Showing posts with label humiliation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humiliation. Show all posts

Thursday, January 24, 2013

First Anniversary Lists III: Choosing your Battles


One initially formative idea for Full Spectrum Mama was that if something worked in our household it might be useful across a wide range of circumstances (consistent boundaries come to mind). Or, at least, our mistakes might prove instructive (diarrhea [still working on that one]).


But surety in these complicated times has never been a strong suit of our household. Readers have been more likely to laugh or cry with us than to follow my commands.

The first thing that comes to mind when I think “parenting solutions” is, um, drinking…For those who are not struggling with substance abuse issues, may I suggest a moderate portion of your preferred mood altering substance? FSM never cottoned overmuch to vino until single motherhood hit. Now, if she can remember, a glass of wine or beer definitely eases dinner and bedtime transitions [note to self: make note to remind self to drink wine].

And then there is the “solution” – much needed in a Full household - of picking which issues and behaviors to address and which to drop. In the matter of choosing battles, the grandmama of all battle-choosing advice comes to mind. Sure, it’s a cliché. On account of because it’s super wise:

The Serenity Prayer 


God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Or, for those who are not religious or do not feel that serenity comes from “God,” here is a version from The Serene Atheist (http://sereneatheist.blogspot.com/2009/10/secular-serenity-prayer.html):

Through my efforts, I gain the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can; 
and the wisdom to know the difference.

 

Years ago, during an unrelated family mental health scenario, I learned that some traits are known as ‘characterological.” This term refers to aspects of personality and behavior that are neither strictly psychological nor neurological; instead, they are character traits – good and bad – that can be remarkably hard to change. Such traits are not reflections of mental illness or neurodiversity per se but have to do with the will and desires and tendencies of any individual. Thus, one might be characterologically prone to greed or generosity, kindness or cruelty; one might be shy or bursting with flair, honest, sneaky, sunny- or surly-natured…

Character can be worked with, its better aspects supported and its lesser elements healed and diminished; but it cannot really be eradicated.

It’s useful to try to get a handle on what’s what in this area, and to know which behaviors are
unhealthy, pathological or reflections of disorder
or
functions of disability or developmentally appropriate
and which are
basic, natural self-expression.

This can bring some insight as to whether or not – and possibly how – behaviors can be ameliorated.

It’s also imperative to know as much as possible about your unique circumstances so that you don’t lament OR excuse inappropriate things, or confuse character with a difference, disorder or disability.

For example, it’s hard to say how much of G’s generosity comes from his character and how much from his Aspergian non-attachment to most material goods. Part of my job is to help him develop enough common sense to distinguish between generous and reckless giving. Z’s giant hambone consists of one part attachment disorder and one part inborn characterological star quality. She needs to learn how to balance and channel that energy, but she will always be a VIP.




Figure I – A FULL Spectrum: from (foreground) Z’s jumping into front of the camera-field “Hi, Look at ME: I am fabulous! All The Time!!! Hey! Did you look away? Hi!” to (background) G’s looking-away expression of “Stripes. Stripes. Striiiiiiipes.” Not to stereotype, but this is…typical. (At the Sol Lewitt exhibit at Mass MOCA.)

The camera lens has captured Z in full form, oozing pizzazz. I cannot imagine telling her to back off or tone it down.

G’s absorption in art here seems part poetic, part flakey, part characterological, part Aspie. What should I do to get him to look at the camera for once, shout at him? I could say, “Pay attention!”

Nah.

Everybody’s got their stuff, right? Whether you (or your child or someone else) are attachment disordered, on the autism spectrum, wonderful in 99 out of 100 categories, mentally ill, spoiled, temporarily or permanently sweet or grumpy or cranky…having a solid perspective on what can (can’t) be changed and what should (shouldn’t) be addressed and healed can be immeasurably valuable in the day-to-day. Knowing what’s what – insofar as that is possible - can help you choose your battles!

Choosing Your Battles List

1.     Safety issues are non-negotiable.
2.     Public humiliation issues are at the discretion of the individuals involved. Only YOU can gauge the unbearable, loathsome edge of your acceptable-humiliation zone.
3.     Is X expressing his/her character or his/her pain/disability/disorder?
4.     Is Y able to change his behavior him or herself or does s/he need help from you?
5.     Are you able at this time to offer that help???
And…
6.     The Ultimate Battle Choosing Question: Can my child (or I, or those involved) learn, benefit, grow or heal from this situation, or should I just let go/accept it?

I have turned this information into a Flow Chart:



                                            Figure I – Choosing Your Battles Flow Chart

This handy, dandy flow chart may help channel typical concerns into decision-making success. As a bonus, options for simple suggestion as well as actual intervention are included in each branch. Whenever I am mired in a real-life situation I always make time to refer to a list or flow-chart, which I naturally have at the ready.*

Next Week: my final anniversary list: "The Complaint Department."

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama


*…in my dreams.



Thursday, December 13, 2012

MILCS


I recently spent a morning meandering and gabbing with a beloved friend. As we walked along a magical, secluded trail, she showed me some special spots where her children play together. “We are here a lot because we can’t be in public right now,” she confided. One of her children is going through a period of strong tantrums and the effort and strain of it in the social scene is just too much. She admitted how ashamed she feels when her child throws a public tantrum and how her fear of getting caught in that situation has vastly limited her social life. How isolating it can be…Having read some of my experiences here (and heard about them in person and seen them in real life), she added, “You know how it is!” Oh yes, Mama, I know how it is.

This conversation reminded me of some instances when I had no choice but to be out in the world while my children were going through changes. Bleak times filled with helplessness, anger, sadness and humiliation for all…Happily, what also came to mind were the times when someone – often a complete stranger – gave me love, peace and strength just when I needed it.

