Teaching moments

The first time I pulled a student out of my classroom to discipline her, I didn't know exactly what I would say or how I would say it. It almost seemed absurd that I would be chastising someone, with my young age and inexperience. That is something reserved for seasoned teachers and parents, isn't it? The words just came out, and it worked, but I was left bewildered, thinking about my mom and wondering how she found the right words to correct me when I stepped out of line.

Now that I'm a mom, I sometimes find myself feeling at a loss in the same way that I did that day with my student. I know Ellie did something wrong. I am mad and want her to learn to not do it again. How do I convey that to her in a loving, teaching manner? I hear the words coming out of my mouth but can't believe I'm the one saying them. When did I get old enough to have that authority?

I have a hard time saying no to Ellie. We are blessed enough to not have many reasons to say no. There need to be limitations, so that's the only reason I have, but she is smart enough to ask for an explanation. How do I explain to an almost three-year-old that the only reason I have to deny her what she wants is that she needs to learn what it feels like and be ok with it? "Because I said so" is seldom a good enough answer and quite frankly, one I do not like giving.

She's starting to cry when she doesn't get her way. My natural strategy when anyone starts to have a meltdown is to lower my voice and keep calm. I've been this way for as long as I can remember, and it's especially useful now that I have what looks like the beginning of tantrums on my hands.

I don't write all this after a long day of battles, though there were some. It was a full day, but our little battles are just a tiny part of it, and I don't have the patience to do more than take it all in stride. I might feel guilty more often than not when I make her do things she doesn't want to, like eat her fruit or go to bed, but every morning, the first words out of her mouth are "mommy! Mommy! Please come up," so I know that my attempts to be consistent and discipline her are necessary and good because I'm the first person she's looking for first thing in the morning. And I love walking into that room to find a curly-haired head poking out from under the covers.