I mentioned in another post that misting bottles are one prescribed “cure” for bedroom monsters. We have a green bottle in the girls’ room, but it’s not to dissolve monsters. It’s to dissolve whines.
Last week sometime we were at the store getting a new bottle for a cleaning solution. When I said the sprayer was next thing on our list, Natasha nodded knowingly.
“Ohhh,” she said. “Is that to get rid of whining?”
I’ve had people ask me if I think “Monsters Inc.” is what made Natasha afraid of (complaining about) monsters. I say no, not on its own, because “monsters” is apparently a developmental thing that kicks in around age-three. I’m not sure what to call it really, just that a friend’s pediatrician was giving her advice for dealing with her son’s freak-outs, and his treating it as normal.
I’ve heard a couple creative ways to get rid of monsters.
The problem with both of these, Jay and I were discussing this last night, is that they both agree with the child that monsters are present.
Sometimes I think a child’s cries of monsters really could be the Enemy tormenting the poor kid. That is something I (by the grace of God and the power of Jesus) don’t have to put up with.
The line I’ve used for months is simply, “Mama doesn’t allow monsters in this house.” Sometimes I’ll add, “Jesus keeps them out. He’s stronger than any monster.” I remember at least once talking about what Natasha can say to a monster if she sees it.
Last night she used it. Continue reading
I mentioned in another post the first verses we taught our girls and how they responded.
We’ve begun a new round (and type) of memorization recently.
After a hiatus (where we did no verses at all), Natasha began responding very well to working on her Sunday School verse at bedtime. I like that verse very much, but I was beginning to think about how we explain verses to little kids.
Then I started wondering about the application bit of it. That led me to look for verses that have immediate applicability at the age they are now.
When Natasha made the connection between her song (“Lift up Your Countenance”) and what she saw (a fussy sister), that was her first instance of extracting application (or at least, relation) from words she’d memorized.
So in an effort to replicate that type of experience, I made a “set” of verses, distinguished by color, and printed out several pages and hung them around the house:
Hebrews 12:11
No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it yields the fruit of peace and righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
Psalm 139:14
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Ephesians 4:29
No rotten talk should come from your mouth, but only what is good for the building up of someone in need, in order to give grace to those who hear.
I love the attitude of Psalm 139:14. I also like the concrete elements of Hebrews 12:11 and Ephesians 4:29.
Tonight Jay came in as we were practicing “the pink one,” and joined in. Immediately the tenor of the whole exercise changed. We did the verse as a family, several times, and then Natasha volunteered (for the first time) to say it on her own. There was much giggling, fun and encouragement as Natasha worked her way from beginning to end.
We gave her a word when she got stuck, and encouraged Melody to prompt from her few memorized phrases. It was the family-ist recitation time I can remember. Melody took a shot at it too.
And, if you’ve never heard a 2-year-old say things like “enjoyable,” “Later on, however,” and, “peace and righteousness,” you’ve really got to try and coax those out of her sometime. It was pretty great. The girls were so jazzed by their success they requested (and we practiced) the other two for a while also.
If I get around to posting the goals I drew-up last night, you’ll understand better why these were so significant to me. Either way I enjoy going back over my morning and creating a “done” list:
Today (and it’s just naptime) I
Both while Elisha was still awake. (Both firsts.)
I also
Now everyone is down and I’ll be able to do a bit of reading before I clean up the front room some more. The bedrooms are still cluttered, but I expect we’ll get them some more after nap.
I figure part of the success is me shifting my whole focus to these things (I think lists are good for me sometimes), and part of it is Elisha reaching some magical age where he (his personality, whatever) clicks into the gears of what’s going on in our family, and he fits the workings. I am very encouraged.
N: I don’t like dreams. Make it so I don’t have dreams tonight.
M: I like dreams.
Interesting how the girls seem to think they can’t feel differently. They have to fight over it.
