter and grape jelly. I groaned and he said, "Mom, muster up all your courage and do it!"

‎[True Mama]'s son was trying to get me to make a craft project with him. After I repeatedly said that I did not want to, he finally said, "You CAN do it! You just don't WANT to!"

[True Mama] has, in her zeal to teach Henry not to waste, created a little hoarder. He refuses to let us throw away candy wrappers, plastic bottles, tiny scraps of paper and even carpet fuzzies/dust bunnies because "I can use them for an art project!" Lord help my clutter-hating soul...

[True Mama]: This is a typical conversation with Henry:
HENRY: Mom, what happens if they're making a ball out of a pig bladder but it's filled with pee?
ME: I guess they drain the pee out.
HENRY: But what if they *can't* drain the pee out? Like if there's no opening?
ME: Maybe they cut a hole in it.
HENRY: What if you can't cut a hole in it?
ME: Maybe they burn a hole.
HENRY: But what if it can't be cut *or* burned?
ME: I guess they'd have to find another pig's bladder.
HENRY: What if there aren't any other pigs?
ME: Maybe they'd use another animal.
HENRY: What if there aren't any other animals?
ME: They go to Target and buy a ball.
HENRY: No, they can't do that. What then?
ME: I guess they give up and take a nap.
HENRY: No, they can't give up. What then?
ME: I don't know, Henry.
HENRY: Tell me! What's your guess?!
ME: I have no idea. You've stumped me.
HENRY: Tell me! You have to answer!

[True Mama]‎'s son dragged his arm in some syrup at breakfast this morning, and when his dad said, "Oh, Henry!" he replied, "I'll worry about me; you worry about you."

‎[True Mama]'s son ran in from playing outside and said, "Mom! It's raining!" I replied, "Well, it's supposed to rain today," and Henry said, "I guess the weather report is right for once."


August 2010:

‎[True Mama]'s son just said, "Mom, you're the best mom in the universe. Without you, I would cry."

[True Mama] discovered last night that James and the Giant Peach is too intense for my sensitive five-year old. After many tears, screeching and "SKIP THIS PART!" we switched to All-of-a-Kind Family.

‎[True Mama]'s son just said, "I know more than Brooke (seven-year old neighbor girl) does. She didn't even know about the Hindenburg!"

‎[True Mama]'s son just said, "I'll do everything I can to make you happy." Aw. I love five.

[True Mama]'s son had a pee accident the other day because his penis was stuck to his scrotum and he couldn't get it unstuck in time. Oh, the things I never thought I'd have to think about...

Swimming Against the Tide

Henry has never liked being in water.

The only way he'd tolerate bathtime as a newborn is if I went in the tub with him. When he was big enough to be bathed without me holding him, he stood up the entire time until he was about four.


He was okay with his wading pool as long as he could stand up in it, but he did not care for regular swimming pools at all, not even when someone he trusted was holding him mostly out of the water.


And sprinklers? Forget about it. Water down near his feet was bad enough; water squirting up at him was out of the question.

But then suddenly, this summer, he began to enjoy playing in swimming pools. One day we stopped by his grandparents' house and my mother-in-law suggested we walk down to their condo association's pool just to check it out. I expected Henry to walk around the edge of it as usual, but instead he immediately began to walk down the stairs fully dressed. I think he would have gotten completely wet if I hadn't stopped him.

A few weeks later we went to a hotel with a pool and once again Henry plunged right in. He took rides around the pool on Daddy's back, played in water up to his chest, and had fun climbing out the side of the pool and then walking down the stairs to get in again.

We took him back to my in-laws' pool after that, bringing kickboards and an inflatable swimming tube. It was crazy how suddenly fearless Henry was. At one point he even went under the water; he was hanging on to a kickboard with one arm and the tube with another but walked out too far and his head went under. My husband grabbed him and sat him on the side of the pool, and although Henry coughed for a bit, he didn't seem fazed at all and wanted to get right back in.


All of which made me think that maybe Henry was ready for swimming lessons. I grew up taking lessons all summer long, and while I think my parents overdid it, I do believe that knowing how to swim is pretty important.

So I signed Henry up for eight sessions of thirty minute lessons spread out over two weeks. He was not happy about it, as I expected, but I was able to coax him there.

At first it seemed to be going well. He walked with his classmates over to meet the teacher, and when she invited him to sit on the side of the pool he asked if he could walk down the stairs instead. He started to head down, and then suddenly he freaked out and came over by me. He clung to me for the rest of the class, despite the teacher's gentle invitations to join them.

I agonized about what to do. Should I force Henry to follow through with the lessons, even if he was only going to watch? Should I bribe him or try to impress upon him how important it was to know how to swim?

