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January 25, 2008 Frances Friday: Dreams 
There she lay, sleeping; her little limbs splayed out, her face still, flat on her back, fingers curling slightly and motionless. I knew I would have to wake her soon--we were already late. But first I watched her. Soon I stroked her cheek and brushed her bangs off her forehead--they need a trim; her eyes opened. For a moment she looked as if she might cry, then pushed herself up and bounced towards the footstool at the side of her bed. "I'm going to get a new eraser!" "Oh?" "Yeah!" She clambered down; I wrapped my arms around her and picked her up. "Maybe we should go downstairs and get some breakfast first," I said. The night before, when we were supposedly getting into pyjamas, she indulged in a favourite passtime called "throw the clothing on the floor." This irritates me, for what is probably no good reason, but I have tried to institute a no-throwing rule, that night with little success. She took off her shirt and threw it full-strength at the floor--this after she had already thrown her socks and been reminded of the rule. "Frances!" I said. "Are you supposed to be throwing your clothes?" "Noooooo." "You threw it, you can pick it up. Go over and pick it up and put it in the wash." Slowly, she did; when she turned back from the hamper and I held her nightgown out to her, she started to cry. "It wasn't nice!" she said. "You yelled at me. It hurt my ears!" "I didn't yell at you, Frances. I just told you to put your shirt in the laundry." "It hurt my ears!" She clutched at them and sobbed. "It wasn't nice! You shouldn't yell!" I didn't yell. I hardly even raised my voice, but clearly that tack was getting me nowhere. "Did it make you sad, that I was upset?" She nodded. "Well, that's ok. Look, sometimes you'll do things that I don't like and I will get upset, but here we are, and everything's ok now. Right? Let's get your nightgown on." She cried still. "I need a kleenex." I passed her one. "Do you need a hug?" She nodded, and I pulled her on to my shoulder. "It's ok, kiddo. You threw your clothes, something you know you're not supposed to do, and I got upset. That will happen sometimes. But you fixed it! You picked it up and put it in the laundry, and here we are, and everything is ok. See?" She is crushed if I so much as raise my voice by a decibel; she never even needs time-outs. Instead of wondering why my discipline methods seem ineffective and nothing works, I have to consciously bring myself to heel and not ever inadvertently break her spirit by actually yelling. Earlier in the evening, talking to her father on speakerphone, she said, "A didn't say sorry, and she didn't say she didn't mean to." "Oh?" Her father said. "That wasn't nice." "What was it she didn't say sorry for?" I said. "She made a mess on the table," said Frances. "So did I. But I said I was sorry, and I said I didn't mean it." "I see?" I said. "That was very good. I'm glad you apologized." And in the background, Erik chuckling over the phone. Frances is a girl with a very strong commitment to form. Lucky me. Except her mother is not, and one day I will be the target of her moral appraisal. Posted by Andrea at January 25, 2008 8:13 AM under Frances Friday EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments A half an hour ago, I had a similar episode with my son, getting him ready for pre-school. He got upset and needed a snuggle because I said "quickly!" when I was trying to get his pants on and he'd just lurched away from me. The "quickly!" technically wasn't a yell, but he clearly was responding to the change in my tone. Fortunately, the snuggle helped us both regain our equilibrium. And remind me that a tone change NEVER speeds things up. Posted by: Mary L. at January 25, 2008 9:35 AM
She is so sweet! I read these posts and always find myself saying "bless her heart" to the monitor. I have had similar conversations regarding the laundry in the floor. It upsets everyone in the house that I do not want laundry on the floor. Except, of course, the baby who thinks everything should go down the chute. Posted by: ccw at January 25, 2008 10:38 AM
Your post made me chuckle and think about the difference between my two children. My son (the eldest) would cry if I so much as looked cross eyed at him. In his two's and three's I never had to give him a time out. He would be devestated by the thought that he gained my disaproval. My daughter, however, is a different story. She's hardy! She and 'time-out' are well aquainted! I remeber with both of them, when they were each around three, I started reading 'Mama, do you love me' and it helped them understand that I could be mad at them about something and still love them deeply and fiercely. Getting in trouble still sucked, but it would be ok in the end. They are funny, sweet, little things. Posted by: Isabel at January 25, 2008 11:52 AM
This exact scene could have played out at our house. I love the way that you work things out with her. It's the same approach we try to have, too...I've never been one to lay down the law for the sake of it being the law. Posted by: NotSoSage at January 25, 2008 12:17 PM
We get a lot of "you hurt my feelings," but it is still my job to keep the kid in line. We talk about the difference between meanness and enforcing rules. Hard distinction for them to make at an age where everything feels like a reprimand. Posted by: Emily R at January 25, 2008 2:35 PM
Now this side of Frances is so familiar to me...in the form of my own girls, especially my oldest, Lady Liberty, aka Arbiter of all that is Just (or Not). Posted by: Julie Pippert at January 25, 2008 2:59 PM
Sounds like you handled it well. Posted by: purple_kangaroo at January 27, 2008 5:54 PM
I feel that way about my daughter, too -- that it won't be long before she'll be telling me what's what. I think it would be hard to have such a sensitive child. My daughter doesn't like to get in trouble but more because she gets embarrassed; and my son, he's like a wall. After 15 minutes of my fury he'll say Are you angry? in surprise. Posted by: Jennifer at January 27, 2008 8:34 PM
Oh, the thought of those big blue eyes spilling over just breaks my heart. You're such a good mama to talk to her about how it's ok for people to be upset, and it doesn't change anything. Bless both of you. Posted by: yankee,transferred at January 28, 2008 11:38 AM
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Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "In this world, there is nothing softer or thinner than water. But to compel the hard and unyielding, it has no equal. That the weak overcomes the strong, that the hard gives way to the gentle -- this everyone knows. Yet no one acts accordingly." Lao Tse Email Frances! frances AT athenadreaming DOT org You can email her mother too (that's me):
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