My friend was driving her three children to school early one morning. We’ve been meeting for a while to share and discuss the Nurtured Heart Approach®. I asked her last week what was going well and she told me this story, starting with:  “Well, my son and I have been working on getting ready for school for about a year now.” 

A year.

I’ve known her son – both charming and challenging – since before he could speak. When she said she’d been working on getting ready for school for a year, I got it. 

First, I know him. Second, I understand from my own experience what it’s like to not succeed at getting a child to do what I want – simple stuff - like brush teeth, comb hair, eat breakfast, find jacket,  etc.  I know what it’s like to lose it in the morning; to not want the children really to wake up at all because I don’t want to face the coming battle; to seemingly fail and not get why. This is why this approach has been so gratifying. I am seeing the changes. It’s not miraculous, it’s not overnight, but it’s real. My friend's story was just a slice of her life, but when she told me about it we both knew the power behind the moment. 

“It had been a bad morning. Lots of pulling teeth. But…he did everything he was supposed to, in spite of resisting and fighting me all along the way. We were finally in the car and I knew I had come close to losing it, but the fact was, I hadn’t. I had remained calm and done nothing I might later regret. My two older girls had been especially patient. Together we formed a sort of front. 

"Then my son started to whistle. 

"I don’t allow whistling in my car. 

"It’s distracting and rude and feels like he does it explicitly to annoy us.  

"It wasn’t long before I pulled over.

"After the tenseness of the morning, I knew I was about to let him have it verbally. I knew I couldn’t drive with that whistling and all three kids knew it too. 

"But then, instead, 

"I opened the car door on his side. I took him by the shoulders, breathed in and said, in a very firm, intensely audible voice, and slowly with a look to match: 

“You got out of the house this morning and got yourself ready for school and now we are going to get to school on time. I’m proud of you. Good Job!”


She said he recoiled at first; then had look of puzzlement; finally, a slightly nervous giggle. He was quiet the rest of the way. Her eldest daughter in the front seat, also taken by surprise, muttered “nice going Mom.” By the time they made it to school her son went literally skipping off to class.

Optional Reading: My success right now is in the act of focusing on the positive. Instead of its opposite. A race car is going 110 mph south, I am putting on the brakes, standing still for just a moment, hitting reverse and going 110 mph North. I can only go in one direction or the other in this car that I'm picturing. All other directions are confusing and lead nowhere.  Actually south too is also nowhere but a very convincing nowhere. I can still feel the juice of nowhere. I'm used to it. It's my comfort zone. BUT, I've tasted North. And for a long long long time now I've know it's the only direction for me. Success is here in my determination to find the thread of Peace inside and follow it.)

In the Back of the U-Haul: Last night, my former husband was moving to another new place. A place where my son will spend most of his nights. He lost the keys to the U-haul after we had together packed up the Spartan contents of the small house he's been renting for the last four years (the longest he's lived anywhere since his childhood) into the back of the truck. After about an hour of searching, he left with my daughter for the U-haul shop in hopes of getting a spare key. My son was furious that he did not get to go with them (no more room in my car which his Dad had just borrowed). He slammed the truck doors, sat in its front and banged around. He yelled "MOOMMM" at the top of his lungs. I was in the back, with lots of stuff, some of it from my past, searching through boxes....just maybe....to find that key.  Finding a tattered old sarong from our pre-kid stint on Borneo. It's a 100 degrees....we're in the last days of a Chico summer.

Success looked like this:

1. My mood, for the entire past two hours, had somehow remained calm when my son came to the back of the truck.

2. I gave him a compliment for handling his frustration well - "You could have thrown a much bigger fit and we both know it."

3. And I continued:  "Thanks for all the looking you've done so far. Dad and I really appreciate it. By looking so diligently you showed me your fierce determination. That's a rare quality." (I breathe a little deeper ...  cause these words don't flow perfectly. Anyway, I figured I was just practicing some skills, not expecting a result.)

