For instance, instead of “cleaning the kitchen,” just clean the countertops, or the stovetop or . . . just load the dishwasher. (click on a photo to see a larger image and check out the little red clock)
Since I’m not only freakishly organized, but freakishly competitive with myself, I can get so much more done – so much faster! microactions, gotta love ’em
When I wrote the post entitled The Underwear Principle and now, underwear. step by step., I mentioned that I had applied this principle in other situations in my life. One of those situations involved my son.
FavoriteSon attended a Montessori pre-school from age three to five. The Montessori philosophy encourages independent work and allows the students to physically move around the classroom during the day. The “lessons” are clearly defined as separate activities with very specific, step by step instructions which follow the “left to right” and “top to bottom” concept employed by reading. The classroom was lined with low shelves on which sat rows of restaurant trays. On each tray were most, if not all the components of each lesson. It was the perfect learning environment for FavoriteSon at the time. (There’s a lot more to the Montessori philosophy, but I’ve covered what relates to the background of my situation.)
When it came time for 1st grade, we moved FavoriteSon to a traditional classroom environment at a non-denominational Christian school and it quickly became apparent that he was having a difficult time making the adjustment.
Someone, I don’t remember who, used the term “ADD.”
So I applied the The Underwear Principle:
Step 1: I didn’t approach the situation from any pre-conceived notion of how things “should” be. I opened my mind to the possibility that I DIDN’T KNOW what the problem was. I didn’t assume that my current knowledge and past experiences were enough to lead me to a conclusion, a diagnosis, a punishment strategy, or a resolution. I admitted that the “answer” might be different than anything I could think up on my own. Even worse, I had to consider the possibility that my parenting style was influencing the situation as well. (yeah. not liking that idea.)
Step 2: I tried to stay focused on the fact that my little boy wanted to learn. He wanted to behave appropriately. I understood that he was faced with an obstacle he couldn’t overcome without our help. We didn’t punish him or lecture him. We didn’t want him to feel defeated by school in the first grade.
Step 3: I analyzed what was happening. I took into account as much information as I could – the actual behaviors, the time of day, any possible cause and effect or trigger, his seating assignment – if there was ANY information available, I wanted to include it in my analysis.
The classroom layout was structured and decorated very differently from what he had experienced before, with the “lines” for each learning activity now blurred. There were no more distinct, individual tasks or lessons. Rather, unrelated information surrounded him on every wall. Not only was FavoriteSon no longer encouraged to move around the classroom during the day, but now he was actually discouraged from doing so. No more independent study or activities. Now, everyone worked on the same lesson together. When the teacher spoke to the children, she most often spoke to them as a group, rarely speaking directly to each individual child and making eye contact. The teacher reported that FavoriteSon frequently spoke out during class – but often, when he did so, it appeared as if he was talking to himself. He sometimes didn’t seem to hear her when she spoke to him. He often continued with lessons and activities after the teacher had concluded and moved on to the next lesson. Almost every morning he disrupted the class by talking to his classmates.
Step 4: I began researching the possibilities. I read books and articles, searched the internet, talked to other parents, teachers, counselors and even kids. The first thing I did was read some books on ADD.
FavoriteSon was displaying a few signs of ADD. One I noticed immediately was “hyperfocus.” If he was fully engaged in a task, he didn’t seem to notice anything around him. That’s what he was doing when he continued the lessons after the rest of the class had moved on to the next activity. I used to do that as a child when I was reading, and I never thought much of it. But FavoriteSon took it to the extreme. If he was interested and engaged in what he was doing, it was VERY difficult to get his attention. And not so much fun to get him to stop the activity. So what did this mean? Was there anything I could do about it? Back to the books.
I zeroed in on Chapter 10, Addressing the Imbalance: Non-Drug Treatments for ADD, in the book, “Running on Ritalin,” by Lawrence H. Diller, M.D. In the section entitled Behavioral Training: An Indispensable Tool, he suggested an interesting concept: (emphasis added)
Structure tasks into smaller components. For example, instead of telling a child, “Clean your room,” break the job down into stages: “First pick up your clothes off the floor and then put them in the hamper.”
