Pavlov in Action

I am sad to say that throughout my life I have identified more with Pavlov's dog than with Pavlov. Each September, after I received my teaching schedule for the year, I would begin to train my body to respond to the bells of the day. For instance, after the fourth bell I could pee and have my snack. At around the eleventh bell, I could have my lunch…so on and so forth. I knew my response was bell driven as opposed to time driven because on condensed schedule days, I would not only be eating my lunch at 10 in the morning but I would also be hungry for it. Since leaving the classroom, I have relished in the lack of bells in my life. It is rather liberating to take care of bodily needs according to my body's prompting and not due to some external stimuli. Still, I have my moments wondering if Pavlov remains in control.


This has been on the forefront of my mind lately due to Angela's emergent language and obsession with cookies. One day she noticed a box of cookies on the kitchen counter. She pointed to them and said, "Good girl." I had to laugh and provide her with the desired cookie for such cuteness. Now, whenever she wants a cookie, she points to the box and says, "Cookie. Good Girl." I am ashamed to admit that it gets me every time. There is part of me that wonders if I am setting her up for a lifetime of food/behavioral issues. Additionally, there is a part of me which wonders if she has trained me exceptionally well already. Regardless, I am just going to enjoy the cuteness and let the chips fall where they may. Now if I could just overcome the need for a belly rub and to pee outside….

Caught…by a Two Year Old…

Last week we had our new refrigerator delivered. Pre- delivery John and I made a concerted effort to use up much of the stuff in the fridge and freezer. We figured it would make it easier to empty out the old if there was less stuff to move before the new one arrived. I determined milk levels perfectly (yet another one of those abilities one acquires with children). Alice had enough milk to see her through to the delivery time as long as I kept her to her usual quota. My daughter, aka “The Dairy Whore”, however did not want to cooperate with my finally laid plan. The night before our delivery was due she stood before the refrigerator demanding, “Milk, more milk.”

Thankfully, Alice is not able to open the doors on her own, so I decided to use this lack of ability to my advantage. I calmly said to her, “Sorry Alice but we don’t have any more milk. I have to buy some tomorrow.” My rational parent brain knew I could not explain to a two year old that if she drank the milk that was in the fridge now she would not have any in the morning. Delayed gratification is not a forte among two year olds. With my lie now justified in my mind, I proceeded to get dinner on the table. Alice would not be deterred. She remained standing at her post now with her hand on the door handle. She demanded that I “open it” because “I saw it there.” I was stunned. Not only did she use a full sentence; not only did she show remarkable powers of observation, but she caught me in a lie. It is funny how one can be proud and ashamed all at the same time.