Everybody knows what a MILF is, right? Well, I want to talk about MILCS: Mothers I’d Like to Celebrate. I don’t even know if some of these people have children…But they are MOTHERS, for sure. See if you don’t agree.

Once, Z was having a ghastly tantrum and I had taken her outside to avoid disturbing G’s tae kwon do class.  People kept walking by and either totally avoiding us or looking pityingly at the poor, poor little girl.  Poor, poor little girl was so angry (no idea why, this was a daily occurrence at the time…) that nothing I knew of (not hugs, not threats of Consequences…) would stop the screams of rage. I was near tears.

As I stood there, trying to shrink as small as possible while still indicating that the tantruming child had someone watching her (for what that someone was worth), a woman came up to me and said, simply, “Mom, you are doing okay.” She wrapped me up in her arms and rocked me a little from side to side and then went on her way.

Hey you, lady who just hugged a pariah, you are doing more than ok.

Oh, here’s a good one. You know when someone thinks your child with an attachment disorder has autism and that your child with autism is neurotypical, or vice versa? Yeah, that happens to me sometimes.

I was at this fantastic storefront Aztec-Mexican restaurant in Norwalk, CT called Molcajetes (http://www.ctbites.com/home/2009/9/18/los-molcajetes-seriously-authentic-mexican-in-norwalk.html) with extended family when Z threw one of her most remarkable, powerful tantrums of all time. Full Spectrum Grandmother tried to intervene and got kicked for her troubles…Pardner tried joking her out of it with no luck…

Over the course of the next [period of time, I am not sure how long!] or so I spent with my rocking, growling, kicking, screaming daughter out on the stoop, not one but TWO women with autistic sons walked by at different times and commiserated with me over what they thought was a textbook autistic tantrum.

“Oh no,” I told each kind mother in turn. “The one with autism is sitting inside eating nicely!”

When Z was good and ready she pretty instantly stopped being upset and went inside and, with a big smile on her face, devoured enough food (fresh, garlicky guacamole and soft tacos and just-fried chips with that incredible slightly sweet cabbage salsa) to feed an army, which is kind of what she was. You need fuel for that kind of sally!

When Z was younger, I often felt as if people judged me as a mother for her behavior. I wished I could maybe wear a sign that said, “This is not a normal tantrum. I have tried everything you (or I, or anyone) could imagine to stop this tantrum and many others like it. Yes, my daughter was just hitting me and screaming as if I was hitting her but I was not, actually, hitting her…, as you can see right here with your own eyes. In fact, your staring at us might even fuel this little situation we got going on here. Now, please, I just have to sit here and wait it out so I would be so grateful if you would stop giving me dirty looks.”

Now that Z is a little older, people can tell her tantrums are not just run-of-the-mill. They can see that she is older than a “normal” age for tantrums, and that she is writhing and screaming, extensively, without any input. They seem somewhat less likely to be appalled -- and rather more likely to feel compassion for both the parent who stands helplessly witness to such an event and the child who cannot extricate herself from it – or let herself be extricated...

G has his moments too, whether from his really rare but quite memorable public tantrums to his more common general inappropriateness/cluelessness, not to mention flailing.

One time, after a hard day, I said to G as we were leaving a local co-op, “You have the most important thing, a kind and loving heart. Now you just need to pay attention to the world around you and work on your common sense.” (This is one version of my ad-nauseam-aforementioned Pay Attention to the World lectures.)

We had gotten into the car and had just begun to pull out of the parking lot when a woman with a silver bob wearing a striking purple jacket and lots of chunky silver jewelry waved me down, practically throwing herself in front of the car. Thinking maybe I had forgotten one of my organic, vegan, sustainable, equal-exchange, wallet-straining purchases, I stopped and rolled down my window.

 “That was one of the most inspiring things I have ever heard,” she told me. “It will echo inside me for a long time. Thank you.”

No, thank you, Ms. Silver-Purple Angel-Person. I will never forget you.


I tell these tales not to brag or make it seem like I am doing such a great job that was duly appreciated by these wise women (ha!), but to share that these women actually made it possible for me to Go On. Their simple acts of generosity have resonated in my life for months and years. They allowed me the space and peace in which I could settle my heart back into love for my children instead of fear. They made it possible for me to celebrate my children, just as they are, and so I celebrate them.

Just so, I hope when my friend who is stuck in the woods for now with her clan reads this she will know how truly I honor her finding a way to celebrate her children through it all. In addition, I hope she will encounter surprising (yet very welcome) love and acceptance when she does have to put herself and her family “out there,” just as I did with these MILCS: huge-hearted strangers, generous-spirited everyday angels who just
Went For It.

And guess what? We can all – in some way - do the same.

We all have the mental capacity to recognize opportunities to grow our hearts, to stretch a little or a lot. Sometimes it seems like we don’t have the emotional capacity to execute such acts of kindness and generosity, whether it’s due to emotive stinginess (high on the fear spectrum, no?) or the shyness of those on the awkward end of the social spectrum. It’s probably easier to be surprisingly kind to strangers, as these women were to me, but we encounter countless such opportunities of all sorts every day. And I am not talking about the somewhat trite “random acts of kindness” trope, because these acts are more than random. They are necessary.

You never know when your small action may make a real difference in someone’s life. Plus, I suspect our capacity to be generous and kind grows with the PRACTICE.  Be grateful for any everyday angel you meet…and pass it on!

Lest this seem preachy, I should add I’ve no idea what a generous spirit means to you in particular and no advice beyond the suggestion that choosing kindness at a given moment may resonate more than you’ll ever know.

Thanks and love forever, MILCS, and all you others trying to make sure your heart isn’t several sizes too small, and all y’all who are just plain trying,
Full Spectrum Mama