I had an “Ah HA!” moment. I realized that, for my son, the instructions “Clean your room.” or “Do your homework.” were:
1. Too abstract. With so many things to do in order to accomplish that task, he was paralyzed and didn’t know where to start.
2. Too overwhelming. The job seemed bigger than it really was.
3. Too confusing. We didn’t have the same ideas with regard to what “clean” was when it came to his room. To him, it was clean. There were just toys and clothes on the floor.
(I read a LOT more and talked to a LOT more people, but it’s just too much to relay here. I’ll note some book resources at the end of this post.)
Armed with a plethora of information, it was time to turn all this knowledge and theory into action.
Step 5:
First, I wanted to rule out any physical problems, so I took FavoriteSon to the doctor for a checkup and had his hearing checked. His pediatrician didn’t discover anything unusual and his hearing was fine.
Secondly, I tried Dr. Miller’s suggestion to break things up into smaller components. I started at home. I gave short, step by step instructions for chores, homework – even bathing:
Instead of “clean up your room,” I said, “Pick up all your Rescue Heroes and stand them up on the shelves, please.” The first time, I said “put them on the shelf” and he PILED them on the shelf – but he had done what I asked. After a few times, he started to put all the water guys on one shelf, all the firefighters on another . . . my freakishly organized tendencies manifesting themselves in my son. I was so proud.
Instead of “Do your homework.” I said, “Hmm, how old are you? 6? If you do 6 math problems you can play for 12 minutes.” The first time he did his 6 problems in less than 5 minutes. After a few times of this “little bit of homework, little bit of play” he did his 6 math problems, I set the timer for 12 minutes and when the time was up, I said, “Hey bud, it’s time for 6 more problems.” He grinned and, without even looking up from the video game he was playing, he said, “Nuh uh. I finished all my math.” Little stinker had done ALL his math problems in one sitting. Because when he sat down to do them, he was only faced with the small, manageable task of completing 6 of them. (microactions, gotta love ’em) I wondered why it took him a little longer that day. I just thought the problems were harder.
Instead of “Take a shower.” I said, “Pop in the shower and get your hair wet, please.” followed by “Get some shampoo in your hands and make bubbles before you put it on your head.” He used to spend way too much time in the shower and come out dry and dirty. Now, he had a clear understanding of what to do. I just walked by the bathroom door every few minutes to remind him what he was supposed to do next. If I didn’t, he would get distracted and we would hear him singing – and not washing.
It was amazing. Everything I asked FavoriteSon to do, he did. Fast. With fairly good attitude. So, I spoke to the teacher and explained what I had learned and what we had tried at home. She began modifying the way she gave instructions and reported that she noticed immediate, significant improvement. Lessons were completed, there were less instances of hyper focus and generally, he was doing better in school.
But he was still talking in class – to himself and to the other kids. I recalled something I read in Dr. Miller’s book, Running on Ritalin:
“The family of drugs to which Ritalin belongs – the stimulants – has been both a blessing and a blight on humankind. The stimulants, which include such drugs as caffeine, cocaine and amphetamine, are so named because of their generalized effects on the body’s organ systems, particularly on the heart, blood vessels, and brain. Stimulants increase blood pressure; they make the individual less sleepy. Stimulants such as coca leaves and tobacco have been used for centuries by indigenous peoples for there energizing, pain killing or medicinal properties. Many of us can’t start the day without our hit of caffeine.”
I drink coffee every morning. At least two cups. And we’re not talking 8 ounce cups. Who’s to say FavoriteSon couldn’t have a little Coke instead of a little Ritalin? And weren’t those tiny little half size cans just perfect for this little experiment? Bingo. He had his little can of Coke during snack every morning and the talking lessened. Significantly. (He was in 1st grade, did you really think he would completely stop talking in class?)
A few years later, we had his vision checked and found out that FavoriteSon was nearsighted and needed glasses to correct his vision. Was that another problem for him that we didn’t discover at that time?
So, looking back, I’m not sure. Did FavoriteSon have mild ADD? Or did he, like his sister, have problems with his blood sugar? Or both? Did his experience in Montessori school lead to some of the problems he had adjusting to the traditional environment? Was I a bad mom all those years for not realizing that one of the reasons he seemed so disinterested looking at alligators in the lake we drive over was because he couldn’t see them?
