Count to Ten

>We have a counting obsession going on at our house, but rather than freaking out at hearing that “Chicka Chicka 1-2-3” song for the thousandth time, I’ve been grateful for a simple method of counting to ten.

It’s not to get the toddler to do what I’ve asked him to do.  For that, I count back from 5.  If I get to 1 before he’s made a choice or moved into action (depending on the request), I decide for him or move his body where it needs to go.  This works wonders.

It’s also not the count to ten strategy I’ve used for years to calm myself down when I’m angry so that my head doesn’t explode, although my husband might like me to reinstitute that particular technique.  Especially when I haven’t slept more than 4 hours the night before.  Ahem.

No, the counting to ten I’ve been doing lately is to keep myself from interfering in my sons’ attempts to solve their own problems.

If the little ball that Theo was happily chomping on rolls out of his reach, I lean down to grab it and put it back in his lap.  I can do this while folding clothes and talking to Sebastian at the same time, it is that unconscious.

It’s giving Sebastian a boost up into the car seat so we can just get going already because we’re half an hour late and of course today would be the day everyone took long naps since it’s the only day in the whole week we actually had plans.  ARGH.

But they don’t really need my help in those situations, no matter how much they or I might think they do.  They need me to sit back and wait.
And count to ten.  Slowly.  Deliberately.  Silently.
Because often by the time I get to eight, they’ve already solved the problem themselves.

Theo has grabbed another toy and is happily chomping that instead.  Or he’s rolled onto his belly and stretched out that little hand and rolled the ball back into his mouth.

Sebastian has climbed up into the car seat and is wearing that “I did it myself!!” smile when he turns around to look at me.

“Solve the Problem” was my classroom motto for two years before I had kids, and I thought I was good at getting kids to come up with their own solutions before I intervened.  But it turns out that I had to relearn that when it came to my own children.

I know it’s paying off when I watch Sebastian struggle to turn on the light in Theo’s room.  I don’t offer to help or turn on the light for him or even prompt him at all with my own solution.  In my head, I count to ten.  As I hit five, I see him walk out of the room and return a moment later with his kitchen stool.  He stands on it and turns on the light.

Then he looks at me and says, “Good job solving the problem!”

Those little numbers.  Sometimes they add up to a lot of independence.  For all of us.