Driving off from daycare yesterday:
Me - I'm really not all that happy about you lending two of your new bakugan to your friends. Now you only have one left to play with until next week.
Ella - It's alright, mum. My blue bakugan says that I should play with him more anyway.
On the bike this morning:
Ella - Bonjo means hello.
Me - Do you mean bongiorno?
Ella - No, bonjo.
Me - In what language?
Ella - In French. Max told me that.
Me - Ah, bonjour!
Ella - Max goes to French lesson.
Me - I didn't know Max's parents were French?
Ella - Mu-um! His dad has black hair! That's why he's French.
This morning after getting ready for daycare/work:
Me - Look at you, all in purple. Look in the mirror Ella, do you like it?
Ella - I do. And you know mum, I changed my mind when I just looked at you. I now like brown too.
Knowing how much she dislikes/d brown, that definitely is the nicest compliment on my outfit I ever got!
17 June 2009
15 June 2009
Forgetful
We were playing Cranium last night with some friends. Part of the game is when one team member has to act out, sculpt or draw the word that's on one of the game cards and the other has to guess what it is. Ella was on Greer's team and was sitting on her lap when Greer picked a card and brought it closer to her face to read it.
Ella [turning her face away from the card] - Oh, I am not allowed to see the card.
Ella [repostioning herself] - Oh, I can't read, I forgot.
Ella [turning her face away from the card] - Oh, I am not allowed to see the card.
Ella [repostioning herself] - Oh, I can't read, I forgot.
31 May 2009
Sunday
At a dinner party on Saturday night, someone told me they thought I was a fantastic mother.
I'm not very good at accepting compliments.
And just to demonstrate that, I spent most of my Sunday being the absolute worst mother I could be.
When I tried to make up for some of the damage done when I put Ella to bed, I suggested that my behaviour really deserved having stickers taken away. I asked her how many stickers she thought should be taken from me. She said - still with a serious face: "One". I really do think she inherited the too-nice gene! When I offered that I thought my behaviour justified having 3 stickers taken away, I finally got a smile when she said: "Ok, 3 then."
I'm not sure why I seem to have lost ALL my patience suddenly. I do know that the only way to deal with this until it passes is to avoid stress. So we are eating food prepared earlier for the rest of the week and if we do happen run out of clean undies, I'll just go and buy some more! My focus will be on making our time together quality time and stuff all the rest. If I can compete with the Mamma Mia DVD, that is.
I'm not very good at accepting compliments.
And just to demonstrate that, I spent most of my Sunday being the absolute worst mother I could be.
When I tried to make up for some of the damage done when I put Ella to bed, I suggested that my behaviour really deserved having stickers taken away. I asked her how many stickers she thought should be taken from me. She said - still with a serious face: "One". I really do think she inherited the too-nice gene! When I offered that I thought my behaviour justified having 3 stickers taken away, I finally got a smile when she said: "Ok, 3 then."
I'm not sure why I seem to have lost ALL my patience suddenly. I do know that the only way to deal with this until it passes is to avoid stress. So we are eating food prepared earlier for the rest of the week and if we do happen run out of clean undies, I'll just go and buy some more! My focus will be on making our time together quality time and stuff all the rest. If I can compete with the Mamma Mia DVD, that is.
29 May 2009
Jumping to conclusions
We walked to the local shops today to buy some necessities and Ella was wearing her new purple fairy wings over her coat.
This was the conversation as we walked back:
Ella - Noone said my fairy wings were beautiful!
Me - Maybe they didn't say anything because they don't know you.
Ella - Maybe they were shy?
Me - Yeah. Some people probably thought that they were beatfiul but they didn't dare to say anything.
Ella - Because they thinked that I'm a bad kid who left her gun at home?
Me - [laughter - couldn't think of anything to reply to that]
This was the conversation as we walked back:
Ella - Noone said my fairy wings were beautiful!
Me - Maybe they didn't say anything because they don't know you.
Ella - Maybe they were shy?
Me - Yeah. Some people probably thought that they were beatfiul but they didn't dare to say anything.
Ella - Because they thinked that I'm a bad kid who left her gun at home?
Me - [laughter - couldn't think of anything to reply to that]
27 May 2009
That'll teach those baddies!
Ella fell over the other day when we were racing to see who could get inside first at daycare. It resulted in a nice bruise right next to her eye. The following day we had this conversation in the car.
Ella - Mum, my eye hurts when I close both my eyes. When I close both my eyes my eye hurts where I falled.