In the end none of these things felt right to me. I thought about what huge strides Henry had made from one summer to the next, all on his own. How he hates to be "taught" things. How we're unschooling because I believe that he'll do what he needs to do when he's ready.

I recalled the years and years of swimming lessons I had and how much I disliked them. I never go swimming now if I can help it. My husband, on the other hand, grew up with a pool in his backyard and had few to no lessons, but still enjoys swimming with his kids.

I realized that Henry will learn when he's ready to learn and in whatever way he wants. It doesn't have to be by a certified instructor when he's five.

I mean, look at that smile:


Why would I want to interfere with that?

Ultrasound

I had my first "regular" ultrasound today, just two days shy of turning 25 weeks. We had to wait almost forty minutes for the doctor, but it was completely worth it. Not only did we get some amazing photos, but the doctor told us in every way possible that everything looks perfect.

Oh, and it's a boy. :)

When I was pregnant with Henry I could not imagine being the mother of anything but a girl; now I can't imagine not being the mother of boys. I'm pretty excited about having another boy, actually.




And I cannot wait to hold that little hand.

Five!

Henry turned five today. Just a few days ago I looked at him playing in the living room and he suddenly looked so old to me. My baby boy is now just a boy. Sniff.

I have to say, though, that I'm pleased to see his behavior is mellowing out compared to a year ago. When he turned four he (apparently) had a burst of testosterone that led to scary fits of aggression. He still he has the occasional outburst, but he's learning to manage his frustrations, apologize when he acts badly and even show appreciation sometimes.


Lately he's been calling people the "best in the universe" -- as in, "You're my best Mom in the universe." It warms my heart. I'm so happy he's my son.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

I hate to compare my kids before the second one is even born, but this pregnancy has been very different than the last one so far. Beyond the possible miscarriage scare at seven weeks and the fainting spell at nearly twelve weeks, I've suffered constipation, round ligament pain and back problems (which I have normally, but not while pregnant with Henry). And possibly most annoying of all, my left ear keeps plugging up to the point that I can hear my own heartbeat and breathing.

On the plus side my complexion is flawless, whereas when I was pregnant with Henry my skin was so broken out I resorted to using Proactiv.

Okay, so that's really the only improvement over last time that I can think of. But I've started feeling the baby move in the past few weeks, and having a physical reminder of the little one inside me more than makes up for it.

Five Reasons to Stop Saying "Good Job!"

By Alfie Kohn

Hang out at a playground, visit a school, or show up at a child’s birthday party, and there’s one phrase you can count on hearing repeatedly: "Good job!" Even tiny infants are praised for smacking their hands together ("Good clapping!"). Many of us blurt out these judgments of our children to the point that it has become almost a verbal tic.

Plenty of books and articles advise us against relying on punishment, from spanking to forcible isolation ("time out"). Occasionally someone will even ask us to rethink the practice of bribing children with stickers or food. But you’ll have to look awfully hard to find a discouraging word about what is euphemistically called positive reinforcement.

Lest there be any misunderstanding, the point here is not to call into question the importance of supporting and encouraging children, the need to love them and hug them and help them feel good about themselves. Praise, however, is a different story entirely. Here's why.

1. Manipulating children. Suppose you offer a verbal reward to reinforce the behavior of a two-year-old who eats without spilling, or a five-year-old who cleans up her art supplies. Who benefits from this? Is it possible that telling kids they’ve done a good job may have less to do with their emotional needs than with our convenience?

Rheta DeVries, a professor of education at the University of Northern Iowa, refers to this as "sugar-coated control." Very much like tangible rewards – or, for that matter, punishments – it’s a way of doing something to children to get them to comply with our wishes. It may be effective at producing this result (at least for a while), but it’s very different from working with kids – for example, by engaging them in conversation about what makes a classroom (or family) function smoothly, or how other people are affected by what we have done -- or failed to do. The latter approach is not only more respectful but more likely to help kids become thoughtful people.

The reason praise can work in the short run is that young children are hungry for our approval. But we have a responsibility not to exploit that dependence for our own convenience. A "Good job!" to reinforce something that makes our lives a little easier can be an example of taking advantage of children’s dependence. Kids may also come to feel manipulated by this, even if they can’t quite explain why.

2. Creating praise junkies. To be sure, not every use of praise is a calculated tactic to control children’s behavior. Sometimes we compliment kids just because we’re genuinely pleased by what they’ve done. Even then, however, it’s worth looking more closely. Rather than bolstering a child’s self-esteem, praise may increase kids’ dependence on us. The more we say, "I like the way you…." or "Good ______ing," the more kids come to rely on our evaluations, our decisions about what’s good and bad, rather than learning to form their own judgments. It leads them to measure their worth in terms of what will lead us to smile and dole out some more approval.

