Rise of Cave Berzo

My little cave girl, Berzo

I find it fascinating that from the moment of conception until about age five, human development seems to parallel our evolution.  We start out as a single fertilized cell floating in water much like the first life on earth. Then much like the first complex life, a backbone appears, then fish-like gills, an amphibious-like tail and lungs, and then things start looking a bit more mammalian. Around a year or so our adorable babies begin walking with the bowed legs and the distinctive gait of a chimpanzee. My girls always completed the look by making chimp grunts and hoots as they toddled around. I called both my girls Little Monkey at this stage. This charming period ends abruptly at 18 months. This is when we reach the Cave Kid phase of our human development. That amazing prefrontal cortex has begun to grow making them smarter and more self-aware, but they have an almost total lack of impulse control and their immature brains are constantly overwhelmed with stimulation.

And so I bid farewell to adorable Monkey Berzo and say hello to Cave Berzo. Mine! Snatch you it! Again! Eat! Pooping! Eat! Plllllay! Hunt kitty! Right now! Give it to Berzo! I WANT it! Go AWAY Mama! My Moe!

I find myself running around after her saying, “You may not hit your sister on the head, hitting hurts!” and “No pulling your sister’s hair! If you want to touch Boots, touch her soft, like this.” I demonstrate a soft pet, but she grabs a handful of her hair and pulls, laughing as Boots shrieks indignantly at her hurt head and feelings.  “Let go of the kitty’s tail, it hurts her and she might scratch you!” and "You may not touch the kitty's bottom, that's a yucky place.  Let's go wash."  Berzo laughs.  I say, “Spit that rock out, yucki!” and “We color with crayons on paper.  Crayons are not for eating.  If you're hungry, I'll get you a snack.” I hand her some food which she often outright rejects and goes to hide so she can continue eating the crayon.

Like a cave person, she loves to forage for her food. A petrified raisin or stale Cheerio found under the sofa is far more delectable than anything I put on her tray at mealtime. If it’s a berry growing on a bush she’ll have it in her mouth before I can catch her. She also enjoys sampling: all forms of rocks, dirt, chalk, sticks, crayons, Play-doh; basically anything small enough to fit in there or close enough to lick. If it was stuck to the bottom of her foot, all the better!  She relieves her discomfort and gets a snack at the same time! At meal time, she pitches a good portion of her food off her tray. Then when I pop her out of her chair, she’ll often pick it up off the floor and eat it. “Cave Berzo doesn't want to be fed; Cave Berzo wants to forage.”

If you happen to be sitting or lying on the floor in our house watch out, Cave Berzo will come out of nowhere, jump and land her bottom right on your unsuspecting belly/back or whatever part she can access. Also, she loves head-butting. Everything. Last weekend at the Evergreen Aviation Museum she spotted some Plexiglass separating the walkway from the exhibit space. She squirmed out of my grasp, dropped her arms to her sides, bent over, got a trot going and head butted the Plexi. She bounced back a few steps and then grabbed my hand and looked up at me with those big blue eyes and smiled. Onlookers gave me a perplexed look.  All I could do is shrug, “She’s in her Cave Girl phase.”

“Ohhhh.”

Boots doesn't get it. As an almost six-year-old she has left her Cave Girl phase behind and is moving towards joining her fellow Homo sapiens. She has no understanding of what is going on with Berzo. When I tell her she did the same sort of stuff, she looks at me like, "No way mom, Berzo is just weird." Indeed my dear, we all were.

Book: Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline

Powell's Books
Barnes & Noble

Becky Bailey, Ph.D. - © 2000

I consider myself something of an authority on parenting books, having read at least 25 of them. They seem to fall into categories, Tips and Tricks, Woah You Didn’t Already Know This Hype, Specific Problem, XYZ is the Reason Why Kids Today are Weird, Parenting Through Religious Teachings and finally, Learn to Behave Positively, so you Can Teach Your Children to Behave Positively. Easy to Love is the only one I've read that falls into this last category. This is my third reading of this book in two years.

About two and a half years ago was the most difficult time during my relatively short time as a mother. I had been struggling with my then three-year-old since she hit the eighteen month mark. I was pregnant with my second, doubting my wisdom in birthing my first, and feeling an like an utter failure as a parent. I was so stressed I was actually having chest pains. I was yelling, swearing and otherwise being the exact opposite of what I wanted to be.  Despite my fervent attempts at control, or perhaps because of them, Danielle was misbehaving at every turn; defiant, (NO, YOU CLEAN IT UP!) hurtful, (I HATE YOU!) and quick to melt down at every setback. I’m getting anxious just writing this.

I tried everything: time-outs, punishing bad behavior by taking things away, rewarding good behavior, offering choices, and incentives. I also tried outright control tactics using all my power as MOM to control her. None of it worked, and none of us were happy.  I knew there had to be a better way. I searched and searched, and when I found this book,  the synopsis shone like a ray of hope into my desperate heart. I think I may have heard angels harmonizing.  Yes, yes this is us!

