I'm Not a Fan of 5...

I got a phone call yesterday that Miss Roo's glasses were ready to be picked up. It was good news, but five had already proven to be an extremely difficult year. I love my kids dearly, but certain phases are painful for everyone involved. The beginning of three certainly comes to mind. I thought we were bracing for Isaac's difficult transition to middle school, but it was smooth sailing. Riley however became melodramatic, mean, dishonest and unpredictable. The world made no sense to me when the behavior started. I know now that I gave her way to much sway with the school transition and her cram packed month of birthday festivities. I just kept waiting for things to "go back to normal." Normal is not static, it is fluid and often changes as soon as you have a handle on it.

I started to feel like I didn't even know this person. I reported things she told me to her teacher only to find out they were completely untrue. So embarrassing, how could I have known when prior to now she had always been truthful? She wasn't so drastically different at home, but I started feeling the old tingling-of-the-Spidey-Senses. I was suddenly overcome with anxiety that Miss Roo was misbehaving at school. Could she be...a bad kid? After everything we went through at the beginning of the school year I thought her strange behavior was over. Wrong-O.

I soon became overwhelmed by her nightly fits at bedtime. To clarify: throwing herself to ground, screaming, kicking, saying nasty things fits, every night. I was blind-sided. I reacted badly at first, feeding into the drama (oops). After a few night I made some adjustments gave her new incentives to go to bed peacefully and enlisted Mike for back up. Once we were out of the woods (phew) at home my Spidy Sense about school grew. Sure enough I went to pick her up thinking we'd grab her glasses on the way home and had my suspicion confirmed.

I arrived as they were finishing up lunch. Roo's greeting was over-enthusiastic and I knew something was up. When I approached her teacher it was obvious something had just gone down. Miss K had an incident report for me to sign, ugh! Apparently, Riley decided she didn't want to eat anything in her lunch except the fruit snacks. Now these are the healthy natural fruit snacks, but they are still "a treat" and Miss K told her (as Mom would have) that she needed to eat a few bites of her sandwich first. Riley's response was to throw herself from her chair to the ground so hard she was injured.

I mean really! Who IS this kid? Where did my sweet, logical little problem solver go? I bit my lip and tried not to cry from frustration. Next, even though I knew the answer I asked if this had happened before. I felt sick. I told her about the bedtime issues we'd recently resolved. We agreed we needed to be in communication about the "fit issue." She'd always been such a good kid. I was so frustrated and afraid I'd caused this by putting her in the bad environment, not taking her out sooner or not reacting to it properly when it started. Nonetheless, things had changed it was time for a new strategy. It felt like three all over again, maybe worse.

We went straight home (without a stop for her glasses) and talked about her choices. I said the things I've said a hundred times "Did the fit solve the problem? Did it make things better? Did it make anybody happy?" "You have to use your words to solve problems." And so on. I made a sticker chart so we could keep track of days without fits. I devised a whole reward system with emphasis on the positive reinforcement. I was sure knowing that the teacher and I were communicating would go a long way. I knew we could nip this nasty habit right in the bud if we handled it well.

It's never linear though this growing up stuff. I dropped off her beautiful Frozen themed sticker chart this morning with high hopes, but I know this like everything else will be a process. After school today there was a note instead of a sticker and I was totally bummed. We picked up Riley's glasses on the way home. She looks gorgeous in them, but it's a tangible reminder of all the change.

There's always time to make better choices, Miss Roo. Let's do this.