Across The Water

I’ve learned that there is an ebb and flow to every relationship. As my years of motherhood carry on, I know that this is perhaps even more pronounced with a child, sometimes feeling totally connected, other times letting the frustrations of life get in the way.

For the past weeks I’m in a place where I completely adore being with Annie. I know a large part of it is that Markus is around as we get ready to return to Canada, and that gives both Annie and I space to focus less on the daily routine and more on enjoying each other’s company. I’m back to baby-gazing at her several times a day. “Why are you looking at me?” “Because I love you so much.” So far that is received with a smile or an “I love you too”…I expect the eye-rolling to being any day now.

It is just so much fun right now! And interesting. Her brain is working non-stop and I love hearing the latest thing she comes up with.  We are not very strict about monitoring her tv watching, so she often comes up with gems like, “You are only dead when no one remembers you.” O…..K. There is lots of singing and dancing around the house and oddles of laughter every day.

Annie is into miming/charades right now. A few days ago we were treated to a silent, 1-minute run down of her whole day. (Stretch to wake up, eat, get dressed, go to school, dance, sing, dance, go to sleep.) The funniest part was when we were guessing what she was acting out. Some were easy. Some were quite literal. (“What am I doing?” “Um, dancing?” “No, pointing my foot”, she says as she stands there pointing her foot. Of course!) But then she started shaking her hips. “Dancing?”, I ask with my go-to answer. “No! I’m Jello!” I had tears.

Earlier in the week was this:

First when I was invisible I chose you and Daddy, because I wanted to see how that goes. I saw that you wanted a baby. (Very much my girl”) Then I was born and was zero, then one, then two, then three, then four and now I’m five and a half. First I was invisible with all the other invisible kids. Then I chose you and it started all over again.

Now, this is exactly my belief, so I’m sure I’ve planted some of those ideas in her little brain. But I also know for certain that I haven’t articulated this in such a coherent or detailed way. And since we live in the deep heart of Catholic land, it isn’t like anyone else is saying these things to her. So, do you think that means it is true?? Ah well, we’ll never know, will we?…at least not in this life. (“I wanted to see how that goes”….priceless!!)

I’m even appreciating the less jolly times these days. With some coaching from a psychologist friend, we are very big into acknowledging feelings in this house. It is amazing both how much it helps in really any situation, but also how much it allows me to bond with Annie. “You are really frustrated!” “That must have hurt your feelings.” “Were you embarrassed when they said that?” No dismissing, or distractions, or helpful suggestions. At least, not until the emotions have been  talked about. It is such a great way to start dealing with any situation. (When I’m not losing it myself, which of course still happens.)

Our lives are so turbulently emotional right now. It is amazing to me that amidst all this chaos I’ve found a time of deep connection with Annie. I am thankful.

I bumped into a few articles over the years that have suggested praising your children too much can turn them into praise junkies, always seeking external motivation.

This never sounded right to me and I was all “I ain’t buying what your selling!”, continuing to tell Annie everyday how amazing and smart and beautiful I think she is.

Yesterday, however, I came across this Harvard Business Review post that talked about praising children’s efforts instead of their attributes. The author sites a study that showed children praised for their efforts did better after a failure (were willing to try hard again) vs. children praised for their ability. (I must just not be good at this thing.)

The author’s argument is that all abilities are not innate and unchangeable, so it is important to let kids know that their efforts can make a difference. This makes sense to me. I remember always thinking I couldn’t draw, so therefore I was no good at art. Well, guess what? I’m great at artistic things, just not drawing, but I didn’t figure that out until I was well into adulthood. I don’t know where the original belief came from, but it has been there as long as I can remember. And maybe with a few classes I could be decent at drawing too. Who knows! So I’ve seen this limiting reinforcement in action.

Although I’m sure I’ll keep telling Annie how brilliant and beautiful I think she is (changing that behaviour may be beyond me!), I am going to pay more attention and make sure that I also talk about effort, and trying, and failing. Because one thing I know for sure is that humans have an enormous capacity for growth and change, and it is my job to make sure Annie knows that too.

It is a lazy, lazy Sunday at our house. This is about the sum total of our busyness today.

Whew! I’m exhausted. Off to bed.

I’ve starting about 4 different blog posts tonight and don’t like any of the ideas. I guess some days are just like that, lacking in inspiration.

I can’t even tell you about my day, as I sat in front of a computer working the whole time. I didn’t get out of my pajamas until Markus picked me up to go visit his uncle at 5:30 p.m.

I’ll have to resort to a random Annie photo.

I walked into the kitchen one day and saw this:

“Where did you learn that?” I asked.

“T.V.” she replied.

And they say television rots your brain!

Well, I can’t say that this was a great day…although the auto-generated title to this post is making me grin: 2011/11/11/11-11-11. I see why it is called corduroy day.

We are working on selling the cafe, and the negotiations aren’t going as smoothly as we hoped. All is not lost, but there will be a lot more backing and forthing than I had anticipated. NaBloPoMo suggests making three wishes this day. Right now I feel like wishing for stability, stability, and more stability.

Or maybe two times stability…and a third wish that my girl and I can always make each other smile.

5-years-old is such a fun age for lots of reasons. But one of the main ones is that I get to witness the transition between little child and big girl.

Some days I find Annie practicing her super-model poses (not taught by me, I swear!)…

And other days she still likes to snuggle up in the laundry basket!

What a monkey! I think I’ll keep her.

Well, I thought that we would be done with the sunnier weather a couple of weeks ago, but the last few days have been bright and clear. So on Sunday we decided to go for a hike.

Markus hadn’t been up this particular mountain before, and when he scouted it on the website, it said 60 minutes. That usually means 60 adult minutes, so often at least 80 kid minutes. Well, up we went. And up. And up. We didn’t check exactly when we left, but it was well over an hour and half hiking. And Annie made it almost the whole way, with only about 10 minutes on Dad’s shoulders. (She is heavy and that just doesn’t really work for a long time anymore!) I was super impressed. She talked, non-stop, for well over 2 hours. But Markus and I were there to spell each other off for the response part of the conversation and it got her up to the top.

There isn’t much Annie likes better than running down a hill. However, after 15 minutes of running and waiting and running and waiting, she did manage to get a blister. There was therefore some complaining back to the car, but I’ll take it for a good workout and a day in the fresh air.

I was so surprised that there were still baby sheep and goats on the hills….aren’t they supposed to be born in Spring? Anyway, they were super cute! As were Markus and Annie, of course.

Annie has a great imagination. She can keep her and us entertained for quite some time with her tales. However, sometimes her imagination is just a wee bit too close to the truth and/or she is using her tales to get something she wants. (My mom said I could have chocolate for dinner!) One might even call it lying.

I’ve thought a lot about how to deal with this. I don’t want to squash her fantasy life, which I think is spectacular, but I do need to address the comments from her teacher and her friends that Annie can’t quite be trusted in what she says.

My current strategy is to let Annie tell any tale she wants, but when another person asks, either adult or child, if that is true Annie MUST then say if the story is made up or not. When Annie explains (on questioning) that the story is just in her imagination, I reinforce the behaviour with comments like, “What an interesting story and tell me more!”

I’ve filled the teacher in on my plan and she is going to give it a try at school. We’ll see how it goes.

I do want to be very careful with this, though, as sometimes made up stories are simply awesome.