I’m not going to spend time on the diagnosis (or blaming myself) now and I didn’t focus on it then. What I DID do was take action. I applied The Underwear Principle, step by step.
For us, it worked. And make no mistake, as nice and neat as this wrote up, we didn’t live it out so smoothly. See, it’s easy to do all the stuff we did. But to do it consistently, over and over and over, every day, without giving in?
I explained the origin of my foundational organization philosophy in the The Underwear Principle. I’m going to “strip it down” into steps which can be applied in many situations, so it can be used as more than just an organizational tool.
The Underwear Principle, Step by Step:
Step 1:
Let it go. I have to pry my white knuckled fingers off of “MY Way.” I have to consider that “different” isn’t wrong and I can’t force anyone to follow my directions. At least not in the long run.
Step 2:
I have to accept whoever is contributing to the problem. Even if it’s ME. In my family, I know that they are not purposely trying to sabotage me (or make me bang my head on the nearest table in frustration). I try to stay focused on what’s really important. People and relationships. I’m making memories. I want them to be good ones, with no flashbacks of me looking like Cruella DeVille on a self-centered rampage.
Step 3:
I HAVE to pay attention. I HAVE to watch what happens naturally and figure out why. Is someone doing something a certain way because they are taking the path of least resistance? Is there an obstacle I don’t understand?
Step 4:
My favorite part. I gather information. I get to learn stuff. From any source. Books, the internet, magazines and periodicals, friends, family . . . I gather ideas with the mindset that I can figure out how to solve the problem. Some ideas I hate and immediately discard. I might take other ideas and twist or build on them a little to customize something for my situation. Some ideas might be great right from the start.
Step 5:
I implement changes based on what I learned and then watch to see how others react. I don’t change everything at once.
Step 6: Modify and Repeat. Circumstances change and I have to adapt. Application of The Underwear Principle is never a done deal. Some changes don’t work. Some changes make improvements, but don’t work completely. It requires modification over time.
The Underwear Principle can be applied in so many other situations. In the coming weeks and months, I’ll post some of my experiences applying it. See the original Underwear Principle post for links.
Do you have an “Underwear Principle” story? I’d love to hear it!
I frequently respond to a commentor within their comment. In WordPress, it’s super easy. There are other ways, but my favorite is the laziest way:
I view the comments on a post while logged into WordPress. In many templates, the word “edit” will appear next to each comment, along with the commentor’s name and the date of the comment. (click on the image below to see it more clearly)
I just click edit.
How do you edit comments on Blogger? It doesn’t look like you can. After a search, I found a Q&A that read like this:
Question: “Someone left a comment on my blog and they made a spelling mistake. I could care less. But they do I guess and want me to edit their comment to fix their spelling mistake is there any way I can do that?
Answer: Not native Blogger comments – with Blogger, you take them or leave them.
So in Blogger, it appears you have to just make your own comment on your post if you want to reply to a comment there. That’s also what I’ve seen Shannon do on Rocks in My Dryer and she’s on Typepad.
My “best practices” for responding to a comment within a comment? I italicize and indent my response, I place it in parenthesis and I add “by JSM” to differentiate the comment from the response. Save. Done.
UPDATE: After the steering column repair, we hooked up the boat trailer. At our first stop (the gas station) the truck wouldn’t come out of park. Long story short? It was the fuse for the brake lights. It blew when we hooked up the lights for the trailer. Unhooked the lights, changed the fuse. Back in business. So did we need a new steering column? Yes. Could it have lasted a little longer? Probably. would I have wanted to be driving it when the steering column finally gave out? Definitely not.
$1,100.17
and three days.
In case you missed it, we had a little problem with our truck. To be a little more specific, here’s the voice mail message from our mechanic:
Hello Mr. and Mrs. Mills, this is HardWorkingMechanic. I just got off the phone with Mr. Mills, and told him that I had found a steering column for him in California, which I had, but by the time I called, it was sold. (pause) There are no others in the country that I know of. (pause) There are no others that I have been able to find at this time. (pause) I don’t really know what to say at this time. But I uh, cannot find a steering column for this vehicle and unless a miracle happens, we cannot fix this vehicle at this time. (long pause) So, call us back at . . .
