Yesterday I took all three girls to the doctor for the Preschooler’s 5-year old check-up. This is the visit where they ask all kinds of questions about kindergarten readiness. {I can’t believe we’re already using the “k” word in conversation. Surely she’s not that old…}. Normally, I would never take everyone to the pediatrician’s office at the same time. With a small waiting room, predictably long wait times, and the guarantee of being holed up in a windowless 10×10 room for over an hour with only one small basket of books for amusement and an inner ear chart that the Toddler is obsessed with discussing in detail, it’s really no place for all four of us to camp out. But, circumstances made it necessary to bravely go where no wise parent would go… straight into the little exam room with all three ducklings.
Conveniently, the Preschooler considers going to the doctor to be an exciting outing. This is her {prior to her shots}, anxiously awaiting her turn to speak with the doctor. {Note how she looks like she’s about to get on her favorite ride at Disney World}.
After the shots, she became a little more mellow and declared that her leg hurt “too bad to eat anywhere except McDonalds.” Sadly for her, I have an aversion to McDonald’s and she had to settle for Chick-fil-A. But, I think the ice cream made up for the compromise.
Just to yet again illustrate the personality differences between the Preschooler and the Toddler, this is the Toddler at her 3-year old check-up last month. {Note how she looks like someone just told her that her puppy died}.
She didn’t even have to get a shot at her visit, but the Toddler knows that going to the doctor is serious business. You can’t trust people in scrubs, and it’s certainly no time to be smiling for pictures…
The Toddler doesn’t have the patience necessary for a lengthy trip to the doctor. She’s really more suited for an urgent care clinic with an emphasis on the word “urgent.” So, yesterday, when it was taking an extremely long time for the doctor to get to our room, she turned into a bear and announced that she wanted to “get out of this room right this second!” {Note what has become her signature snarl}.
No one was more ready to get out of that room than me, but the doctor knocked at the door just in the nick of time.
Everything went well with the exam and we were set to go when I brought up one last question I had about the Preschooler’s temperament. At our parent conference a few weeks ago, her preschool teacher mentioned that she has a tendency to get anxious about things at school, particularly new projects and skills. For example, if they’re working on a special craft or a new skill, she gets very nervous if she doesn’t have all of her supplies and know exactly what she’s supposed to be doing and how the finished project should look. And, if she’s not certain she can immediately master it or put it together herself, then she’d rather not do it at all. She tends to get all worked up about the possibility of failing before she ever really tries. So, their challenge for her at preschool has been to reassure her with the mantra, “I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.” {This is why I love the preschool}. Basically, she has some performance anxiety that could perhaps be traced back to the matriarchal side of her family tree.
So, I told all of this to the pediatrician to get his advice on how we could lessen her anxiety. And, that’s when he drew this graph that he had read about to illustrate what happens with perfectionism and performance:
He explained that a little bit of anxiety is good for boosting performance {since on the other end of the spectrum you have those who don’t care enough to ever do well}. But, at a certain point the anxiety/performance line plateaus. Beyond that point, the increased anxiety actually causes one’s performance to decline. The goal, he said, is to “parent your children to stay in this area” as he pointed to the circled area above.
That’s all well and good.
But, at that point, I had to explain to him how my goal is to keep myself in the aforementioned area. Because I may or may not have a tendency to jump off the anxiety chart altogether. {Would you believe that he said, “Yes, I know, I know.” in agreement with me? Surely it’s not that apparent}.
So, the next time I start wondering aloud at night to the Spouse that I don’t know why the Preschooler would be exhibiting anxiety at school… I must remember that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Especially not when the tree tends to be a little shaky.
And, hopefully I’ll remember…
“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” {1 Peter 5:7; NIV}
Hard to believe. Even harder to do.
But, in a mind-boggling, mysterious way I think it’s true. He cares. He cares for me. He cares for you. He cares for the Preschooler.
And, He’d be glad to help all of us find our plateau.
And, just being mindful of that brings me down a few notches on the lefthand side of that graph.
Adorable pics!!