My nose is growing

Real or not real? That is Hannah's favorite game to play lately. Monsters. Real or not real? The Beast in "Beauty and the Beast?" Dinosaurs? Bats? Bears? Dora and other cartoon characters? I'm pretty honest with her. I don't want to ruin the "magic" of princesses and other fantasy characters, but I don't want the witches to scare her away from watching or reading about those princesses (which happens for her a lot). I also don't want her to be so scared that she can't leave my sight in our own home (which has happened, too). Hannah's teacher told a boy this week that his nose would grow if he told a lie just like Pinnochio. So, Hannah's been asking about the story of Pinnochio. I confirmed her teacher's story. Hannah asked if Pinnochio was real, and I told her it was just a story... This afternoon, she told me that she had turned out her light. A lie, which was immediately followed with a reach for the nose. I asked her if she was telling the truth, and she nodded her head while holding her nose. I told her that her nose was growing. She looked doubtful as she felt around on her nose. She asked how noses grew? I told her it was magic that only parents could see. She asked if it would grow into a branch? I replied that as soon as she told the truth her nose would go back to normal. "Mommy, I didn't turn off the light." Her nose was back to normal. But mine had grown!

POSITIVEly Questioning Myself

When I was a kid, my parents called me "Norm," as in Norman Vincent Peale. This was right after we got City Slickers on video, so I thought they were nicknaming me after the calf that Billy Crystal delivered in the movie. After I finally got upset, they explained who Norman Vincent Peale was: the author of The Power of Positive Thinking. I think of myself as a "glass half-full" type of person (unless, of course, you see someone pour half of a glass out, in which case, I think I would then and only then call it half-empty). It seems, though, that others no longer see me as "Norm." This morning, a student informed me that he "never hears anything positive in class" from me. Granted, this is only one period of the day, and the opinion of one student in that one class. And he told me this at the prompting of the counselor and his parent, both of whom suggested positive reinforcement as a behavior modification for me to use with him, so that idea was in his head. But STILL! It breaks my heart to think that my students might not feel uplifted, empowered, positive, supported, and educated by their time spent with me. Tonight, I was baby-talking to Hudson. "That's right, Hud! See, getting jammies on is fun! You've got it!" He was grumpy, so I was trying to keep him smiling, and the "goochie-goo" voice usually has that effect for a couple of minutes. Hannah started grinning at me, in the background. I asked her in the same voice, "Do you like it when Mommy talks this way?" She affirmed. As the conversation continued, she revealed that my baby voice means LOVE. So, by not using it with her, she thinks I love Hudson more than I love her. I don't use the baby voice with her. Honestly, the voice feels forced and sarcastic but it calms Hudson who is still learning words but gets tone already. And Hannah's not a baby. So unless we're role-playing with her as a baby, I don't use the sing-song with her. Apparently, in her mind, that boils down to I love her less. Maybe I'm not being positive enough with her. Hannah and Hudson mean the world to me, and I work so hard not to say "No" to either of them, to keep it positive. Here's a positive: I'm positive that I need to change my approach and wording with kids. Hannah, Hudson, and my students all deserve to hear the positive things I think. I pray for the strength to show them that side of me so that they know how much I value them. Not feeling so positive about myself now...