Backing off

I am pretty good at manipulating my children. I know what levers to use to get them to do what I want them to do. Sometimes this is necessary. Sometimes I have to manipulate the kids for their own safety or wellbeing. I have to manipulate them into eating healthy food when they would much rather eat candy. I have to maneuver them into bed when they want to stay up all night. Manipulation is part of the parenting package and I’m pretty good at it. BUT there are times where I need to back off and not manipulate my kids. If I over use the manipulation tool it may break when I truly need it. Also there are times when I want to manipulate my children not for their good or for my sanity, but for my convenience. My convenience is a misuse of the manipulation tool.

Today is a good example. Last night we attended a Halloween party. During the party Kiki collected a whole plate of cookies and brought them to our table with strict instructions that no one touch them. When the party was over, Kiki walked home leaving the cookies behind. I assumed that they were then abandoned. I loaded Patches’ cupcakes on top of the cookies and brought them all home. This morning Gleek was rousting me out of bed to get out her candy. I didn’t want to get out of bed and I didn’t really want her to have candy. But I remembered that the plate of cookies and cupcakes was sitting on the counter. I told Gleek to get something off the plate. Patches joined her and the two had a feast. Then Kiki arrived downstairs and saw that there were no whole cookies left. She was furious because they were her cookies. I explained my thought pattern. It didn’t make her feel any better. She ate breakfast and then locked herself into her room. When I knocked on the door the only response I got was a shouted “Leave me alone!”

My plan for this morning was another housework scavenger hunt. The house has been a wreck and it needs to be cleaned. Kiki locking herself into her room interfered with my plan. I considered that locked door. I knew I had levers that could get Kiki out of her room and cleaning. Some of them are blunt force (“I don’t care how mad you are, you will clean now!”) Some of them are more subtle (Sending Howard in to tell Kiki what an awful day I had yesterday and how tired I was this morning, thus triggering Kiki’s nurturing side and making her ready to be friends again.) I sat at the kitchen counter and considered my options. I remembered all the times that my parents manipulated me. I’m sure they did it more than I realized because as human beings we all manipulate each other constantly. But I specifically remember the times where I saw the manipulation and it worked anyway. I remember how mad and helpless it made me feel. Now I am in the position of the parent. I will inevitably do something similar at some point, I probably already have without realizing it. But I had a choice, today I was paying attention. If I manipulated her today, it would be to make her comply with my plan for the day. My plan had us all happily scrambling to get the work done as fast as possible. I realized that while the work is necessary, there is all day for her to do it. She knows what her assignments are, she knows that she can’t watch TV, play video games, or play with friends until the work is done. I realized that I need to allow her to do the work in her own way and on her own plan rather than manipulating her to follow my script. I realized that I need to let her be mad at me. If I made apologetic overtures, they needed to be focused on healing the hurt feelings not a toe in the door to get her to do what I wanted her to do.

I wrote Kiki a note. I apologized for giving away the cookies. I did not justify this by claiming that I felt she had abandoned them or that I’d done the work to bring them home. I just said I was sorry for doing something that made her angry/sad. I asked her to forgive me. Then I offered to help her make up a whole batch of cookies with a chocolate cookie recipe off of the internet. I put the note under her door. When the note disappeared, part of me wanted to knock on the door. Did she like the note? Did she forgive me? Would we be making cookies? Was she still mad at me? Was she in the room fuming about what an awful mother I was? I had no cues, just a closed and locked door. I wanted to hover. I wanted to know.

When Kiki is upset, she needs space. It is often hard for me to give her that space. There is something inside me that is driven to make things right. We get caught up in emotion and I find myself hounding her to make sure that she sees things my way. I am driven to make sure that I’ve told her all of my justifications. She feels cornered and increasingly upset. She lashes out to make me go away, but I pursue to make sure she understands. Why is it so hard for me to give her the space she screams for? Why can I not remember in the heat of the moment that I can’t MAKE her think or feel the way I want her to? I somehow need to find the courage to walk away and trust that she will wend her own path toward calmness. I need to trust that she is not villainizing me in her mind. I need to trust that she is not tearing herself down and blaming herself. I need to trust her to be the strong person that I know she can be. Today I managed all that. Today I walked away from the door. I still don’t know how the cookie note went over. I don’t think she is still mad, but she could be. Today I just have to let it go and trust Kiki to find her own solutions. She finds good ones so often. Many times her solutions are better than mine. I have to let go. I know this. Why is it so hard?