Stahlke Adoption

Promises

Promise #1 on August 18, 2005 in Ukraine
Be a parent and take care of my children

Promise #2 sometime in 2006
Read a book with Misha any night he's in bed by 8:30 pm

Promise #3 on December 14, 2007 at 6:30 pm
Allow Misha to stay up until 9:00 pm because he behaved well at the Ukrainian Christmas program

Promise #4 on December 14, 2007 at 7:00 pm
Escort Misha straight to bed if he continued to "play" instead of cleaning the living room

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For the last several months, Misha has resisted the authority of adults in his life. He's marginally better with Jonathan, me, and his 2nd-grade teacher, but with other adults such as teachers at Sunday School and Ukrainian school, it's been an extremely challenging semester.

To him, it must make perfect sense. One day in Ukraine, some strangers came to his home and made him leave his parents, his extended family, his house, his toys, his pets, etc., etc. So to him, it's very threatening to obey adults, especially ones he doesn't know very well. He can't understand that they (usually) have his best interests in mind. He just knows that his world fell apart when he lost control to the "crazy men."

Misha's not alone in these feelings. Our other four children also struggle with control issues of one kind or another. I suppose that all kids face this struggle to some extent, but I'm only familiar with our five. One of our worst meltdowns exploded right before their first Halloween in the U.S. The children love to decorate, and Jonathan had promised they could put "lamps" (outdoor Christmas-type lights) in our front tree. Unfortunately, the word for lamp in Ukrainian is very broad; when he came home, they had rigged up a living room lamp in the tree, complete with yards and yards of extension cords. He told them to dismantle it all, and before he could offer the proper lights, one of the children fell apart into a major meltdown: Papa had promised something and then taken it back. Of course, the depth of the child's anger, grief, and disappointment was not appropriate to the current situation; instead, old feelings of loss and betrayal were emerging. The child stayed in the tree for a long, long time, absolutely refusing to remove the lamp, and that was just round #1 of that meltdown.

Last Saturday, our younger three children participated in the annual Christmas program at their Ukrainian school. Misha took part willingly, which for him has been unusual lately. He has sometimes spent the entire four hours of school coloring instead of doing his lessons. But Jonathan recently explained to him that he needs to keep up his Ukrainian language so he can help Kola, who will not know English. That makes sense to Misha, and he's beginning to try harder.

On Saturday night at suppertime, I rewarded the children for their good behavior at the Christmas program by promising them an extra 30 minutes before bedtime. But in our job after supper, Misha kept messing around instead of cleaning up the living room. It's an old pattern: repeated requests for a certain behavior with warnings of consequences. Finally I had had enough, and told him clearly: "Misha, if I see you messing around one more time, you will go straight to bed."

In only thirty seconds, he tossed a sweater five feet into the air. "Misha, it's time for bed." Result: a major meltdown. I was still sore the next day from restraining him on my lap: an enraged child is pretty strong. "Mom, you broke your promise!! You said I could stay up late tonight!!" "Misha, I promised you bedtime if you kept messing around." "That doesn't matter," he screamed. "You broke your promise!!!!" By this time, I was rueing my choice of discipline, but it was too late to back down. Misha needs to learn that I mean what I say.

(The next day, Jonathan explained it to him much better than I had. My very first promise to him was to be his mother and take care of him. He needs to learn to trust and obey us.)

After about thirty minutes, he was finally sitting quietly on my lap staring at the wall, and still refusing to go to bed. I'm very good at waiting, so I settled in, quietly watching him squirm. He lasted a long time for an eight-year-old, but after ten minutes it was just too much. "If I go to bed, I bet you won't read to me!"

The adoption literature has also told me that children need to save face. Here was my golden opportunity! "Misha, it isn't 8:30 yet, so of course we can read a book together. That's something I've promised you many times." He thought about it briefly, and then sprinted up the stairs to find a good book!

posted by Stahlkes @ 9:48 AM