Mental Calm

This morning, as an act of creative parental desperation, I spent the car ride to school, a twenty-six-mile car ride, teaching my daughter the words to the infamous Rodgers and Hammerstein song “My Favorite Things.” Popularized by Julie Andrews, the song, sung by Fraulein Maria to the Von Trapp children, was an attempt to counter immobilizing fears.

Watching my daughter’s expression through the rear-view mirror, I sang the words trying to convince her that instead of focusing on dread and worry, she could alter her own thinking. She could be the master over her own emotions. My three-year-old covered his ears. “Stop that,” he screamed. “I don’t like that.” My daughter rolled her eyes and watched me half perplexed, half embarrassed. I know I must have seemed like a crazy woman in her eyes. But, I was desperate.

I continued to belt out the song in faux theatrical fashion, half wondering if this tact might, at least, have a temporary effect..

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things

For much of the school year, she’d been having emotional, teary meltdowns. Any time she felt challenged by a new concept—a math worksheet, a new sentence to write, a song she couldn’t remember the words to—she became frustrated. Her anxiety would well up like geyser, threatening to blow at any moment. I understood her—she, like so many of us, was afraid of being imperfect, of making a mistake. As a result, she became immobilized with performance anxiety. In some ways, she felt it was better not to try, than to fail and only further reinforce her own sense of failings.

I imagined her during the tantrums, how her muscular body grew limp, how she draped it over her chair like an old coat, how she slithered to the classroom floor, and lay there like a beached whale. I know I shouldn’t laugh; but, it was hard not to. At some point, I realized, she needed to learn some other coping skills, needed to learn some self calming techniques.

Ever since my early days of selling Mary Kay, I’d been brainwashed (er, trained) in the importance of saying daily affirmations, or engaging in self talk. Daily affirmations were key in maintaining a positive outlook, in setting positive goals, and in shaping others perspectives. In the 80s, self talk was just becoming popularized by Al Franken’s SNL character, Stuart Smalley, a self-proclaimed therapist who chanted a daily mantra to his mirrored reflection. “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And gosh darn, people like me.” The concept was that you have to tell yourself each day the message you want your brain to absorb. Anthony Robbins, the ever popular life-coach guru made zillions of dollars promoting a similar idea through a line of training programs, tapes, and CD’s also. And most recently, books like The Secret and Law of Attractions reiterated the idea that positive energy attracts positive; negative energy attracts the negative. So, if we manage our thoughts and emotions, affirm each day what direction we want our life to take, then it will happen.

Okay, back to my daughter. I figured, on a very simplistic level, if I taught her a new philosophy, a more positive way to think about herself and her experiences, then approaching novel experiences might not make her so anxious.

From the back of the car, my daughter rolled her eyes and kicked the front seat out of embarrassment. Sometimes we parents really make our children uncomfortable. While singing the first stanza, my daughter interrupted.

“I’m never going to remember those words.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s name some of your favorite things. What things make you feel safe—cuddling in your princess blanket? Drawing? Doing arts and crafts?

“Marshmallows,” she added

As we turned off the highway onto her school’s street, I finished singing the final refrain while my three-year-old covered his ears and screamed “stop! I don’t like that.”

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

What a dweeb I am; I always did love this song. But, if through unconventional means, I could help my daughter think of her experiences and herself in a more positive light, then perhaps this idiocy was worth it. At the least, I kept my children guessing.

Sitting in the school driveway, I watched my daughter wheel her backpack to the school entrance, and then admired how she waited for one of her teachers, helped her carry some supplies, and held the door open for her. What a great daughter I have!

At the end of the day, her teacher gave me the hand signal—not great; but not bad either. I hugged my daughter, asked her if she tried the song.

“No, I couldn’t remember it.”

She showed me her latest arts and crafts project, one that I know she put her heart and soul into. I marveled over it knowing that it offered her great comfort and pride to create.

“You really love to draw. I can tell it makes you feel really happy inside,”

“Yeah,” she said switching gears. “Can we get a snack on the way home?”

Some days I just want to let her in on a secret. I just want to tell her that her teachers and most grownups will leave her alone, will get off her back, if she just plays by their rules. But I know it’s still a little too soon for that philosophy. It’s just a little too sophisticated for her. I think I’ll stick with positive affirmations. I think I’ll reinforce the message that happiness is a state of mind.