PUT SOME TEETH IN IT!

[Life Is Too Short To Fight in the Bathroom]

Yes, life will get more complex.  Yes, there will be major challenges.  Yes, sometimes life or death issues will loom.  But for now most parents of younger children would be happy just to get their kids to brush their teeth. 

At one workshop we met one such mom who was at her wit’s end with her 6 year old.  For nearly half a decade she’d tried helping, demonstrating, brow-beating, role modeling, screaming, threatening, reasoning, arguing (the standard parent skill set).   Nothing had worked.  Flavored dentifrice, vibrating apprentice, tunes, textures, timers – nothing!  

It had evolved into the classic nightly Mom vs. Kid control contest, and guess which one of them was unhappy.  Georgie was having control, while Mom was having a conniptic fit!  It had reached the point where, in frustration, she actually grabbed the tooth brush [while still in his hand] and smashed the paste onto the shaking brush!

“Are you going to brush now?!” she screamed. 

Photo by Ruthie Hansen

“YES!” he responded in a matching tone, and he did.  But not before knocking the paste off into the sink.

She said she might have blacked out at that point because she doesn’t remember what she did next.  Perhaps her head just exploded.

A suggestion was proffered that she break the cycle of crazy-making.  What was Georgie’s favorite thing in the world?  Going fishing!  So rather than tell him what HE was going to do, Mom was going to change her approach.  Her new script was, “Boys who brush their teeth every night before bed go fishing with Daddy on Saturday.” 

To say she was skeptical is an understatement.  She mumbled her parting words as she left the meeting: “It’ll never work.”

At our next meeting when I asked her how it had gone, she struggled for words.  With eyes open wide in astonishment she described Georgie’s response: “Cool.  Can I put stickers on the calendar so I can remember?”  And the war was over!

Working smarter, not harder, Mom had been willing to finally share some control and ended up with all of it.  Saturday was blissful.  Georgie had his self respect, clean teeth, fun with Dad, and a trout!

For smaller children, a musical approach to sparkling teeth and stress free brushing is:

THE TOOTH BRUSHING SONG

(sung to “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”)

Brush, brush, brush your teeth.

Brush them left and right.

Brush them up and brush them down

To keep them clean and bright.

Parents can stand next to the brusher and sing 2 or 3 verses.  If he’s old enough you can let the child decide [more control sharing].  After a while the words, “Go brush your teeth” become extinct as the parent needs only begin to hum the little tune and smile :)

Another Dad began singing the A,B,C song to his little boy [tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”] when there were only a couple of baby teeth in his tiny mouth.  Now that incisors and molars are in place, Jack not only has sparkling teeth but a memorized alphabet…sung twice through at each brushing. No need to say “keep brushing” when you know you have to “sing with me” the second time before putting the brush down.  And who doesn’t love hearing a daddy sing?

One clever mom announced to her hesitant brusher, “I give dessert to kids who brush their teeth every night,” and posted a colorful chart by the sink to track the progress.  Notice Mom has said what SHE will do – not what HER CHILD has to do…and he got to pick which stickers to use on “his” chart.

And, depending upon the brusher’s age, how about a litany of small choices that empower the child and ennoble the adult as you head toward the goal line of clean teeth together? Breathe first then say…

Do you want to:

…brush first and have me brush second?

…have me put on the toothpaste or do you want to do it?

…start on the bottom teeth or the top?

…have me sing A,B,C two or three times?

…use your left hand or your right?

Give two choices – either of which are positive and will get the job done.

These choices are NOT helpful:

…brush or have your teeth rot away.

…brush or you can’t go to Disneyland.

…brush or I’ll make sure you’ll never eat candy again.

…brush or I’ll just have the dentist pull them out!

Try to remember that in years to come, you’ll relish the days when trying to assure a sparkling smile was your only problem.  Take another breath and repeat the old adage, “This too shall pass.”

WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE TO TREASURE?

I just wrote my grown-up, successful, well-adjusted, professional daughter an apology note.  Nothing terribly egregious by all estimates.  It was “for keeping such a big collection of grades, report cards, and ‘official’ paper work – not enough of your writing.”

In sorting through some old files, I was amazed and chagrinned at the items I chose relegate to the “keepers” category.  I’m sure it made sense at the time, but now I wonder: “What was I thinking?”  “Who was this child?”  “Was I really paying attention?”  “What were my priorities – or what must they have appeared to her?”

There’s a scale on the elementary report cards where the teacher indicates that their student is “excellent” “satisfactory” or “needs improvement.” Was there a place where the teacher gets to rate their own degree of success (or lack thereof) in reaching their student?  Would that effort rate an “excellent” “satisfactory” or “needs improvement”?

Did I ask my child how she felt about her grade?  Was it fair? Was it accurate? How would you have graded yourself?  What changes might be made?  What can you do next time? How did the interaction with your teacher might affect your performance?

As I unearth the half-page, slightly yellowed certificate entitling her to move from 2^nd to 3^rd grade [and another from 6^th to 7^th grade], I wonder now if I wondered then: how did she feel about herself, was she excited about the next challenge, did she worry about what the upcoming year would bring?

HOW DID I RESPOND TO THE REPORT CARD…?

…which reported that my child, “has to be more receptive and put forth more effort in [gym] class.”  [Really?!  This is a concern?]

…which reported “very little participation in class discussion.”  Did I ask her If answering questions was embarrassing?  How comfortable she was in class?  And what if I’d known then that she’s was a true introvert.

