Adventures in Child Psychology

(I'm justifying this post because it centers around mental energy, which, like natural resources, is important not to waste!)

This week, I am reading Rapt by Winifred Gallagher. So far, it is a fascinating read, although I wish she would go into more detail about the practical applications of the research and experiments she describes. In a nutshell, the premise of the book is that our reality is what we pay attention to, so if we pay attention to the positive things we will experience a more positive life. Which is great in theory (who doesn't want that?!) but how do you make it happen?

Enter stage left: my six year old.

Late Sunday morning she appeared droopy, and I speculated out loud whether she might be coming down with something. The weather was gorgeous: low humidity, few clouds, mid-seventies with a light breeze. She complained she was cold, and spent her outdoors time bundled in a jacket, languishing in the sun.

Surely she was sick, I said!

After a few hours gardening, I relaxed in the sun for a while, and she stayed right with me despite my encouragement to go inside, or at least rest in the shade. Later in the afternoon she fell asleep (in the shade, thank goodness!) in one of the deck chairs. Her temperature was 103. We moved her indoors and bundled her up on the couch.

There was now no doubt she was sick. Which was too bad: Monday was the last full day of school, and to celebrate the kids were staging a "beach day". The poor dear was distraught over the possibility she would miss school the next day. Any parent who's had a sick kid (um, that would be every parent) would have recognized the tremulous whine and lethargy that are the hallmarks of the truly ill child.

But what if it wasn't real?

About 5:30 it dawned on me. Maybe she created a reality of being sick because I mentioned it, and she believed it, and then she selectively focused her attention on how crappy she felt? That's what could happen, if Gallagher is to be believed.

So I started telling her she was perfectly fine. Dehydrated, yes. Overheated from so much time in the sun, definitely. Still tired from a late night at a friend's house the night before, no doubt. I engaged her in talking about what to pack for Beach Day. (The conversation was punctuated by the plaintive whine, "But what if I'm too sick tomorrow?") I told her she had to have a bath. ("But I'm so cold!") I gave her some medicine for the fever, started making her sip water every few minutes.

"You're fine," I told her over and over. "Tired, overheated, and dehydrated, but these are all things we can fix."

Part way through her bath, IT happened.

She started arguing with me. Somewhere in all the whimpering about being cold, she summoned the strength to disagree; and while I normally disapprove, this time I said, "See, you must be feeling better, if you can argue with me!"

"I'm not arguing!"

"See, you did it again!"

She started giggling. The end-of-the-world wailing had stopped. By 6:30 - in the space of an hour - she had completely turned around, and was back outside blowing bubbles. Her fever had dropped to 100.2. Her attitude had completely changed.. No more languishing on the couch with not even enough energy to lift her head to drink some water.

I was blown away. I'm still dazed by what happened. I had hoped it would work, but didn't really think it would work THAT well!

I need to start paying more attention to everything I say to both her, and her sister, from now on. Who knows what other unintended consequences a parent's words might have on a child's reality!