Me - Oh, that's no good. I hope it feels better very soon.
Ella - And it's not funny.
Me - No, it's not funny having pain.
Ella - Baddies think it's funny.
Me - Yeah, baddies think it's funny when people hurt.
Ella - And that's not nice, is it?
Me - No, not nice at all.
Ella - We don't do that.
Me - No, we try to be nice to other people. And when you're nice to other people there's a bigger chance that other people will be nice to you.
Ella - Yeah.
Me - Because we don't really want to be nice to baddies, do we?
Ella - No. We can say we love them. But then we don't love them.
Me - Err, yeah?
Ella - And not be scared when they say boo. They hate that, when you're not scared when they say boo. And that's ok, isn't it. Because they're baddies.
Not a very effective strategy from a criminal justice system perspective maybe. But I'm so happy that that is the worst version of 'not being nice to someone' that she can come up with at this stage.
Ella - Mum, my eye hurts when I close both my eyes. When I close both my eyes my eye hurts where I falled.
Me - Oh, that's no good. I hope it feels better very soon.
Ella - And it's not funny.
Me - No, it's not funny having pain.
Ella - Baddies think it's funny.
Me - Yeah, baddies think it's funny when people hurt.
Ella - And that's not nice, is it?
Me - No, not nice at all.
Ella - We don't do that.
Me - No, we try to be nice to other people. And when you're nice to other people there's a bigger chance that other people will be nice to you.
Ella - Yeah.
Me - Because we don't really want to be nice to baddies, do we?
Ella - No. We can say we love them. But then we don't love them.
Me - Err, yeah?
Ella - And not be scared when they say boo. They hate that, when you're not scared when they say boo. And that's ok, isn't it. Because they're baddies.
Not a very effective strategy from a criminal justice system perspective maybe. But I'm so happy that that is the worst version of 'not being nice to someone' that she can come up with at this stage.
Just an update
I've been slack with updating the blog...
Things are going well for Ella at daycare and even better at school. She will still tell everyone who asks that the thing she likes best at school is that (all together now) "they letted us choose if we want to play inside or outside". I tell you, the teacher is more cunning than I could ever be. The inside/outside play is pretty much the ONLY choice she will let them make and they are forever grateful for it and she is the nicest teacher in the whole wide world. The thought that she can choose if she plays inside or outside at home every single day never occurred to her. Hehe.
But the most cunning plot is the "Dead Donkeys game". Ella told me last week that she wanted to finish her wrap at lunchtime, but she couldn't because she wanted to play Dead Donkeys.
The game goes as follows (Ella's description):
You have to lie down on the floor.
You must not wiggle or move.
If you move you have to sit up.
Who doesn't move gets a clap.
I've always called it rest time, which is a really, really silly name for the Dead Donkeys game I realise now!
Anyway, I'm sure this is not the first time I will be amazed at what Ella will do in school which she would never do for me at home and it's how it should be. She has more important things to do at school than to engage in endless negotiations and battles about the nitty gritty. That's what home is for, not?
But today I dropped her off at daycare. And she was feeling very sorry for herself because she has a cold. I told her about 5 times this morning that if she was really sick she could go to bed and stay there, if she didn't then I did not want to hear anymore whingeing about feeling sick. I got told 5 times that I should really, really try to be nicer to her. I replied 5 times that it's not my job to be nice. The socially unattractive quality of self-pity got mentioned a few times too. I hope tomorrow morning will be a more harmonious one. And it may be time for me to revisit the chapter on teaching empathy by example in my book on teaching kids values?
And today or tomorrow we will hopefully finally meet Ella's godmother's Canadian love, Fred, for the first time. I jokingly suggested to Ella that we'd heard so much about him, but we'd never seen him, so what if he wasn't actually real? Ella replied: "I believe in Fred. [pause] But I don't believe in god."
Amen.
Things are going well for Ella at daycare and even better at school. She will still tell everyone who asks that the thing she likes best at school is that (all together now) "they letted us choose if we want to play inside or outside". I tell you, the teacher is more cunning than I could ever be. The inside/outside play is pretty much the ONLY choice she will let them make and they are forever grateful for it and she is the nicest teacher in the whole wide world. The thought that she can choose if she plays inside or outside at home every single day never occurred to her. Hehe.
But the most cunning plot is the "Dead Donkeys game". Ella told me last week that she wanted to finish her wrap at lunchtime, but she couldn't because she wanted to play Dead Donkeys.
