Sing a Song of Sixpence...

P gleefully floats BB's beeswax boat in the sink.  He tests everything to see if it floats and loved how the water rolled off of the beeswax.  In fact, it floated way to well, requiring the child to add water, drain the water and blow heartily, all to provide BB with a perilous journey....

Stories and Songs aren't new parenting tools, by any stretch of the imagination.  But they don't seem to get much air time, either.  It seems to be all time-outs and time-ins.  Self esteem and limit setting.  None of that has helped us much with P, but the stories and songs bit, man, that's the ticket.

A ticket I wish I'd turned into a season pass a long time ago.  I mean, I read when he was a baby that having a soothing song was very, well, soothing.  And so I started humming a special song from the day he popped.  I actually heard P hum it to himself just this week when he was upset, so I know he still finds it rather reassuring ;)

But that's such a small, small example of song's possibilities.  And I've finally realized this.  After all, transitions are notoriously difficult for Phoenix and mollifying those would be a massive mental balm.  He likes where he is when he's there and has no need to be elsewhere.  Its very zen and all, unless he needs to be elsewhere :)  Getting out of the house, while nowhere near the painful process it used to be, can still find me at the end of my rope.  Especially if we're operating on a time line.

In addition to bag packing, there are a few essential steps to leaving the house with children.  Sub rides can be long, public bathrooms scarce, and a toilet stop before we leave is absolutely essential.  Ahhh, but the way a small child can resist even the most basic and rational processes.  Especially when they are really, really busy figuring out how to establish their sense of self and be independent and operate their sense of choice and, dare I say, defiance?  But who, after all, wants to be told what to do all the time, anyway?  Well, certainly not this very autonomous child (who, in all honesty, takes after his very autonomous parents....)  And rather than working to break his strong spirit we're of the mind to embrace it.  Love him the way he is.... while still getting in a pit stop before the damn day out.

And then there's the stinkin' shoes.  (Yah, I still do his shoes, which never crossed my mind.  Until I was recently judged by a loved one for tying a five year old's shoes.  Assured, in fact, that the child would never do it himself if I continued to help.  A comical picture popped into my head of P, patiently waiting for his wife to finish tying his children's shoes so that she could move on to his before he went to work.  I felt no need to tell this loved one that the child has already tied his own shoes.  That we went through a period for a few weeks where we sat on the stoop for seeming hours while he slowly wound his laces.  That he finally got it and then, as the loosely tied laces came undone every block or so, how he became less and less enchanted with this new skill and the seemingly constant opportunity to employ it.  That he now asks me to do it and that he sees my help as an act of love and devotion, since he's "mastered" this skill and grown bored with it ;)  An act that isn't necessary (as he can do it) and is therefore all the more love filled.  Nah.  Her judgement didn't need all of that background information, cuz she'd already made her decision.  But I was sad to see how easily blinders can break down acceptance.  How easy it is to not know something and just judge.... to think you're so right and, yet,  be kinda wrong.)  But back to the shoes.  One has to sit still for this particular step in the exiting process.  Hah.  Double haha.

And then there's the teeth brushing every night.  He wants it done but he also doesn't want to do it :)  And the last potty before bed.  And, of course, moving from the playroom to the bedroom.  Oh, and the transition from play to dining.

"Instructing" what the next step would be just isn't a fab approach with the kid.  Yelling "dinner!" is completely ineffectual.  Honestly though, "announcing" doesn't fly with either of his parents, either, and the kid is just as human as we are, so we understand.  (Despite the fact that we still slip on a regular basis and announce what needs to happen ("Dinner!")....  We're infinitely fallible and unfortunately get hit over the head with this fact, daily.)  And then it finally clicked for us six months ago.  The freakin' songs!

Not that I hadn't tried singing through transitions many, many times before.  But something was different this time and the child embraced it.  I started small, with the goodbye song.  That got us down the stairs with grins and vibratos.  Next came the food song.  Within two days he was dancing to the table as soon as the first bar escaped my lips.  Then I added a song for that last pit stop.  Bingo.  Then child introduced a song for teeth brushing!  Much like I had just started singing certain songs every time we did a certain act (no announcing of "Now, this, son, will be the dinner song.  And when you hear these notes...")  He just started singing the same song each night while we brushed (and then, after a few weeks, he started harmonizing while we sang - it cracks me up).  Then there was the transition to the bedroom song, followed by the last pit stop song again and whalah!  Our transitions were smoooooooth sailing.  Seriously!

I was surprised at how simply songs slid into our lives.  No discussion, no instruction needed.  He seems to relish the simplicity of knowing what comes next without being told what do to.  I relish not telling him what to do.  And I send up thanks every day that it still jives with him.  Because, honestly, I thought the novelty would wear off...

But it hasn't.  And the child has made sure they stick by singing them alongside me.  One weekend, shortly after our dining song entered our repertoire, I sang as I sat out our lunch.  P danced to dine and Ethan... stayed seated.  P glanced over his shoulder and shouted, "Papa!  When you hear that there is food!  Come to the table!!!"  Yah, it hasn't proven as easy to teach an old dog new tricks...

Which includes me.  When I'm in a hurry, "P, go put your potty in" can easily slip out, out of habit.  The response is obvious sudden deafness in the child.  This lack of response triggers my sluggish memory, so I slide into John Denver's "Follow Me" song while gently walking with him towards the bathroom door.   And he, quite the automaton, will wander to the loo contentedly.  It is serious Pied Piper magic.

In fact, he's even started using it on me.  I was busy in the kitchen yesterday and the child wanted to show me something.  Rather than the usual "Mama!  Come!  I Need you!" (which, when I'm really busy is, sadly, only slightly more effective than "P put your potty in.")  He came over and took my hand and sang "Follow Me."  I couldn't help myself, I automatically followed :)