And they have to assert their individuality by giving their own answer (even if it’s the same), and asking the same question, even when I’ve already answered it for her sister, right in front of her.
This extends to rules and rebukes. One will see the other told no, then do the exact same thing, as though to test if the rules are the same for everyone.
It gets old, but I figure it’s not that different than it would be with “real” twins, so I just keep trying to be gracious.
The girls went to the hockey game tonight with Mom and Dad. It made quite an impression.
Jay says says that when Natasha sees something she wants to do that’s she’s not big enough for, she’ll pick an age at which to do it.
For example, tonight after we picked her up she was talking about how big the hokey players are, and how she can’t skate with them yet.
“When I’m 14?” she said, “When I’m 14, can I play hockey?” I asked if that was the ave Uncle Mark said she needed to be. “No.” Fourteen is just a good age? “Yes.”
~~~
Then Melody needed a diaper change, but refused the new one. So she managed to keep her pants dry the whole time she was there, making a couple trips to the bathroom. She knows what to do–when she’s motivated. But I suppose that’s where her sister started too.
I did lesson one in the Distar book with Natasha tonight. I think she wasn’t really very interested, but the premium mama-time was too valuable to pass-up.
I saw right away the difficulty resulting from of teaching letters before sounds (something the introduction expounds on, eloquently, though I honestly don’t know how to avoid it: “You, there, Grandma! Quit telling the girl her alphabet!” I mean, really!)
Natasha made both the mistakes the introduction describes: wanting to say letter names rather than sounds, and (at one point) exclaiming, “M! That starts with mouse!”
What ended up working well was describing names, as opposed to the sounds they make. I used kitty as an example: “Its name is cat, but it says ‘meow.’ Yes, this is an ’em,’ but is says ‘mmmmm,’ and that’s what we’re using right now.” The analogy seemed to work for her, but the “say it fast” game didn’t go smoothly at first.
I think we’ll repeat lesson 1 before we go on to lesson 2. Tomorrow, I hope. She almost seemed to get the idea of things toward the end, but I didn’t want to hammer things into the ground on our first day.
Natasha was telling me this morning about her dreams, and I managed to record this much:
“I had a dream about you got married in that big dress. It was pretty pretty. And I was not there, and Melody was not there. Only Dad was there.”
Thank you, God, as this day ends
For my family and my friends.
Taking time to sit and pray,
Thank you God for this great day.
This little prayer, followed by some episode-specific praise, comes at the end of each Boz story. The girls have been watching their Boz DVDs back to back for a couple days, now.
Tonight Natasha sat up in bed with her fingers interlaced and said, “I’m going to pray tonight.”
That was just the coolest to me. I thought to myself, “This is why you buy Christian movies: to let the kids see the type of “normal” you want them to internalize.”
This self-initiation was mostly so exciting because we’re about as consistent with bedtime prayers as we are with bedtime teeth-brushing. Neither is every night.
It wasn’t so much the repeating of the formula that was neat to me (though that was sweet in its own way) but the practice of adding something unique of their own at the end.
Natasha’s latest (as I wrote that last line): “Thank you for rocks and neat toys to play with.”
Well, we didn’t get around to making a cake today, like we’d planned, but now think I’d like to do a cat cake (the kind you make with two 9″-rounds), so I’m glad we didn’t make it yet.
We aren’t having a party until Sunday (if that– depends on the flooring, and we still haven’t invited anyone but Mom and Dad. The floor situation has made the atmosphere here just generally stressful.) but we’ll probably just make cupcakes for that, and use whatever left-over cake we have.
I wanted to do something special on her birthday. We were going to start reading, but she was up late last night, and wanted to nap, so we put that off for a day too.
Mom and Dad called at bedtime to sing “Happy Birthday” to Natasha. She wasn’t sure how to respond, really, but passed-on a coached “thank you” quite smoothly. Then Mom asked her how it felt to be four, and whether she was growing.
“I been trying to,” she answered seriously, “but my skin won’t grow.”