Smarties
"Is it today still?" Pie asked. We were on our way home from an outing and she was anxiously awaiting her opportunity to sit on the potty and earn two Smarties. Cleverly, we had decided to reward her with two Smarties for every potty visit and a whole Halloween-size box for a successful deposit. Not so cleverly, we had warned her that her sitting fee would be halved tomorrow: two Smarties for sitting on the potty TODAY; one Smartie for sitting on the potty tomorrow.
"Is it today still?" she asked again a moment later. Yes, we explained. It would stay today until she went to sleep for the night and then woke up and had breakfast. Then it would be tomorrow. Except we would call it "today". "Do I get TWO Smarties when we get home?" she asked anxiously. Yes, dear. Two Smarties.
"If you go pee on the potty," I added encouragingly, "then you get a whole box!"
"But I don't want to pee on the potty," Pie replied. "I want to sit on the potty and then get two." This is why, at age three-and-two-months, she is still not even partially potty-trained.
"Is it two today?" she asked. "Two Smarties?" Yes, and yes.
By the time we got home, the winds had shifted. Pie didn't want to sit on the potty; she didn't want Smarties; she didn't want a treat. This from a girl who had given herself a hemorrhoid that morning squeezing out a tiny turd in exchange for a box of candy. I can only conclude that the intensity of her desire became self-defeating: the pressure of wanting two Smarties, and worrying that today might suddenly turn to tomorrow, cutting her Smartie-salary in half, became too much. It was easier just to stop wanting than to continue in that anxious state of anticipation.
Is that something we outgrow - the ability to switch off our desires in self-defense? Are there things I really, truly want that I've persuaded myself to abandon out of fear or helplessness? Once, I wanted a tenure-track job - I was ready to pick up and move across the country for the sake of anyone who offered me one. And when I decided to stop wanting that, I threw the switch every bit as thoroughly as Pie did, directing all my energies into my new goal to stay here, have babies, and never, ever move away. Everything I value in my life right now came from that decision, but I'm always dimly aware that there's a part of me that really craves a good box of Smarties.
18 good cooperations:
Bea, you're so smart. I love this post. And now I am going to go delete a post from my "pending" items -- the one about how I'm pretty sure that what I have now is perfect (part-time career that pays well but is not challenging, lovely children in pretty but career-ending town) but a part of me remembers how I was going to "be somebody!" one day...
Have you read Cather's "The Song of the Lark" lately? Phew. I've never been so envious of a literary character!
I think it is a defense mechanism...L. has always been really good at this. No bribes ever worked with him--if the task was too difficult, he simply switched off the desire, and channeled it elsewhere.
Great observation.
Sort of a "I didn't want it anyway" mentality. Which I think can be human nature. I certainly do it.
I sit here reading your beautiful words and recognizing a terrible trait of mine that I've passed along to at least one of mine. It's so frustrating and sad to watch him that I am working really hard to change channels. Thanx for the reminder and GL with this big step!
Isn't it about control? I'd rather sit for the two candies I'm sure to get rather than sit and wait for something that may or may not happen for the entire box.
Don't listen to me, my oldest boy wasn't trained until well past four. "No thank you" he would say quite sweetly.
At that age changing his diapers was like changing a large dog.
(Your) Anon
Personally, I do that every time something gets "hard." Well, actually, that's a lie; until I became a mother, I would give up on anything that became hard. Now I'm a mother and it's the hardest thing EVER and I can't give up. Not wholly, anyway. Or permanently.
I often wonder the exact same thing about a tenure-track job.
Mine would have bargained for two smarties tomorrow,too, even if it gave them horrible constipation.
I am a much happier person since I taught myself to want the things I can actually get. (But it is hard to ignore what I can't have, sometimes.) Even so. A Smartie in the hand leaves lovely round patterns on your palm.
I've never bewen good at not desiring things. And who doesn't want smarties?
What's so diabolically clever (or foolish) about it is that Pie decided to stop wanting something she could get, because she sensed that her desire made her too vulnerable, too easily manipulated. It IS a control thing, and I still haven't made up my mind if this ability demonstrates an impressive kind of strength or a self-defeating weakness.
I always expected it would be easiest to potty-train a smart kid. I found out -- the Starburst way -- that it wasn't. But that did train me to alter my thinking. And, in this motherhood game I'm in, that's not a bad outcome.
In my opinion personal control is a strength and one that will serve her well in life.
Our pediatrician once told me, "I've never had a patient yet bring pampers to college."
She'll train when she is ready and on her terms because she is a smartie!
Easy for me to say.
(Your) Anon
Oh I sometimes turn my desire around before it even starts just to outwit life's circumstances. Actually I don't know if I do that it just sounded like a clever thing to say.
i think that i've spent an awful lot of my life doing just that...
I love this. I'm on the edge of two incompatible goals myself--a tenure track position or family time. I'm sick about it.
Potty training is so complicated and different for every child. Even with yummy Smartie treats. It will come! She sounds like an amazingly smart negotiator.
My problem is that I eat 20 other boxes of candy trying to convince myself that I don't want the one box of Smarties.
Hey there, came by way of Mad's (I think) but I've heard great things about you elsewhere -
which is why it pains me to begin this introduction with the fact that I will do anything for Smarties, including self-inducing hemorrhoids. Pooping on demand, I'm pretty sure I could do it.
I (by the way) know NOTHING of giving up on anything. Ya, I sure don't.
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