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Today's episode is based on the children's story Bread and Jam for Frances by Russell Hoban, illustrated by Lillian Hoban. You might be familiar with this story. It was written in 1964. So like me, you might have even heard it as a kid and you might have read it to your children. I am now reading it to my three-year old grandson and it has become his favorite story.

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When he's at our house and it's nap time, he chooses a story. This is the one he has been choosing for several weeks. When they come over for dinner and it's time to leave for him to go home and go to bed, he gets a story. He's chosen this one. So I have read this probably a couple dozen times in the last month or two. And every time I read it, I get a family systems nugget that tells me, man, this story is a great illustration of family systems principles.

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I'm going to read the story all the way through. I'll also put a link to it in the show notes. I just today purchased it for my two grand nephews and also for a grand niece. After I have read the story in its entirety, I'm going to go back and parse through different sections to pull out the family systems theory principles that it demonstrates. Before we get started, you should know that Frances is a badger and she is in your quintessential Badger family with a Mother, a Father and a little sister, Gloria. Here is Bread and Jam for Frances.

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It was breakfast time and everyone was at the table. Father was eating his egg. Mother was eating her egg, Gloria was sitting in a high chair and eating her egg, too. Frances was eating bread and jam.

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"What a lovely egg," said Father. "If there is one thing I am fond of for breakfast, it is a soft boiled egg."

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"Yes," said Mother, spooning up egg for the baby, "it's just the thing to start the day off, right?"

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"Ah!" said Gloria, and ate up her egg.

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Frances did not eat her egg. She sang a little song to it. She sang the song very softly:

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"I do not like the way you slide. I do not like your soft inside. I do not like you lots of ways and I could do for many days without eggs."

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"What did you say, Frances ?" asked Father.

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"Nothing," said Frances, spreading jam on another slice of bread.

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"Why do you keep eating bread and jam," asked Father, "when you have a lovely soft boiled egg?"

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"One of the reasons I like bread and jam," said Frances, "is that it does not slide off your spoon in a funny way."

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"Well, of course," said Father, "not everyone is fond of soft boiled eggs for breakfast. But there are other kinds of eggs. There are-sunny-side up and sunny-side-down eggs."

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"Yes, "said Frances. "But sunny-side-up eggs lie on the plate and look up at you in a funny way. And sunny-side-down eggs just lie on their stomachs and wait."

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"What about scrambled eggs?" said Father.

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"Scrambled eggs fall off the fork and roll under the table," said Frances.

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"I think it is time for you to go to school now," said Mother.

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Frances picked up her books, her lunchbox and her skipping rope. Then she kissed Mother and Father goodbye and went to the bus stop. While she waited for the bus, she skipped and sang:

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"Jam on biscuits, jam on toast, jam is the thing that I like the most. Jam is sticky. Jam is sweet. Jam is tasty. Jam's a treat. Raspberry, strawberry, gooseberry, I'm very FOND...OF...JAM!"

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That evening for dinner, Mother cooked breaded veal cutlets, with string beans and baked potatoes. "Ah!" said Father. "What is their handsomer on a plate and tastier to eat than breaded veal cutlet!"

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"It is a nice dish, isn't it?" said Mother. "Eat up the string bean, Gloria."

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"Oh!" said Gloria, and ate it up. She had already eaten her dinner of strained beef and sweet potatoes, but she'd like to practice with a string bean when she could.

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"Where do breaded veal cutlets come from?" asked Frances. "And why are French-cut stringless beans called string beans?"

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"We can talk about that another time," said Father. "Now it is time to eat our dinner."

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Frances looked at her plate and sang:

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"What do cutlets wear before they're breaded? Flannel nightgowns? Cowboy boots? Furry jackets? Sailor suits?"

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Then she spread jam on a slice of bread and took a bite.

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"She won't try anything new," said Mother to Father. "She just eats Bread and jam."

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"How do you know what you'll like if you won't even try anything?" asked Father.

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"Well," said Frances, there are many different things to eat and they taste many different ways. But when I have bread and jam I always know what I am getting and I'm always pleased."

