PPC day six: Revamping bad days

I called this day six because it is the sixth day since I began, though this is not the sixth post. I shall continue doing this because I find it unlikely in this stage of family life that I will blog everyday, but am continuing the project each day and want my posts to represent time not accumulation of words.

Truman did not want to leave the kids area at the Y today. He wanted to stay and play with the magnetic building toys he constantly is working toward mastery with.

I could have found this frustrating. I could have taken on the tantrum he was throwing. But I didn't.

Why?

Because I know how important working with that toy is to him. I know that day after day I find him there playing with the same toy patiently building a multitude of shapes, increasing his understanding of geometry and ability to work cooperatively with the other little boys who are just as interested in this toy.

This toy, I am told, has caused fist fights. It's well-loved.

Yet, when I arrived at the kids area and chose to watch him play for a minute to get a glimpse into his world — the world that exists without me — I watched him communicating with others; I watched a conflict emerge as one child smashed what they were working on; then I watched Truman raise one of the blocks poised to throw.

I cringed, thinking, don't do it.

And, you know, he didn't. He paused, thought about it and recoiled. Then began playing.

My son is an impulsive person, but I know when I see moments like that that all the things I have done to help him control those impulses are working, even if he can't do it all the time. It's working.

I left and let him play for a while longer while I knit. When I returned he was still not ready to go and that brings us back to the beginning of my story.

I went in and looked at what he had built with others: a big house, really quite neat. We talked about it and he said he wanted to build it again. I agreed that we would build one more house and then go. So we did.

This kind of count down approach has worked for us before, particularly in the pool, but it didn't work at all now.

So, I end up having to haul him out, at which point every displeasing encounter within the next 45 minutes of his life became a manifestation of the frustration he felt about still wanting to build houses.

All of these things were just obstacles creating more space between him and the thing he desired and they created waves of tantrums: cutting of his wristband, putting on his coat, going in the car, not having the food he wanted in the car, not having enough water in the car, getting out of the car, coming in the house.

I could have seen each of these tantrums as individual problems, letting each one wear on me as I tried to solve it or reason through it. But instead I knew he was just frustrated about the one thing and it was making all of these things worse.

I wrote about this on day one. I really learned this on day one.

And so I let the tantrums happen as they needed to, offering calm solutions to problems as they arose. And finally after 10 minutes crying in the garage that he wanted to get back in his car seat, he came inside and was ready to move on.

Though the last hour had been spent in something I had previously considered a conflict, I felt no more frustrated than when I began because I chose to focus on the underlying issue and helping him through that. I chose not to take on the task of solving all the small problems, or worrying about why he was upset about everything.

And now that we are on the other side of it I will let it go and allow my mind to begin again.

I tend to think I cannot let go of these things an infinite amount of times each day. That eventually they stack up and overwhelm me. But I will learn to do this. As letting go of possessions that clutter one's life creates peace in the physical space, letting go of the emotional clutter that builds from holding onto these moments creates peace in the mind.