The game goes as follows (Ella's description):
You have to lie down on the floor.
You must not wiggle or move.
If you move you have to sit up.
Who doesn't move gets a clap.
I've always called it rest time, which is a really, really silly name for the Dead Donkeys game I realise now!
Anyway, I'm sure this is not the first time I will be amazed at what Ella will do in school which she would never do for me at home and it's how it should be. She has more important things to do at school than to engage in endless negotiations and battles about the nitty gritty. That's what home is for, not?
But today I dropped her off at daycare. And she was feeling very sorry for herself because she has a cold. I told her about 5 times this morning that if she was really sick she could go to bed and stay there, if she didn't then I did not want to hear anymore whingeing about feeling sick. I got told 5 times that I should really, really try to be nicer to her. I replied 5 times that it's not my job to be nice. The socially unattractive quality of self-pity got mentioned a few times too. I hope tomorrow morning will be a more harmonious one. And it may be time for me to revisit the chapter on teaching empathy by example in my book on teaching kids values?
And today or tomorrow we will hopefully finally meet Ella's godmother's Canadian love, Fred, for the first time. I jokingly suggested to Ella that we'd heard so much about him, but we'd never seen him, so what if he wasn't actually real? Ella replied: "I believe in Fred. [pause] But I don't believe in god."
Amen.
12 May 2009
Little rewards
It so pleases me to hear Ella say 'thankyou' spontaneously to other people now.
It's quite ridiculous that I should feel so pleased by it. Objectively, the success rate of my strategy is appalling by all standards. I must have repeated the "say thankyou" phrase to her about 2000 times since she started talking 3 years ago. The first 2 years I probably would not have observed any result at all. If an abominable success rate like that were to happen in a different situation, I'd be declared insane for sticking to this. It definitely makes me seem obsessive. After about 2 years I started seeing a result probably after every 20 times of prompting and that success rate has since been hardly noticeably increasing.
In contrast, the "say please" success rate was significantly higher, faster because it enabled me to use a more effective strategy. For the 'thankyou'-sayer there is no direct reward of note. A smile in return at most. At least 'please' you say before you get something. And if the giver is a parent, they may very well decide not to give you this something at all until you say that magic word. If they are mean, they won't even prompt you. They will at most mumble something like "hm, interesting" when you ask for something and ignore you until you've managed to figure out that they won't react until you add the word 'please' to your request.
More effective indeed. I hardly ever have to prompt Ella to say 'please' anymore. Which pleases me too - pardon the pun. But then again the 'thankyou' is more of a victory just because of the absence of a direct reward and it only making sense in the context of cultural rules and traditions. A very abstract and complex principle for a 4yo to grasp. Yet therein lies the basis of understanding one's culture and the need to show consideration to others and one's heritage by following social conventions and traditions that have a history and a meaning that originated generations ago.
Fascinating topic! Definitely more interesting writing about it than repeating "say thankyou" 2000 times.
It's quite ridiculous that I should feel so pleased by it. Objectively, the success rate of my strategy is appalling by all standards. I must have repeated the "say thankyou" phrase to her about 2000 times since she started talking 3 years ago. The first 2 years I probably would not have observed any result at all. If an abominable success rate like that were to happen in a different situation, I'd be declared insane for sticking to this. It definitely makes me seem obsessive. After about 2 years I started seeing a result probably after every 20 times of prompting and that success rate has since been hardly noticeably increasing.
In contrast, the "say please" success rate was significantly higher, faster because it enabled me to use a more effective strategy. For the 'thankyou'-sayer there is no direct reward of note. A smile in return at most. At least 'please' you say before you get something. And if the giver is a parent, they may very well decide not to give you this something at all until you say that magic word. If they are mean, they won't even prompt you. They will at most mumble something like "hm, interesting" when you ask for something and ignore you until you've managed to figure out that they won't react until you add the word 'please' to your request.
More effective indeed. I hardly ever have to prompt Ella to say 'please' anymore. Which pleases me too - pardon the pun. But then again the 'thankyou' is more of a victory just because of the absence of a direct reward and it only making sense in the context of cultural rules and traditions. A very abstract and complex principle for a 4yo to grasp. Yet therein lies the basis of understanding one's culture and the need to show consideration to others and one's heritage by following social conventions and traditions that have a history and a meaning that originated generations ago.
Fascinating topic! Definitely more interesting writing about it than repeating "say thankyou" 2000 times.
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