The Claire Connundrum

Claire is a puzzle to me. From early on, she appeared to have a will of steel. Where Devon was like a willow that could bend with the breeze, Claire will was stiff with resolve, until she broke down, usually in tears. Claire can be a very difficult child. Now one should understand that we consider ourselves "enlightened" parents. That is, co-sleeping, attachment parenting, home schooling, favoring natural consequences over punishments and rewards. But despite our enlightened modes of child rearing, we've got tough nut on our hands. Of course, one could argue that we have a tough nut because of our child rearing methods. On the other hand, I believe Claire is Claire, and her personality would out regardless ("what's bred in the bones will out in the flesh"). The question is: what's behind it, and what to do about it.

But first, let me describe her behavior.
Claire wakes up in the morning. Sometimes, she wakes happily, and plays in bed for awhile. Sometimes she wakes up angry. Maybe she's mad that Devon is in bed with her (if they've both made the pilgrimage to our bedroom). Maybe she wants Mama to come up stairs, and Papa came. "I didn't say Papa, I said Mama (grrr)". Eventually she comes down, and there is invariably a bit of tussle over breakfast. She wants cookies. She can have 1 cookie if she eats her oatmeal first. COOKIE FIRST. Argue, argue. Eventually, "OK, Oatmeal first". After the oatmeal is served, "Actually, I want skinny bread" (baguette). "But we don't have skinny bread." "Go out and get some". This may go on for 5 or 10 minutes, but eventually she'll eat her oatmeal. Or maybe half of it. "I'm done, I want my cookie now... actually I want 2 cookies".

As a parent, one sometimes banks on the forgetfulness of children, and make promises that you don't really expect to have to fulfill. This is a dangerous idea with Claire - she remembers all, and lets you know, usually opening with: "You lied Papa. You said when we walked the dog tonight, you'd carry me on your shoulders, and you didn't do it." Usually I try to honor my commitments, but with Claire, there are *so* many negotiations though out the day that it's hard to remember them all.

Besides being constantly argumentative, there are a few behaviors that have been concerning me:
1) Lying. She lies rather a lot, and sometimes pretty convincingly.
2) Hiding things. She takes my wallet, and hides it. Then sometimes lies about it.
3) Insisting on being carried.
4) Wrecking a game in progress (i.e. walking on the chess board, scattering the pieces).
5) Hurting (biting, hitting, pinching). She's not doing this as much lately.

It's easy to see that she wants attention. We talk of "filling Claire's cup", but the analogy doesn't quite work, because it's more like filling a sieve. You spend hours playing only with her, and if you then try to spend a few minutes with her brother, she'll go to pieces.

Sometimes, she will play quietly by herself, for as long as an hour. These are rare periods where Claire is low maintenance. She also enjoys playing with other children, and is very socially adept (unlike her parents).

I think there are some deep feelings of inadequacy that Claire suffers from. She thinks she's an idiot. She thinks she's clumsy (in her words: "I'm the oops girl"). She doesn't feel loved. If we loved her, says Claire, we'd always do whatever she wants.

Claire is not an idiot. In fact, she's extremely bright. She speaks like a child far older than her 5 1/2 years and is a logical thinker. She is clumsy, however. There may be some developmental condition that we could treat with occupational therapy, but it hasn't seemed serious enough to treat. My wife says she's no clumsier than other girls her age, but I disagree.

I'm not sure how to best deal with Claire. It seems the key is to make her feel loved.

Opting Out

More and more often, I find myself opting out; taking the path less trodden. One of the first fixtures of modern culture to be jettisoned was the television set. My son, at 18 months, was obsessed by the images, and it just didn't seem like a good thing for a developing brain. So when it broke, we put it on the curb and that was that. Even before then, my wife and I were skeptical of TV, and never bothered getting cable.

We haven't exactly opted out of that other American icon: the car, although I almost never drive mine anymore, having switched first to a 14 speed bike, later simplified to a single speed (although that is perhaps a conformist move here in San Francisco).

My son had a very difficult time in his first few months as school. He was seriously distressed by the experience, and we decided the best thing for him was to be at home. With a typical maker-fair DIY attitude, we figured we could do it ourselves better. And so far it is working out well. He's much better, psychologically, and isn't suffering academically (in fact, he's already a year ahead of his peers in math).

In July of 2007, I resigned from my job. I probably haven't opted out of the work world for good. I suspect I'll have to go back, if only to retain my sanity. But so far, I am enjoying the time and trying to gain a new perspective on life.

Teaching Devon to Ride a Bike

Devon has had a bike with training wheels for a couple of years now, and a few weeks ago I decided it was time for the training wheels to come off. I had tried taking them off once before, but he was too freaked out by it. Anyway, I decided to try again. My basic approach was this: take it slow. I would take Devon out every day for short sessions, and I'd try to ensure that he didn't fall, and he'd be riding in a week. It has taken more like 3 weeks, but we're almost there. The (almost) daily lessons are extremely short -- 5-10 minutes. Sometimes we just ride to the end of the block and back a couple of times. At first, I held on to the seat the whole time, running behind the bike. After a few sessions, I could let go briefly. Now I only hold on to get him launched, and we are practicing starting from a stop solo. After that, it'll just be practice.

I should say that Devon is a nervous kid -- not exactly a daredevil -- so biking is scary for him. Other kids would throw themselves into it, and learn after a few falls. But Devon needs a gentle touch. I think he is gaining some self confidence by being able to ride without training wheels.

Teaching Devon

Devon has had a hard time learning to read. I have heard that often boys aren't ready to learn to read until they are about 7, and in some countries, that is when reading is first taught. In the US, there is ever increasing pressure to accelerate the process, forcing children to do tasks for which they are not yet ready.

So for a long time, we did not put pressure on Devon to learn to read, although we did read to him (and to Claire) regularly, and both have large vocabularies, and know how to use them.

At the beginning of July, I left my job, and have been inflicting myself on my family. I have made one of my summer projects teaching Devon how to read. I've told Devon that I will read with him every day. We are starting with the basics: Dr. Seuss. Devon is a visual/spacial learner, and I've heard that whole word learning works best for kids like him. While before I would try to teach Devon phonetically, I have find that the phonetic rules are so frequently broken, that it only confuses things. So when he stumbles on a word, like "know", I just tell him that that word is "know", and eventually he learns it, rather than trying to describe a complex rule. He will ultimately infer the rules.

By being patient, and being very regular (that is, reading every day), Devon has made great progress. Just the other day, he picked up "The Far Side Gallary" (a book of cartoons by Gary Larson) and was reading the cartoon captions all by himself. It was a breakthrough event.

Vegetarian for a Week

I recently finished reading The God Delusion, which caused me to reflect on my own morality. I have long felt that it was hypocritical to be a carnivore if I wasn't willing to kill the animals that I was eating. But my they're tasty. Anyway, I decided to try being a vegetarian for a week. In some ways it has not been as hard as I expected. It has not been the case that there is nothing that I can eat. It's a matter of selection.

The big surprise for me is how hungry I have become. I eat what appears to be enough food, but come meal time (or a few hours before) I'm ravenous. I guess meat is just very calorie rich, and my body is telling me it wants (and is accustomed to) more. This effect has been more pronounced as the days pass. I have now gone more than a week and I'll have to decide whether to keep it up. If I get hungry enough, maybe I'll become more willing to kill a cow, thus resolving the issue of hypocracy.