Trying to figure out my daughter

I know that all parents have that, "What on earth is my child thinking? Why is he acting this way? I just don't understand!" reaction fairly often. And while I know all children are little mysteries, my older daughter sometimes is more of a mystery to me than I would like.

I typically find myself describing her as "stubborn" or "a little strong-willed", and while that is accurate, it does not fully describe the aspect of her personality I can't figure out. Here is a prime example:

Last night we were playing a family game of Uno. Both kids enjoy it, and while Eleanor needs a bit of prompting, matching the colors or numbers is well within her grasp at this point. But the game goes sort of like this:

"OK, Eleanor, it's a blue 2. Do you have a blue card?" (since she can't hold all her cards, they're sitting on the table, making it pretty easy to help her out.)

She smirks, hides her cards in her lap for a moment, and pulls out a green card! She knows perfectly well it's green, but chooses it anyway.

Several times, she figured out an appropriate card to play by herself. Once, she played it in the right place...but upside down. Once, she played it on top of the deck we draw from. Once, she tried to play it but hide it under some other cards in the stack. Once, she tried to play two (appropriate) cards.

She loves playing Wild cards, and whacks them down with gusto. But when we ask, "What color do you want it to be?" she won't ever say a color. She clams up, and eventually will hold out a card from her hand and wave it at us, and we say, "OK, Eleanor picks yellow" or whatever.

She likes to deal, but after going around the circle adding cards once, she wants to switch directions. Then she wants to start in a different spot.

She wants to play. She even likes to win (though she doesn't at all mind losing). She does not want to quit...but she doesn't want to follow the social "rules" of appropriate behavior when playing a game. In linguistics, we'd maybe say that she is flouting the maxim of cooperation, or that she does not understand or care about the pragmatics of the situation.

The Uno example is just kind of cute and silly, but it really exemplifies her behavior in all areas of life. Basically, she does not ever want to cooperate or do what she's "supposed" to do. Why on earth not? This is so unlike me, my spouse, and my older son that I'm not sure how to handle it.

Often, like in an Uno game, it's not important enough to need to "handle". But envision this kind of reaction - not quite rebelling but definitely not obeying - every time you ask her to do anything: put away your toys, stop sitting on your baby sister, hold hands while crossing the street, tell me what sound that letter makes, be respectful to your babysitter. Sometimes reverse psychology does work on her, and sometimes bribery or threats work. But sometimes nothing does. And I don't want to resort to bribery or threats; eventually, shouldn't pleasing mom/dad/teacher/friends/God be a reward in itself? The intrinsic societal and spiritual reward of cooperation and obedience? (I know, I know; this is my natural people-pleaser personality talking.)

So what IS this behavior? Yes, she's three and a half; I don't expect perfection, but I also know a whole lot of other three year olds. The compliant ones tend to cooperate, the strong-willed ones will throw tantrums when thwarted. Is this being passive aggressive? Is this just a different kind of strong-willed behavior? Is she just trying to be cute, or creative? Does she just want extra attention?

I should note that I haven't noticed this behavior much when she's playing with other kids, or at least when she's playing with Miles. I also don't see it as much in class situations; she seems to listen to and more or less follow directions in gymnastics, in Sunday School, and in swimming (though it's possible her teachers might disagree with me here!) But with authority figures whom she knows well - mom, dad, grandparents, babysitters, etc. - it appears pretty regularly. Is that because she knows those people well and is comfortable with them?

And most important of all, how do I teach a child like this? How can I encourage her to obey, to cooperate? I pray that her stubbornness and creativity will turn into assets for her as she grows up; I know they can be great strengths if she learns how to harness them. But a child who does not respect authority or any kind of convention is not going to be well-liked or successful in life.

Being a "trailblazer", going her own way, being unconventional - those describe choices we make as adults that can be great life decisions. But somehow, I have to teach my daughter to function in society without society crushing her before she reaches adulthood, because a lifetime spent in time-outs and detentions and being held back a grade and being avoided by other children just cannot be good for her psyche no matter how independent-minded she is.

Advice welcome!

conversations in the car

So we're driving along, and I'm trying to lead the conversation away from "what I want for Christmas" and toward "what would Jesus like for a birthday present? What makes Jesus happy?"

Miles responds, "but we haven't SEEN Jesus...not for a while."

Eleanor, in utter disdain, retorts, "No, you have to DIE to see Jesus."

Miles objects rather incoherently.

With total confidence, Eleanor assures him, "Oh yes. You are going to die."

boy or girl?