As I read I knew I found that elusive parenting philosophy for which I had been searching! Becky focuses on self-control, (for parents and children) and discipline as teaching rather than punishment. Kids develop in predictable ways, and no one is born knowing how to negotiate conflict. Some of us never learned. (Me!) As I grew I learned how to avoid most conflicts and internalize the rest. (Awesome strategy, no?) In my mind conflict was BAD. (No wonder I used to fantasize about running away to the mountains to be a hermit.) In actuality conflict is GOOD, because it is an excellent opportunity for learning and teaching. 

Instead of giving me advice on how to manipulate and control my children, it taught me how discipline and control myself, so I could then be an effective teacher for my children. Every time I teach my girls how to negotiate through a conflict I feel more confident negotiating my own conflicts. It taught me how to assertively say “no” and be heard without being hurtful. It taught me to be kind to myself when I make mistakes and give myself credit for my good intentions so that I could see my children's true (good) intent, and be kind with them when they make mistakes. Then I guide and practice with them what to do instead. I learned how to turn off the “punitive self talk” (Amy, that was really stupid. What's wrong with you?) that was programmed into me, so I can also resist hurling the plethora of terrible phrases I have stored away at my children. It taught me that the gift of controlled parenting that I give my children, I also give myself. I feel like I’m finally going through and throwing out my growing-up baggage rather than handing it down to them.

Easy to Love can get a bit confusing with Becky's Seven Powers for this and Seven Basic Skills for that and GAMES and PEACE plans that don’t fit perfectly with what you’re supposed to remember. However, if you take it slow and read word to word, stopping to absorb and mentally practice what she’s saying, you’ll get it.

This book is the exact opposite of a quick-fix, it takes years and multiple reading before everything really start to sink in. Becky stated that for her personally it took about five years before the processes and words felt natural, and came to her mind without thinking hard first. I was discouraged initially, and then thought, I could be the same frustrated, ineffective parent I am now in five years, or a more relaxed, happier version of myself in five years.

Here is an example of a personal situation to which I applied Becky’s teachings.

Marker Mayhem! 

Danielle is coloring with markers at her kid sized table in our front room. Gabi comes up and tries (in normal toddler fashion) to grab the marker right out of Danielle's hands. Danielle shouts, “NO GABI! THAT’S MIIINE!! MOOoooooOOMM, Gabi is trying to take my marker!!!”

Gabi starts stomping her feet and adds to the cacophony, “I neeeeed it! Give it to Gabi!”

Before reading this book (or on an off day today) I would have handled it one of two ways:

Tact 1. Go after Danielle because she's older and therefore less crazy.

Me: “Danielle, can you share your marker with Gabi?”
Danielle: “No! Noooo! I need it to finish my horse picture!” Predicting that I’m going to coerce her she digs in. “I don’t want her to use my markers!”
Me:  I'm getting frustrated at this point, and my brains are becoming scrambled by all the ambient screaming: “Danielle, you need to learn to share! Gabi just wants to color with you! Why is that such a terrible thing?! Give her one of the other markers that you’re not using.”
Danielle: “NO, NOOOOO! I don’t want her to use my markers!!” “Gooo away GABI!” she practically spits out.  Gabi ratchets her displeasure up a notch.
Me: Feeling desperate I say, “Gabi, lets you and me go read some books!”
Gabi: “No, no! Color! Markers! Maaaaarrrrrkers!”
Me: “Danielle, share with Gabi or the markers are mine.”
Danielle: “No!!!!” 

I take all the markers and shove them in the box and put them up on top of the fridge.

Danielle: “Good, you take them, just so long as GABI doesn’t get to use them. FINE!”
Me: *Long angry rant about sharing and sisterly love, and you should be so lucky to have so much and this is selfish behavior, etc, etc.*

Tact 2:  Go after Gabi because she's the offender.

Me: “Gabi, you may not snatch things from other people!” “Let go! Let gooo!” Pry her fingers off Danielle's marker.
Danielle: “Yeah, Gabi don't snatch!”
Gabi: “Maaaaaaarrrrker! I neeeeed it!”
Me: “Gabi, lets do something else. Do you want to read a book?”
Gabi: “No, maaaarrrrker!”
Me: “How about blocks? We can build a super cool tower!”
Gabi: “No, marker!”

Gabi runs back and grabs the marker again. Then we start with tact 1.

Results of doing things “my” way:
I’m angry and disappointed, Danielle is angry with me and Gabi, and Gabi is melting down. I did all the work resolving the conflict and nobody is feeling good.

This is how it plays out when I use Becky’s methods:
I dash in and then squat down to be eye level with the girls. Danielle starts in reiterating the problem, “She’s trying to snatch my marker!!”