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"You try new things in your school lunches," said Mother. "Today I gave you a chicken-salad sandwich."

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"There, now!" said Father to Frances. "Wasn't it good?"

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"Well," said Frances, "I traded it to Albert."

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"For what?" said, Father.

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"Bread and jam," said Frances.

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The next morning at breakfast Father sat down and said, "Now I call that a pretty sight! Fresh orange juice and poached eggs on toast. There's a proper breakfast for you."

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"Thank you for saying so," said Mother. "Poached eggs on toast do have a cheery look, I think."

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Frances began to sing a poached egg song: "Poached Eggs on toast. Why do you shiver with such a funny little quiver?"

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Then she looked down and saw that she did not have a poached egg. "I have no poached egg," said Frances. "I have nothing but orange juice."

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"I know," said Mother.

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"Why is that?" said Frances. "Everyone else has a poached egg. Even Gloria has a poached egg, and she is nothing but a baby."

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"But you do not like eggs," said Mother, "and that is why I did not poach one for you. Have some bread and jam if you are hungry."

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So Frances ate bread and jam and went to school. When the bell rang for lunch, Frances sat down next to her friend Albert. "What do you have today?" said Frances.

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"I have a cream cheese-cucumber-and-tomato sandwich on rye bread," said Albert. "And a pickle to go with it. And a hard boiled egg and a little cardboard shaker of salt to go with that. And a thermos bottle of milk. And a bunch of grapes and a tangerine. And a cup custard and a spoon to eat it with. What you have?"

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Frances opened her lunch. "Bread and jam," she said, "and milk."

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"You're lucky," said Albert. "That's just what you like. You don't have to trade now."

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"That's right," said Frances. "And I had bread and jam for dinner last night and for breakfast this morning."

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"You certainly are lucky," said Albert.

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"Yes," said Frances. "I am a very lucky girl, I guess. But I'll trade if you want to."

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"That's all right," said Albert. "I like cream cheese with cucumbers and tomatoes on rye."

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Albert took two napkins from his lunchbox. He tucked one napkin under his chin. He spread the other one on his desk like a tablecloth. He arranged his lunch neatly on the napkin with a spoon. He cracked the shell of the hard-boiled egg. He peeled away the shell and bit off the end of the egg. He sprinkled salt on the yolk and set the egg down again. He unscrewed his thermos-bottle cup and filled it with milk. Then he was ready to eat his lunch.

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He took a bite of sandwich, a bite of pickle, a bite of hard-boiled egg and a drink of milk. Then he sprinkled more salt on the egg and went around again. Albert made the sandwich, the pickle, the egg and the milk come out even.

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He ate his bunch of grapes and his tangerine. Then he cleared away the crumpled-up wax paper, the eggshell and the tangerine peel. He set the cup custard in the middle of the napkin on his desk. He took up his spoon and ate up all the custard. Then Albert folded up his napkins and put them away. He put away his cardboard saltshaker and his spoon. He screwed the cup on top of his thermos bottle. He shut his lunchbox, put it back inside his desk and sighed.

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"I like to have a good lunch," said Albert. Frances ate her bread and jam and drank her milk.

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Then she went out to the playground and skipped rope. She did not skip as fast as she had sipped in the morning, and she sang:

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"Jam in the morning, jam at noon. Bread and jam by the light of the moon. Jam...Is...very...nice."

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When Frances got home from school, Mother said, "I know you like to have a little snack when you get home from school, and I have one all ready for you."

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"I do like snacks!" said Frances, running to the kitchen.

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"Here it is," said Mother. "A glass of milk and some nice bread and jam for you."

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"Aren't you worried that maybe I will get sick and all my teeth will fall out from eating so much bread and jam?" asked Frances.

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"I don't think that will happen for quite a while," said Mother. "So eat it all up and enjoy it."

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Frances ate up most of her bread and jam, but she did not eat all of it. After her snack, she went outside to skip rope. Frances skipped a little more slowly than she had skipped at noon, and she sang:

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"Jam for snacks and jam for meals. I know how a jam jar feels. FULL...OF...JAM!"

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That evening for dinner Mother cooked spaghetti and meatballs with tomato sauce.