FirstHusband was on travel, so I called back. HardWorkingMechanic went through even more details. It turns out there’s a nationwide network of junkyards. The first steering column he found was in Jacksonville, Florida, but when he called, it had sold 4 hours earlier. The second column, the one he was referring to in the voice mail, sold right out from under him. The next day, a new resource led him to a third column, located in Clearwater, Florida, and he jumped on it! Unfortunately, when they went to pull it from the vehicle (in a junkyard), they discovered it had been stolen.
So I asked, “Is there any other column that could be fitted or modified?” (the optimism stemming from incredulous disbelief at this situation)
Maybe. There were more than a few configurations of this steering column. Ours had no airbag, it had tilt and it had cruise control. Finding a steering column with an airbag was easy. Unfortunately, the airbag wouldn’t fit inside the steering column casing on our truck, so that was out. HardWorking Mechanic thought he might be able to find a non-airbag steering column without tilt or cruise control.
no cruise control? For me? I am 5 feet 4 inches tall and this is a Ford F250. My feet don’t touch the floor when I sit on the couch in my living room. So, no cruise control would be . . . inconvenient when I drive the truck. For FirstHusband? It’s about comfort and gas mileage. He gets better gas mileage when he uses the cruise control.
tilt? I don’t need no stinking tilt.
So, the searching begins again. I find three rebuilt steering columns (with no tilt) on ebay with a “Buy it Now” of $250. HardWorkingMechanic reminds me that if HE finds one and it doesn’t work, he can send it back. ebay? Not so much. We agree that he should exhaust his sources before we buy one of the ebay steering columns.
Wednesday passes. Thursday. At 4:30 the phone rings:
I say, “How ya doing?
HardWorkingMechanic: pretty good.
Me: “How are we doing?”
HardWorkingMechanic: “Do you want your truck back? It’s ready.”
Me: “NO WAY!”
HardWorkingMechanic: “Yep. We got a steering column with an airbag and used the parts from it to rebuild yours. It doesn’t have tilt, but it does have cruise.”
So, we don’t have to replace the truck. We don’t have to sell our boat to buy another vehicle and take on a payment. We picked up the truck this morning.
Not that we need it this weekend, mind you, because we are going boating. The truck’s last trip before “steering column death” was to take the boat to dry storage in the marina at Cape Canaveral. We call, they put it in the water for us by the time we get there, and we spend the day on the Banana River, getting to know our new boat.
Thanks to everyone who asked their husbands about this! Thanks for the good wishes, the sympathy and the prayers.
okay. We WAITED to buy a boat until we could pay for it, so we didn’t have to go into debt. We bought a boat on Saturday. We really like the boat.
On Monday, FirstHusband hooked up the trailer lights, got the boat registered and insured and towed it over to the coast for dry storage. (Which is VERY cool! We call and say, “Hey, yo! We want to take our boat out today!” and they put it in the water for us by the time we get there! Woo Hoo! We also save on gas because instead of driving a Ford F250 with a 22 foot boat behind it, we get to drive a mini-van instead!) So, it’s all good.
FirstHusband drives back from the coast with an empty boat trailer, parks in front of our house and . . . the truck won’t come out of gear. It’s stuck in “Park” and it will NOT move. We had it towed this morning (thank you dear insurance company, for towing reimbursement).
Long story short? Anybody got a USED steering column for a 1996 Ford F250? One withOUT airbags? But preferably WITH tilt and cruise control? Seems we have a “special” steering column. A steering column we may not even be able to get NEW even if we wanted to pay for one. Because our truck is so very old.
arg.
and “arg” again.
But. I’m looking at the bright side. We get to go out in the boat on Saturday because we don’t have to tow it over to the coast. It’s already there. And it will already be in the water. And I’m taking a fiction book.
gotta go. off to ebay motors, parts and accessories.
I love any gadget that makes my life easier and speeds up a job! I got a beautiful ceramic knife for Christmas two years ago and I used to dice red, yellow and orange peppers by hand. Not anymore! Check out the time on the little red clock.