I look at both girls and say, “Hold on, lets calm down, we can figure this out. Gabi, let go of the marker, I'll help you.” I help release her fingers.

Gabi: “Maaarrrker, I need it!”
Me: “Gabi, you wanted to color with Danielle so you tried to take the marker.”

Gabi looks at me and calms down a little. Danielle tenses up, expecting me to try to coerce her, I reassure her, “Don’t worry I'm trying to teach you guys.” “Gabi, if you want to color with Sister, please ask, don't take, taking can hurt Danielle's feelings. Try asking now. Say, ‘Danielle, can I have your marker?’”
Gabi: “Danielle, have marker?”
Danielle: “No! I’m using it! I need it to finish my horse picture.”
Me: “Say that to Gabi.”

She does, somewhat gentler, and Gabi starts to get upset again.

Me: “Danielle, try offering Gabi one of the other markers.”
Danielle: “Gabi, here you can use a different color.” (She really did this!) “But don't color on my picture!”
Me: “Danielle, can you show Gabi where to get paper?”
Danielle: “Gabi, come with me, the paper is over here.” Feeling magnanimous, she gets Gabi about fifty sheets.

Gabi sits down and starts coloring, Danielle says, “Wow, Gabi, I like your coloring.”  (No really—this happened!)

Result: We all learned something, our relationship is stronger and we are happy.

Instead of jumping in and solving the problem using my position of power, I taught them how to work through the conflict. Will they do this perfectly next time? Nope. Will they do it perfectly the next fifty times? Nope. But I see Danielle, (5 years old) getting it more and more, and trying out parts of it. She's much more relaxed when I come in to help with a conflict because she trusts me to guide her instead of coercing her. She has yet to put it all together, but heck, she’s only five! I don’t do it perfectly every time either, actually I mess up all the time. But when I do make mistakes, I’m kind to myself, and remind myself that I'll have lots of opportunities to practice and I'll get it eventually. I particularly feel good that they'll have these skills their whole life! Who has better odds of becoming a better baseball player, one who starts playing at five or someone who put a glove on her hand for the first time at thirty-five?

My littler one, Gabi, benefits from having clear firm boundaries, and a Mom who knows how to enforce them without being angry or spontaneously permissive because she doesn't have the will to fight on that particular day. With these tools, I know how to set and enforce boundaries in a loving way that teaches responsibility, self control, and conflict resolution.

The principles of this book can be difficult to absorb as you're learning them, however Becky provides many common real world examples that applies the teachings. At the end of the book she even provides a week by week schedule for practicing each particular skill.

I'm not a perfect parent, nor will I ever be, nor do I aspire to be. But I'm doing everything I can to give my girls the best chance at a happy life. In turn, I'm giving myself a happy life with my husband, and the two coolest little kids I've ever met.

Book Review: A World Without End

Powell's Books
Barnes & Noble

Ken Follett - © 2007

I loved Follett’s Pillars of the Earth and was thrilled when my husband found it has a sequel --of sorts. AWWE is also set in the fictional English town of Kingsbridge, about 150 years later in AD 1327. Several of the main characters are descendants of our heroes from Pillars.

Fourteenth Century Europe was a lively place historically speaking, but a deathly place for those that lived during that time. It was a time of the Black Death that ravaged Europe killing about half the population. It was also the beginning of the Hundred Years War between England and France. Like Pillars, this fictional story is threaded through historical events and beaded with factual details creating an utterly compelling tapestry that is at once lovely and horribly ugly. I was left with a feeling for what life was like for the people who lived (survived?) during those times. For the first time, I’m truly thankful to be alive in our modern world (medicine, judicial system, equality, welfare, economy) even with its many flaws.

Synopsis:
Four pre-adolescent children, Gwenda, Merthin, Ralph and Caris witness a knight being ambushed by two men-at-arms in the forest near Kingsbridge village. With Ralph’s help the knight, Sir Thomas Langley, defeats the two men.  Merthin helps the knight bury what turns out to be the historical Fieschi Letter. The children’s fate remain intertwined from that day forward.

The beauty of this book lies in the depth of the historical research. Through each of the main characters we learn different aspects of daily life, social structures and economy. The many dozens of minor characters fill out all 1181 pages beautifully.

Through Merthin’s eyes we see the wonders of medieval architecture and Europe. He and Caris develop a maddening and sometimes just annoying romance that lasts the duration of the story.

Through Caris, who is the daughter of a prosperous wool merchant we learn about the economy and hierarchy of craftsmen of medieval England. Such as how the craft guilds operated (and from Merthin as well) and how apprentices were used. We also see how weavers and dyers worked and how their lives and their work are one. It is no wonder they were named for their livelihood, Caris Wooler, Merthin Builder, Dick Brewer, they are very much what they do.