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"I am glad to see there will be enough for second helpings," said Father. "Because spaghetti and meatballs is one of my favorite dishes."

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Spaghetti and meatballs is a favorite with everybody," said Mother. Try a little spaghetti, Gloria."

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"Um," said Gloria and tried the spaghetti.

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Frances looked down at her plate and saw that there was no spaghetti and meatballs on it. There was a slice of bread and a jar of jam. Frances began to cry.

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"My goodness!" said Mother. "Frances is crying!

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"What is the matter?" asked Father.

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Frances looked down at her plate and sang a little sad song. She sang so softly that Mother and Father could scarcely hear her:

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"What I am is tired of jam."

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"I want spaghetti and meatballs," said Frances. "May I have some, please?"

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"I had no idea ou liked spaghetti and meatballs," said Mother.

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"How do you know what I'll like if you won't even try me?" asked Frances, wiping her eyes.

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So Mother gave Frances spaghetti and meatballs and she ate it all up.

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The next day, when the bell rang for lunch, Albert said, "What do you have today?"

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"Well," said Frances, laying a paper doily on her desk and setting a little tiny base of violets in the middle of it, "let me see." She arranged her lunch on the doily. "I have a thermos bottle with cream of tomato soup," she said. "And a lobster salad sandwich on thin slices of white bread. I have celery, carrot sticks, and black olives and a little cardboard shaker of salt for the celery. And two plums and a tiny basket of cherries. And vanilla pudding with chocolate sprinkles and a spoon to eat it with."

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"That's a good lunch," said Albert. "I think it's nice that there are all different kinds of lunches and breakfasts and dinners and snacks. I think eating is nice."

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"So do I," said Frances. And she made the lobster salad sandwich, the celery, the carrot sticks and the olives come out even.

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End of story

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If you've been listening to this podcast for any amount of time, you may have picked up some of the family systems principles in this story, Bread and Jam for Frances. But I'm going to go back through and try to point out the main ones that I see.

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The first thing we find out is that Frances doesn't like eggs. We also learn that she loves bread and jam, hence the title of the book. From an emotional process standpoint, we might say that Frances is trying to self-differentiate in the midst of surrounding togetherness pressure. However, rather than just articulating to her parents that she likes jam, which she does, she also focuses on what she doesn't like, which is eggs. This sets up a potential conflict of wills where Frances is resolute in her dislike for any food that is not bread and jam, and her parents try to convince her that other foods are good and worth trying.

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Her Father falls into this trap early on by dealing with content. Instead of understanding the emotional process, he tries to convince her that there might be some kind of egg that she likes. In fact, he talks about sunny side up and sunny side down, and Frances replies with the kind of resistance that is typical of a conflict of wills.

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She says, "Sunny side up eggs lie on the plate and look up at you in a funny way. And sunny side down eggs just lie on their stomachs and wait."

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This seems like nonsense, but how often have you gotten into a conflict of wills with a family member, a church member, a co-worker, a boss or somebody who works for you? And the arguments that they put up, the resistance that they are giving, seems nonsensical. This is what happens in a conflict of wills. And of course, Frances remarks that scrambled eggs fall off the fork. What has developed from this seemingly innocent interaction is an emotional triangle where the focus is all on what Frances is eating.

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Mother is wise enough to recognize the conflict of wills, to not get into the content. She says, "I think it is time for you to go to school." She doesn't argue. She doesn't agree. She redirects Frances.

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The result of all this is that Frances skips rope and talks about how much he loves jam. It is making her love bread and jam even more. You may have experienced this when you have tried to convince another to agree with you. When you are focused on defining them. And not defining yourself, they are more likely to dig in their heels and resist.

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Mother serves breaded veal cutlets for dinner and Frances might be willing to try them. But her Father's gushing about how great breaded veal cutlets are likely has caused Frances to resist trying them even more. The conflict of wills is now deeply embedded in their meal time interactions. This sends Frances into a whole inquiry about exactly where breaded veal cutlets come from and what were they before they were breaded. She even sings a little song about it. Talk about getting bogged down in content.