4. He's irritated and says fast "Why are looking through all that stuff still, we've already done that, you’re not going to find anything." "You're being so stooooopid."

5. I breathe....it's not really a question... and I've heard the last comment before.  "I think they might be on the floor in the back here...so I'm clearing a path so I can look."

6. Now breathing on his part....deep and annoyed.

7. Then, he grabs something from one of the many boxes of toys in the truck. It's a pair of kid's night spy goggles. He gruffly asks me to get out of the way, puts on the headset, lays down on his belly and moves under the chairs and table legs to have a look, as if in some kind of boot camp, and he's muttering, making sure I can hear:  "Determined! You bet I'm determined. I want to be the one to find these keys after all I've done so far. I waited all day in school to see my new apartment and I've had to wait all this time with this truck while those poop heads leave me behind. I will find those keys."

8. More time is now spent looking for keys.

9. No keys.  He says neutrally now, even nicely.... "Mom.... ?  Moooommm...."   "I don't really care, if you find the keys, it's ok if you do and I don't. I just want someone to find the keys."

10. We start laughing, I struggle to lift up the edge of a futon mattress.  "Are they under there?"

The End:  Keys never found, locksmith called for following morning, later son goes to sleep in his bed at my house with various other spy gear under his pillow.   

Getting him off to school this morning is another story.

Writing for an audience is the only real writing there is. So she said like she knows something. Yes, I can write for you dear voice in my head, you are still an audience! And I'm not writing or doing anything specifically for you. You sit now and go quiet.

I'm writing to be of service. That's it. Simply because no other reason truly grabs me and focuses me. I just as soon not do this frankly. So it's best to reaffirm that reason each time I sit here. In fact, if I don't not much happens at all except a lot of discussion with "my" self.

How's it going to turn out? Not my business.

Who's gonna read this? Not my business.

Is it going to really help them? Not my business.

Refuse to go there. Yes I am refusing to engage the part of me that feeds on WMDS (worries, misery or doubts). By the way anything in this blog that sounds catchy -- probably not my original thinking.

It's not that my son minds doing his homework. He just minds doing it with me. So, last year we all agreed that it was fine that he did "it" at his fathers. He's a late bloomer. So "it" has meant the bare minimum requirements, i.e. 1/5 of his spelling pages per night plus ten minutes reading to self before bed. He's ten. He's been in alternative schools all his life, whose emphasis has been the success of the whole child.  I actually think it's working.

This year, we are stepping it up and insisting on ten minutes of multiplication practice a day (something his teacher asked for last year too which just didn't seem feasible if I also wanted to actually get along with him. If you haven’t figured it out so far, I have an issue. God forbid anyone, most of all my children, might consider me unreasonable.

About success. I've gotten clarity (Stand 3: Nurtured Heart Approach = Absolute Clarity) that ten minutes of multiplication practice is not only reasonable but a very very good idea. So when my son balked last week at towing this line, I had to do some NHA research. What exactly would this clarity look like in practice in my particular home?

So I tried this approach:  State the request "I need you to..." Energize compliance and reset if necessary.....adding "Your reset starts when you put your __________ down."  Followed by absolute no energy to negativity...patience and absolute clarity on our rule.

Here's the picture (some poetic license taken) last night.

Honey, I need you to do your homework now.

No.

(Breathe in)

As soon as you put your IPAD down, you can start your reset.

I ain't resetting. You're a poo. Crusty poop, crusty poop, fat crusty poop that's you.

(Breathe in, turn away, and walk)

Son eventually puts the IPAD down but never gets to homework. ....  Father comes to pick up son to spend the night at his house which is par for our course.

It didn't quite work out...Homework still not chosen.....I'm thinking "did that reset work or not?"

Next day:

Mom, Can I do it? "It" now referring to technology.

I like the way you asked me, thanks... No, you can't do '"it" till you get "IT" homework done.

No, I ain't doing it. (He goes outside.)

I breathe....

and then came back and did IT.