Just Try to Make Me!

Sarah is a sweet, brilliant, happy child, but she's also extremely strong-willed and can be, well, difficult. Don has always jokingly called me a "thoroughbred" because I'm intense and high-strung (but, apparently, worth the effort).  I'm afraid Sarah surpasses even me in the high-maintenance department, though. 

Since she turned two, I am constantly trying to figure out how to make her do what I want without confrontation.  Most requests are met with a defiant stare.  A couple of months ago, I started telling her that if she didn't do what I told her by the time I counted to three, I'd do it.  Since she wants to do everything herself, that gets her moving.  Now, she doesn't even consider doing anything unless I count to three.  To get her to wash her hands, I have to do it no fewer than six times (push up your sleeves...1,2,3...get your hands wet...1,2,3...get soap...1,2,3...make bubbles...1,2,3...rinse...1,2,3...dry...1,2,3). Getting her into her highchair, onto the changing table, up the stairs...it all takes enumeration.  And it's driving me crazy.

A couple of days ago, I tried asking her to "show me how to do it." She still does just a step at a time, then I have to say "then what?" but I hope it's a move toward her just doing what I ask (a foreign concept to her at the moment).

She is also a control-freak.  I know that's a common trait of toddlers, but I think she takes it to new heights.  If anything is out of place (in her mind), it must be tended to, now.  And don't even think of moving something she has left in your way.  It belongs there!  Never mind that you're cooking dinner and it's right in front of the stove -- work around it.

She notices every detail.  The other day, she was walking through the kitchen when she saw one of the cabinet doors was ajar.  She exclaimed, "Oh, oh!" and ran over to close it.  Dad left his coffee mug on the counter instead of taking it into the bathroom to shave one morning, and she had a fit.  If her bedroom door isn't closed just right at bedtime, she'll take a few moments to adjust it (not all the way closed, but the latch has to touch the door frame).

While I'm relating this in a humorous way, it concerned me so much that I spoke with the attachment specialist at the International Adoption Clinic about it.  She said it's common for children who were in foster care before they were adopted to feel an exaggerated need to control their surroundings.  It stems from her being taken from the home and people she loved and handed over against her will to strangers (albeit kind strangers).  She feels she has to keep tabs on everything to prevent that from  happening again.  That makes me so sad. 

I'm doing my best to reassure her and convince her it's okay that things get moved or aren't exactly the way they should be.  I give her some say in where things go ("it can go here or there, but not where it is").  I'm also trying to temper my own controlling nature.  I'm not exactly a model of letting go.  I think we're making some progress, though.  She is gradually lightening up and allowing some things to slide.

And then there's sleep....  After a couple of months of fairly smooth sailing, we hit rough waters again in early September.  Sarah started crying hysterically when I put her in her crib at bedtime and again during the night most nights.  I went back to sitting oustide her door while she fell asleep and lying on the twin bed next to her crib during the night.  It was frustrating and exhausting.

Knowing that it was about time to move her out of the crib anyway, I came up with a plan to go to a full-size bed on the floor instead of a toddler bed.  The twin bed in her room was killing my back, and I thought she might enjoy having me sleep with her.  I could lie with her while she fell asleep and return if she cried in the night. 

We made the switch a couple of weeks ago.  I was right about one thing -- she likes having me in bed with her -- but she isn't too interested in sleeping.  Unless she's skipped her nap (which is happening more often now), she can take up to two hours to go to sleep with me lying there.  It's very hard to maintain my patience for that long.  The killer is that about three hours after she finally goes to sleep, she's awake crying for me to come back to bed with her, which I do.  The only improvement in our sleep routine from a year ago is that I get to go to sleep in my own bed.  I certainly don't stay there.

As for naps, she's usually tired enough after lunch that, if I'm stern with her, I can get her to lie still and fall asleep in 10-15 minutes.  At least I could for a while.  Did I mention she's strong-willed?  She seems to have decided now that there will be no napping.  And guess what -- I can't MAKE her sleep! 

If there was any question at all that my new plan was failing, it was clear by naptime on Friday.  I'd decided that lying with her was actually making things worse, so I put her in bed and sat in the rocking chair in her room.  She proceeded to climb around the bed, then out of bed.  I put her back, and she was down again instantly.  After a few more times, I was at the end of my rope.  I put the child safety gate up in her doorway and left. 

So, now we have quiet time instead of nap time.  Fortunately, she doesn't complain much about it.  Today, she was in her room for an hour and sat in the chair reading books for most of it.  Thank goodness she's an introvert (I think).  For the last couple of nights (no nap, remember), I've put her in bed and sat in the chair.  She's been asleep in about five minutes.

Although I hate to see her give up naps, I think I'm ready to let go.  I am so tired of trying to make her sleep.  I hope that I can gradually move my way out the door again at bedtime and we can get back to her going to sleep alone.  Once she can do that, I think she'll stop crying for me when she wakes at night.  Oh, how I hope so.

My friend Amanda reminds me that this, too, shall pass, and I know she's right.  Soon, we'll be on to new challenges, and today's struggles will be forgotten (really????).   I never realized how mentally exhausting parenthood is. I guess no one does until they've done it.  I can certainly see the advantage of taking it on when your brain is young and nimble.  I'm afraid my muddled perimenopausal mind is stretched to its limits trying to stay one step ahead of Sarah.

I've kept a daily journal ever since we brought Sarah home. I'm just about through volume 2 and need to pick up a new blank book soon. Most of it is about sleep (surprise!) -- the scientist in me recording what I did when and what the results were, determined to solve the mystery.  I write down every novel thing she does, too, though. Maybe someday it will just be about the new developments....