…which indicated after changing schools that she “needs to be less focused on her friends”   Did I ask how it felt to be in a new school…and middle school, at that!?  If the kids were friendly?  What I could do to help?

…which indicated that she “wasn’t sure of multiplication processes.”  Could I have relaxed knowing that she’d eventually master those and end up as a CFO with an MBA and a CPA?

…which suggested that I check her homework “to see if work has been completed and is ready to be returned.”  Did I chat with her about whose homework it is?  Why and if it’s important? How she planned on dealing with it?

…which indicated that “spelling scores are consistently low.”  Could I have guessed that spell check would have eliminated that as a primary concern and allow her gift for writing to blossom? What about letting her know that it’s the heart and beauty of what she’s saying that’s important rather than the arrangement of the letters on the page?

…which lauded her for receiving 3 high citizenship marks during the grading period.  Did I remember to sing her praises and revel with her, or did I remind her about getting ready for the standardized testing that was approaching?

…which allowed me to access her thought processes when one particularly astute teacher provided a form for “student self-evaluation.”  I hope I took enough time to read it carefully with her and ask her to expand on her terse, telling, and thoughtful answers.

…which commented on her poem, “The Light Goes Out.” She wrote of the nightmare she had.  Did I find there why she was [and still is] afraid of being alone in the dark?  Had I read it carefully and acknowledged the very real fear she felt, we might have face it together.  Maybe there really was a big hairy arm sticking out from beneath her bed!

..which felt an entire quarter’s worth of 4^th academic effort could be appropriately summarized by “Report on Mark Twain was very good.”  Did I notice that she was never absent and never tardy?  Did I share with her how proud I was that she’d moved into the “faster paced” math class?

Why did I save a certificate indicating that she passed drivers’ ed, a note from her principal wishing her a nice spring break, and numerous copies of the program for “The Pirates of Penzance”?  Thank heavens I thought to put away the note she wrote her sister from camp, a poem, and a book report. 

In the 3 pounds of paper, precious few items provide me with many answers to, “what was she thinking while she was growing and changing and becoming a young woman?”  Certificates, clippings, records, reports, and even photographs just don’t capture it. Those are merely memory joggers.  They don’t get to the head and heart of the matter.

Ironically [yet not surprisingly], I recently unearthed a collection of similar items which my mother had sequestered away in a big manila envelope with my name on it nearly 50 years ago.  I wonder if she would ask herself the same questions I have.  Did she know me? Understand what was important to me? Comprehended how hard it was to grow up? Appreciate my struggles and my little successes? Listen – really listen – to me?

We all do our best.  I can only hope my daughters are more astute than I.  That they breathe more.  That they read better between the lines.  That they look beyond the grades into their children’s eyes and see what’s there. That they linger longer beside their children’s bed at the end of the day, rather than rush to get in one last load of laundry or one more episode of Madmen. That they talk less frequently, listen more carefully, interact more sensitively.  And vacuum less…the floors will always be there.

I once read a suggestion attributed to Kurt Vonnegut that you should “keep your old love letters and throw away your old bank statement.”  How about expanding that to, “keep your child’s creations and throw away their grades.” Be careful what you value. Or, perhaps more importantly, what your child thinks you value.  Keep the treasures of your child’s self-expression – like the tiny “Valentines Book” written by a 2^nd grade hand on 8 post-it notes miraculously still “stuck" after 30 years.  Report cards may have their place in the annals of family history, but as your child moves through their school experience, allow these indicators to be a useful tool toward expanded communication and understanding.  Decades later you (and they) will be happy to look back through the memorabilia and see, not what they DID, but who they WERE.

THE POWER OF POSITIVE…

From a young mom:

“Basically: We’re planning a move.  I’m attempting to go back to work part time.  Daddy is out of town.  Mickey has graduated from pull-ups to big boy pants (barely), and Angie has severe diaper rash.  Changes = increased stress.  In my efforts to deal with all this, poor Mickey is getting even less attention, and it is reflected in his not listening to me. My patience is short and I’m abrupt with him - then expend energy trying to keep from beating myself up for not being able to provide both of them with what they need/want.

On the way to school today I thought of the importance of making a conscious decision to be pro-active in making myself happy.  I thought, “I am going to list off all the things going right and all the positive stuff that’s working and all the things we have to be grateful for.” 

Photo by Susan Sermoneta

I did just that OUT LOUD, right there in the car, over the whining and raised voices [his and mine].  That way Mickey (but more importantly I) could hear what WAS working for us.  ‘Mickey is healthy.  Mommy had her coffee.  Mickey had a wonderful breakfast.  Mommy managed to get everyone dressed by 8.  Mickey is clean and has nice clothes. Mommy has sweet children.  Mickey likes school.  Mommy found the keys.  Mickey has healthy snacks from mommy.  Mommy is a safe driver.   Mickey, are you happy? (“yes”)  Mickey do you love mommy? (“yes”)... then all is well!!’ And even if he hadn’t answered in the affirmative, it wouldn’t have mattered because by now I was calm and appreciative of what was going right in my life.

This positive self-talk that I shared with little ears really helped get me out of the cyclical funk.  Mickey got to overhear the “good news” and since I wasn’t talking directly to him, I didn’t really care if he listened or not.  But it sure helped me.  I convinced myself.  And will do this more often!  At first I felt like an idiot, but ended up feeling happy.”

If we take a big breath and give gratitude a voice, we can drown out the garbage with the gold…change our point of view and change our lives.

Christie Clarke

3-28-13