I PROMISE you – I did NOT touch that little red clock! I just LOVE this thing! Chopped onions are a breeze!
Mine has two blade sizes, so you can dice even smaller than what you see in these pictures. And it’s DISHWASHER SAFE! The best $20 I spent last year! (and, no. I didn’t get paid to write this – I just really like it.)
So how do you enter to win this book? Make a suggestion in a comment! Don’t have a suggestion? Just leave any comment and you’ll be entered to win!
Don’t want this week’s book(s) but still have a suggestion? Add “no thanks” to your comment.
My request today? Suggest a name for our “new” boat!
Since I have two copies of this week’s book, I’m actually going to expand this drawing a little bit – everyone can ENTER TWICE.
If you want to make sure you get in the drawing for the book, just enter ANY comment now. I will award Simple Abundance to a random winner.
If you want to think about a boat name and leave your comment later, do that too. That way, you won’t miss the drawing if you forget to come back before Sunday night. If we actually pick YOUR suggestion, you will win both Simple Abundance AND the audio tape edition of Something More: Excavating Your Authentic Self, also by Sarah Ban Breathnach.
The Details: We bought a boat on Saturday! We used to own a boat (pre-kiddos) and since the kids are older now, we think it’s time we introduced them to our love of saltwater fishing. We’ve actually wanted to buy another boat for while now, but we waited until we could afford it and we’re so glad we did. It wouldn’t be very relaxing to go out for a little stress relief on a boat that owns US, instead of the other way around.
We named our first boat “The Briar Patch.” For this boat, we’re leaning toward the name “The Briar Patch II,” but we want to consider other options first. FirstHusband says a 22 foot boat is too small to have a name, but that mindset has been overruled by the rest of the family. He also has the idea that we may even head on out on a Friday night and spend the night on the boat so we will wake up on Saturday morning and not face the hour long drive to the coast. hmmm. we’ll see. (It does have a porta potty.)
Notes:
Only the comments on THIS post will be eligible to win.
If your comment “signature” doesn’t link to any contact info:
please include your email in the comment or check back to see if you won!
The books I give away here are usually “treasures” in “very good ” to “like new” condition.
I’m trying to give away a book a week, so I can only afford to ship within the U.S. So sorry!
Check out the list of previous winners and the books they won!
I’ll close comments Sunday evening, April 13th and use a random number generator to pick a winner!
Thanks to my longtime friend, Renee for the following reminder. This is what I was feeling and talking about when I wrote the devotions “i want no regrets” and “what’s next?” on Pragmatic Communion.
“A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous “yes.”
The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.
“Now,” said the professor as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.
The sand is everything else—the small stuff. “If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.
Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first—the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.
One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled and said, “I’m glad you asked.”
The coffee just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.”
I’ve heard this story before, but with rocks instead of golf balls. I had never heard the ingredients include coffee before.
Renee, since we live so far apart, we’re gonna need to have “virtual” coffee. Don’t you just LOVE free mobile to mobile?
I read, therefore I quote. I can’t help it. It’s what I do.
“Microactions have become the cornerstone of my own attempts at balance. “Steps” did not always work for me. They seemed too big because they required that I give up control, make a commitment, and risk failure. (These are not my three favorite things to do.) Microactions get around my fears because I stay in control, commit to something so small I could hardly fear it, and I am guaranteed success. I am surprisingly easy to outsmart . . .
. . . Microactions really work. I use them on myself all the time. For example, I want to do two hundred sit-ups a day: one hundred first thing in the morning and one hundred the last thing at night . . . My goal is 1,400 a week. Can I commit to 1,400 sit-ups a week? Not on your life. So I tell myelf I have to do only one sit-up. Who can do only one sit-up? I do one and then when I’m down there I do ninety-nine more. I don’t dislike doing sit-ups, I dislike thinking about making myself do sit-ups. I hate the feeling I must do them and that if I don’t, I am somehow “bad.” So I trick myself into it and get past the barrier.
Do I do 1,400 sit-ups every week? Of course not. Some days I do one sit-up twice a day. Sometimes I do twenty-five. And, I am proud to say, sometimes I do two hundred.”
, also by Sarah Ban Breathnach.