So today at one of Scott's innumerable doctor's appointments, a well-meaning older lady asked if Juliet was a boy or a girl.

This is what she was wearing:



We've got a pink outfit with embroidered flowers, pink satin bows, a pink tulle ruffle, and pink-and-purple butterfly shoes.

People, I realize this may not be the face that launched a thousand ships, but surely that outfit doesn't scream "BOY" in our culture, does it?

Incidentally, Juliet is getting better at sitting up. That's not to say "good", but she can balance for a while if we're lucky. Here she is midway down on the descent - I'm just including this photo because it's about the only one where we've caught her smiling so far!

another new hairdo and the comment that inspired it

And I outdid myself this time. At least, Eleanor sure thinks so, judging from the amount of complaining she did. We did "star" braids on each side of her head, coming together to form two little pigtails of braids.




The problem here is that, because her hair is so short and fine, these braids will start to get fuzzy in just a few days, and will be past my fuzziness-toleration-quotient in a couple weeks. So all this work will need to be picked out and redone. On the plus side, I think I'm getting faster; this style only took about two-three hours over the course of two days.

Funny story (or funny if you weren't me): I was down at the Moody Church Halloween festival with the kids, and it was a nice diverse crowd. Eleanor's costume is a flamingo with a big feathered flamingo hat. Very cute. But she stopped wanting to wear the hat about halfway through the evening, and so I was holding it. Unfortunately, we had taken out her last set of braids the previous evening, then washed her hair and combed it out into what was (I thought) a cute little Afro with a headband. I usually let her hair "rest" for a few days between braided styles, both to let her follicles relax and because after picking it all out, I just don't have the energy or time to tackle another complicated hairstyle immediately.

But I guess I should have taken the trouble this time. Her little Afro got smashed flat and funny looking under the hat, and in addition gathered tiny pink feather lint all over it. And then she insists on removing the hat. And this very kind, well-intentioned African-American woman walks over to me, and asks, "Are those your foster kids?" I say, "Well, they're adopted, but they're my kids, yes." She takes my hand, leans in, and gently asks, "Do you have any African-American friends who can help you with her hair? Do you know how to do it? I would be glad to help out if you need some help."

Sigh.

It was a kind offer, and I admit, Eleanor's hair did look unfortunately like "white mama hair." I politely tried to explain the situation and I hope I came across not too defensive. But now I know I need to plan better: if we're going to be in public, I guess her hair needs a bit more style (this coming from the woman whose only hairdo is a ponytail).

Or else we need to invest in hats.

the aviary

Our thanks to Aunt Cammie for the hand-me-down mother/baby flamingo costumes! We got lots of compliments on them. And Miles was an owl, in case you couldn't tell.

a warning

If you drill a hole into your femur, you might end up looking like this:

my first 10k...almost

Gratuitous bragging and self-aggrandizement ahead; be warned!

OK, it was actually a 9k. But who runs a 9k? Now I feel slightly guilty, though, as if I need to run a REAL 10k in order to validate myself saying I ran one. But I doubt I feel guilty enough to actually sign up for one, since it's getting colder and mornings are almost too dark for running. Wait, will going off Daylight Savings Time help there, or not...think think think...fall BACK...so yes, that means I will have more morning daylight! Bummer. It was a good excuse.

For the race planners, I note: it's discouraging to be told that there will be pace markers set up to get us organized at the start line, and then to discover that the markers are for 6, 8, and 10 minute mile pace, and anyone slower than 10 minutes per miles is relegated to the baby jogger section. Couldn't you have stuck in an 11 or 12 minute pace marker, just to make me feel like a real runner?

On the plus side: our race times came out today, and while I am definitely in the slower 50% of the "racers", only ONE woman over age 70 finished before me! Actually, I am wondering if their timer was a bit off, because it says I ran, on average, a 10:38 mile. People, for me, that's FAST; compare that to the previous weekend's 5k where I ran about a 11:20 mile (which actually was fast for me, too; I tend to estimate a 12:00 mile). And I didn't feel fast; I felt like I could barely shuffle my Sudafed-and-Mucinex-laden body along. So my theory is that their timer is off, rather like my iPod pedometer which insists that I actually ran 8 miles or so. I know there's a way to calibrate the darn thing, but I followed the instructions and ended up with it still thinking I'm running 6-7 minute miles. Heh.

The best part of this race? I actually remembered to bring a wad of Kleenex with me. Being able to blow my nose every kilometer or so was pure heaven, compared to just trying to sniff and dab ineffectually at the corners of my nose with my race T-shirt.