Mary Budd Rowe, a researcher at the University of Florida, discovered that students who were praised lavishly by their teachers were more tentative in their responses, more apt to answer in a questioning tone of voice ("Um, seven?"). They tended to back off from an idea they had proposed as soon as an adult disagreed with them. And they were less likely to persist with difficult tasks or share their ideas with other students.

In short, "Good job!" doesn’t reassure children; ultimately, it makes them feel less secure. It may even create a vicious circle such that the more we slather on the praise, the more kids seem to need it, so we praise them some more. Sadly, some of these kids will grow into adults who continue to need someone else to pat them on the head and tell them whether what they did was OK. Surely this is not what we want for our daughters and sons.

3. Stealing a child’s pleasure. Apart from the issue of dependence, a child deserves to take delight in her accomplishments, to feel pride in what she’s learned how to do. She also deserves to decide when to feel that way. Every time we say, "Good job!", though, we’re telling a child how to feel.

To be sure, there are times when our evaluations are appropriate and our guidance is necessary -- especially with toddlers and preschoolers. But a constant stream of value judgments is neither necessary nor useful for children’s development. Unfortunately, we may not have realized that "Good job!" is just as much an evaluation as "Bad job!" The most notable feature of a positive judgment isn’t that it’s positive, but that it’s a judgment. And people, including kids, don’t like being judged.

I cherish the occasions when my daughter manages to do something for the first time, or does something better than she’s ever done it before. But I try to resist the knee-jerk tendency to say, "Good job!" because I don’t want to dilute her joy. I want her to share her pleasure with me, not look to me for a verdict. I want her to exclaim, "I did it!" (which she often does) instead of asking me uncertainly, "Was that good?"

4. Losing interest. "Good painting!" may get children to keep painting for as long as we keep watching and praising. But, warns Lilian Katz, one of the country’s leading authorities on early childhood education, "once attention is withdrawn, many kids won’t touch the activity again." Indeed, an impressive body of scientific research has shown that the more we reward people for doing something, the more they tend to lose interest in whatever they had to do to get the reward. Now the point isn’t to draw, to read, to think, to create – the point is to get the goody, whether it’s an ice cream, a sticker, or a "Good job!"

In a troubling study conducted by Joan Grusec at the University of Toronto, young children who were frequently praised for displays of generosity tended to be slightly less generous on an everyday basis than other children were. Every time they had heard "Good sharing!" or "I’m so proud of you for helping," they became a little less interested in sharing or helping. Those actions came to be seen not as something valuable in their own right but as something they had to do to get that reaction again from an adult. Generosity became a means to an end.

Does praise motivate kids? Sure. It motivates kids to get praise. Alas, that’s often at the expense of commitment to whatever they were doing that prompted the praise.

5. Reducing achievement. As if it weren’t bad enough that "Good job!" can undermine independence, pleasure, and interest, it can also interfere with how good a job children actually do. Researchers keep finding that kids who are praised for doing well at a creative task tend to stumble at the next task – and they don’t do as well as children who weren’t praised to begin with.

Why does this happen? Partly because the praise creates pressure to "keep up the good work" that gets in the way of doing so. Partly because their interest in what they’re doing may have declined. Partly because they become less likely to take risks – a prerequisite for creativity – once they start thinking about how to keep those positive comments coming.

More generally, "Good job!" is a remnant of an approach to psychology that reduces all of human life to behaviors that can be seen and measured. Unfortunately, this ignores the thoughts, feelings, and values that lie behind behaviors. For example, a child may share a snack with a friend as a way of attracting praise, or as a way of making sure the other child has enough to eat. Praise for sharing ignores these different motives. Worse, it actually promotes the less desirable motive by making children more likely to fish for praise in the future.

* * *

Once you start to see praise for what it is – and what it does – these constant little evaluative eruptions from adults start to produce the same effect as fingernails being dragged down a blackboard. You begin to root for a child to give his teachers or parents a taste of their own treacle by turning around to them and saying (in the same saccharine tone of voice), "Good praising!"

Still, it’s not an easy habit to break. It can seem strange, at least at first, to stop praising; it can feel as though you’re being chilly or withholding something. But that, it soon becomes clear, suggests that we praise more because we need to say it than because children need to hear it. Whenever that’s true, it’s time to rethink what we’re doing.

What kids do need is unconditional support, love with no strings attached. That’s not just different from praise – it’s the opposite of praise. "Good job!" is conditional. It means we’re offering attention and acknowledgement and approval for jumping through our hoops, for doing things that please us.

