Approval

My five year old and I butt heads. Frequently. As in, all day every day. She has extremely strong ideas of her own, and the determination to pursue them against all odds. If she doesn’t want to do something, it isn’t happening without some serious and repeated consequences.

Yesterday it was her turn to run errands with me, her first time to experience a day out with mom like the older kids. She was so excited that she did almost everything I required of her beforehand without lip (let’s face it, perfection would be a little much to ask of anyone), and the whole time we were out she was the model of an obedient child.

We had philosophical conversations, experienced our first lesson in the Dewey Decimal System at the library, picked out books for the whole family, discussed ingredients we needed for freezer lunches, and bought a water spigot for the yard. She asked a million pertinent questions, and volunteered her services for several helping jobs. We have never had such a pleasant time together, and I couldn’t help but reflect on the reasons.

You see, at home there are five. Five voices clamoring for attention. Five bodies filling up my immediate space. Five minds to be filled and trained. Five hearts to be molded and fulfilled. (And that’s just the kids.) A lot for a mama to process and accomplish. A lot for one small girl to feel in competition with for recognition and approval.

Yesterday she had no competition. She could say anything she wanted, help with whatever she wanted, express whatever she felt without delay, etc. I could focus on her every word and action and provide positive feedback rather than the rushed and stressed responses so often prevalent in the mayhem of home.

I was reminded of a principle that I know, but often fail to apply when it comes to my children. Although we as humans do need correction when appropriate, what we crave more than anything is approval. When we receive positive attention, we will do just about anything to keep it. If positive attention is rare, we will demand attention in whatever way produces it, even if the result is negative. In turn, the negative response feeds the need for approval which translates into more negative behaviors.

I sat down with all my kids this morning and apologized. We started over. It was very hard for me to hold my tongue when a math lesson consisting of three problems took an hour and a half. It was hard for me not to express frustration when someone’s undone chore interfered with my own task. It was hard not to complain when for the third day in a row all the kids played in the mud, this time in a pouring rainstorm, creating more laundry on the already heaping pile needing to be addressed.

But I made sure to praise for the understood math lesson at the end of the time. I did the dishes myself. I laughed at their antics in the rain. I tried to give full attention one at a time. It wasn’t a perfect day, but it was productive, and it was a beginning.