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This time, both Mother and Father take the bait. Father asks, "How do you know what you'll like if you won't even try anything?" Frances' response is she always knows what she's getting when she has jam.

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Mother tries a different approach. She says, "Well, I gave you a chicken salad sandwich today in your lunch. You must have like that." But we find out that Frances traded it to her friend Albert for bread and jam. Notice the amount of energy that Mother and Father are exerting on trying to get Frances to bend according to their will. And as they do that, Frances digs in even deeper.

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The turning point comes at breakfast, Mother clearly understands the concept of paradox. As Edwin Friedman said, one of the hardest things to do is to push someone you love in the direction that you most fear.

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Now, not liking many foods is not something to really fear, but we can see how this can blossom into other things, like differing political beliefs, hanging out with the wrong people, and what college and career choices Frances might make. Mother knows better, so Mother does not give Frances a poached egg. Even so, Frances is still embroiled in the conflict of wills. She sings a song about poached eggs even before she knows that she doesn't have one.

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And we see how paradox works. Instead of Frances now pushing back, she says, "I have no poached egg. I have nothing but orange juice. Even Gloria has a poached egg."

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But Mother continues with the paradox and says, "You don't like eggs, go ahead and eat some bread and jam if you are hungry."

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Paradox is about calling the bluff of the dependent when they threaten us, when they try to leverage us into us doing what they want. If we call their bluff, all of a sudden it puts pressure on them to take responsibility for self. That's what's happening with Frances already. We can see it start to work because as she's singing a song about jam, she is trying to convince herself that she really does like jam.

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Mother continues her paradoxical approach by giving Frances only bread and jam for lunch. Things are worse because her friend Albert harps on how lucky she is that she only has to eat bread and jam, but we can see that she's already starting to waver. And she tells Albert that she would be willing to trade her bread and jam if Albert wanted to.

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This continues at snack time when Mother excitedly shares that she has a snack for Frances. Mother is actually being a little playful here. Frances gets excited, but when she finds out that it's only bread and jam, she is let down. Now, there's no real sabotage here, but Frances does question her Mother. She actually tries to now wiggle her way out of it. She asks, "Aren't you worried that maybe I will get sick and all my teeth will fall out from eating so much bread and jam?"

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This is where a Mother gets playful? "I don't think that will happen for quite a while. So eat it all up and enjoy it." Playful and paradoxical.

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Things come to a head at dinnertime when the rest of the family gets spaghetti and meatballs, and Frances gets more bread and jam. She starts to cry because she feels left out from the rest of the family. This highlights the balance, even the tension, between emotional connection and surrounding togetherness pressure. We need emotional connection, but we also need to be able to be ourselves. There's always this tension between the two and Frances is trying to find it.

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This also brings up the concept of pain and responsibility. If you look at Frances' face in this book and you see the tears running down her cheek, your heart may break like mine does. When I read the story, I don't want any little kid to feel upset. And it reminds me of the dilemma that we face when somebody we love, somebody we care about, is experiencing pain. But we also know that we can't take responsibility for somebody else's choices.

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In fact, taking responsibility will actually take away their responsibility. The only healthy recourse we have is to increase our own tolerance for the pain of others. When we are able to do this, we help them to embrace challenge and help them to develop the fortitude to overcome it. Conversely, when we have a lower pain threshold, and we rush in to try to fix it for others, not only do we make them less responsible, but they become less capable of taking responsibility for self.

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To Frances' credit, she doesn't have a fit. She doesn't yell at her mom and dad or blame them. What she does is she takes responsibility for self, and she says, "I want spaghetti and meatballs. May I have some, please?"

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She is able to express herself in a healthy way. Of course, all of this happens neatly over a few pages in a children's book. Most of our lives are much more complicated and much messier, but the concepts remain the same.

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If we can remain a non-anxious presence in the midst of others trying to exert their will, and if we can be paradoxical and even playful, we can create healthy emotional space. Further, if we are able to self regulate our own reactivity, we can avoid the conflict of wills. Finally, if we are able to manage our own threshold for the pain of others, we can give others the chance to take responsibility for self, just like Frances did.