This point, you’ll notice, is very different from a criticism that some people offer to the effect that we give kids too much approval, or give it too easily. They recommend that we become more miserly with our praise and demand that kids "earn" it. But the real problem isn’t that children expect to be praised for everything they do these days. It’s that we’re tempted to take shortcuts, to manipulate kids with rewards instead of explaining and helping them to develop needed skills and good values.

So what’s the alternative? That depends on the situation, but whatever we decide to say instead has to be offered in the context of genuine affection and love for who kids are rather than for what they’ve done. When unconditional support is present, "Good job!" isn’t necessary; when it’s absent, "Good job!" won’t help.

If we’re praising positive actions as a way of discouraging misbehavior, this is unlikely to be effective for long. Even when it works, we can’t really say the child is now "behaving himself"; it would be more accurate to say the praise is behaving him. The alternative is to work with the child, to figure out the reasons he’s acting that way. We may have to reconsider our own requests rather than just looking for a way to get kids to obey. (Instead of using "Good job!" to get a four-year-old to sit quietly through a long class meeting or family dinner, perhaps we should ask whether it’s reasonable to expect a child to do so.)

We also need to bring kids in on the process of making decisions. If a child is doing something that disturbs others, then sitting down with her later and asking, "What do you think we can do to solve this problem?" will likely be more effective than bribes or threats. It also helps a child learn how to solve problems and teaches that her ideas and feelings are important. Of course, this process takes time and talent, care and courage. Tossing off a "Good job!" when the child acts in the way we deem appropriate takes none of those things, which helps to explain why "doing to" strategies are a lot more popular than "working with" strategies.

And what can we say when kids just do something impressive? Consider three possible responses:

* Say nothing. Some people insist a helpful act must be "reinforced" because, secretly or unconsciously, they believe it was a fluke. If children are basically evil, then they have to be given an artificial reason for being nice (namely, to get a verbal reward). But if that cynicism is unfounded – and a lot of research suggests that it is – then praise may not be necessary.

* Say what you saw. A simple, evaluation-free statement ("You put your shoes on by yourself" or even just "You did it") tells your child that you noticed. It also lets her take pride in what she did. In other cases, a more elaborate description may make sense. If your child draws a picture, you might provide feedback – not judgment – about what you noticed: "This mountain is huge!" "Boy, you sure used a lot of purple today!"

If a child does something caring or generous, you might gently draw his attention to the effect of his action on the other person: "Look at Abigail’s face! She seems pretty happy now that you gave her some of your snack." This is completely different from praise, where the emphasis is on how you feel about her sharing

* Talk less, ask more. Even better than descriptions are questions. Why tell him what part of his drawing impressed you when you can ask him what he likes best about it? Asking "What was the hardest part to draw?" or "How did you figure out how to make the feet the right size?" is likely to nourish his interest in drawing. Saying "Good job!", as we’ve seen, may have exactly the opposite effect.

This doesn’t mean that all compliments, all thank-you’s, all expressions of delight are harmful. We need to consider our motives for what we say (a genuine expression of enthusiasm is better than a desire to manipulate the child’s future behavior) as well as the actual effects of doing so. Are our reactions helping the child to feel a sense of control over her life -- or to constantly look to us for approval? Are they helping her to become more excited about what she’s doing in its own right – or turning it into something she just wants to get through in order to receive a pat on the head

It’s not a matter of memorizing a new script, but of keeping in mind our long-term goals for our children and watching for the effects of what we say. The bad news is that the use of positive reinforcement really isn’t so positive. The good news is that you don’t have to evaluate in order to encourage.

Copyright © 2001 by Alfie Kohn.

Fourth of July

We had a wonderful Fourth of July with Henry this year. He'd been to the parade our community puts on every year since we moved here, but he had yet to see any fireworks. He was always very sensitive to loud noises and that coupled with the late hour made us decide to wait. But this year he just seemed that much more mature and ready, and he was very excited about it.


As we sat on the blanket in the park, waiting for the fireworks to begin, though, Henry started to droop. He was laying on the ground, laying on me, saying, "I don't want to be here anymore. I want to be home."

It was pretty pathetic, but I knew that once the fireworks started he would perk right up. And sure enough, at the first explosion he sat straight up with the biggest grin on his face.

"Spaghetti in the sky!" he said.

And then: "The sky is even more fun than normal!"

He wore his sound-dampening headphones but kept lifting up the edges of them to get a sense of just how loud the explosions really were. The friends sitting around us all asked Henry if he liked his first fireworks and he was enthusiastic in his response.

I spent the next few days rationing candy from Henry's parade stash. This morning I allowed him to pick out two pieces of candy and as he carried them to the table he said, "Just HOLDING them makes me happy."

All in all, it was a successful holiday weekend.