Also through Caris we learn about the operation and hierarchy of the church and the medicine they practiced. The prevalent use of animal dung in poultices for “bringing forth the pus” and how patients were diagnosed with evil humours which were treated by bleeding pint after pint of their life’s blood. It was common for someone to be treated for a broken arm, then later die of some unknowable infection. Innovation in medicine was heavily discouraged and anyone who tried risked being charged with witchcraft or blasphemy. A priory hospital was a truly terrifying place.

Through Gwenda’s eyes we see what life is like for the daughter of a landless laborer. Summers of backbreaking labor in someone else’s fields and winters of picking pockets and enduring starvation. It is baby brothers and sisters dying because your mother didn’t have enough to eat to maintain her milk supply. After Gwenda marries we see life for a serf of a nobleman. How they could only grow what the lords declared, how they paid their taxes and were required to labor on their lord’s fields as well as their own. They essentially belonged to him and were treated as such. For the first time I understand why people flocked to the wilderness of the Americas simply for the promise of owning their own land.

Through Ralph’s eyes, we see the inner working of the nobility class and how one rises through the ranks. We also see the horror of King Edward III’s Battle of Crécy and Battle of Blanchetaque to reclaim Gascony. Ralph rises from squire to Earl of Shiring through equal parts dumb luck and ruthlessness.

By the story’s end in the year 1361, the bad guys are dead, the good guys are happy-ish and the buried letter is revealed, in a somewhat anticlimactic fashion.


Grrrrripes

A first I felt the characters were obvious derivatives of the Pillars characters. Merthin is clearly Jack, for whom I suspect the author has a particular affection. Caris is Aliena, Ralph is a cross between Richard and William... So much so, that I referred to Merthin as Jack in my mind to keep the names straight as I got to know the characters. However, by the end of the story, they succeeded in forming their own identity in my imagination.

He and I share a tendency to be overly verbose. However at least I am aware of it. He wastes page after page recapping past events. I DESPISE THAT! It feels condescending. He also takes an extraordinarily long time to get around to making a point; then he takes it and lays it on the sidewalk for you to step in over and over again. Dammit! I already stepped in that pile twice already! One particularly wet pile was hearing how Caris wouldn't marry Merthin for fear of spending her life as a slave to him and their future children. I think stating that once is plenty, and perhaps it could go unsaid and just revealed in dialogue or her actions. This is a technique called “show don’t tell” from which he could benefit using. As a wife and mother myself, I would have been able to sympathize with those feelings, if I wasn't so tired of wiping my shoes in the grass.

He occasionally uses modern idioms in dialogue and in his narration. In one case, he wrote of Ralph’s reluctance to invite his parents to live in with him at Tench Hall because they would “cramp his style”. (Another opportunity for use of the show-don’t-tell axiom.) A petty thing for sure, but my illusion of living alongside the people of medieval England shattered and suddenly here I was, in the 21st century reading a book. Guess I better go start a load of laundry.

Missed Opportunities for Redemption
I was disappointed when the two primary villains Godwyn and Ralph died. Their deaths were punitively gruesome, however I was hoping for some kind of growth or redemption. We spend a lot of time in each of their point of view’s and both while both did vile acts, I was still hoping for something meaningful to come out of their lives.

Godwyn, the Prior of Kingsbridge was not an evil man, but he was arrogant and prideful. I was hoping he would be stripped of those attributes through some sort of suffering or some first hand exposure to what people sacrifice for those they love. Then he'd live out his life in a very humble subservient way or perhaps he could have saved the day somehow to someone else's glory.

Ralph, I’m afraid had to go. However, I was hoping there would be some meaning to it. Throughout the story he is self-centered, self-serving and utterly without conscience. Once he discovers Gwenda’s son Sam is his own, there are flickers of something almost like love. I was hoping Follett would fan that into a flame inspiring Ralph to perhaps fall in love with Gwenda (true love, not ruthless-take-what-I-want love) and die in some altercation in which he sacrifices himself for Gwenda or Sam or both. He still dies, but we would see that man he could have been if something more than his killing instinct had been nurtured and praised.

At one point while ranting about some aspect of this book, Charley said, “I’m sorry you’re not liking this book.”

“What? No, I’m loving it!”

At times I was passionately angry with characters, his writing, the way the plot was going, because I was all in! I couldn't (willingly) put this book down. I would almost subconsciously make excuses to get a moment to read. “Took Gabs a little while longer to fall asleep tonight.” “Girls I’m a bit tired, I’m going to rest for a few moments and read a bit.” Those thousand pages were gone in a flash. The historic detail, the lifelike characters, the engaging story made the words come off the page and swirl into full color life, complete with fresh breezes lilting through trees full of the scent of grass and blossoms, stifling rooms reeking of shit and death, and the wonder of living in a time long past that is part of our composition today.