Showing posts with label hygiene. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hygiene. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

FAILING SAFELY/DARING GREATLY


By the end of August, almost everything I said was making G really, really mad. Could be sulking mad, could be yelling mad; whatever I had to say, he was angry. 

All the time. 

If I said, “Ask yourself if you really need thirds on ice cream,” he’d be enraged, for hours.

“You’ve already watched two movies today, how about taking a break?”: infuriating. 

“Let’s get some fresh air”: seething, at length, with rage. 

Screens, picking up stuff left all over the house, bedtime, laundry, hygiene, homework, manners, state of his room…All were loaded topics. 

One night, after a loooooooong day, I decided it was time to let go. Yep, all at once. It was time for Operation [G] Freedom. 

I didn’t actually even think it through. At all. I just sat down at the dining room table and said, “I’m done. You’re going away to college next year and I’m not going to be there to remind you to sleep, or get exercise, or make good choices. 

“This year is a great time for you to ruin your life in a safe context. So do whatever you want! I don’t want to fight with you anymore and you have to learn this stuff to succeed in life anyway!”

Then I got up and went back into the kitchen to do all the things.

A few minutes later, I heard, in a kind of tiny voice, “Mom? I don’t want to ruin my life.”

“Oh sweetie,” I said, “I don’t mean ruin-ruin your life, exactly. It’s just that the things I tell you that make you mad, those are things that you need to do or not do. So if you do or don’t do them at home, that’s a safe place to fail. 

“I’m hoping you’ll realize for yourself that I’m not nuts or trying to annoy you. And figure out why you need to do certain things, like sleep regularly or not be on your phone 24/7. That way, when you get out on your own you’ll be able to do what you need to do to succeed—like get some healthy exercise and finish your schoolwork on time—without making huge errors in judgment.”

“In fact,” I added, “let’s call it ‘playing college!’”

Now, I don’t think any of this would’ve worked a year ago, or even a few months. I’ve watched my friends whose kids don’t have developmental differences gradually reach this point years ago, but G needed extra time. 

Paradoxically, I'm basically giving him more freedom than many of his typically developing peers currently enjoy. That's because until very recently G didn't seem to have enough common sense or self-regulation to manage the tiny amounts of freedom he was given. Now, he only has this year of high school left in which to practice those skills before leaving for college. 

What he said next showed me he was ready to try. 

“I don’t know if I want that kind of freedom,” G admitted a few hours later. “I think I’m going to use the same parameters you gave me.”

And he has, for the most part. Admittedly with less sleep and more screens, but not so much that he’s messing up in school or in general. (Yet?)

So far, perhaps the most amazing thing to come out of this is a huge shift in our dynamic. G can actually, finally hear me again without taking offense. 

For…years, really, there was a lot of struggle between us over just about everything. Now, because I’m no longer trying to command him—and because he feels respected—he’s able to listen respectfully. 

I’ll make a suggestion from time to time—“At your age, you need 10 hours of sleep a night, so if I were you I’d figure out what time I need to get up and see what is a good time to go to bed”—and then ask, “Does that make sense?”

He’ll usually answer, “Yes.”  

When he resists—“You just had cross country practice. How about a shower?” “Nah”— I simply state a logical consequence—“Well, you’ll be smelly all day”—and move on.

I never, ever claim to have “The Answer.” All families and all individuals are different. For some families, this shift is probably inconceivable (as it was for us not long ago); for others, it’s not on the horizon at all. And who knows, we may need to ease back into more  regulation—it hasn’t been that long!

Also? Don’t get me wrong: I’m scared. Really scared. About ALL the menacing things, for the foreseeable future. But this does seem to be working for our family right now. 


Figure I — Some Of The Menacing Things (not shown: accidental pregnancy, loneliness, driving, unintentionally breaking the law…)

Moving forward, I’m planning to try to stop even making those suggestions. I’m going to dare to allow for the possibility of failure—AND the potential for entirely self-directed success. I’m stepping back so that G can achieve his own kind of greatness on his own terms

That means when he chooses to stay up all night or never, ever do his laundry, or leave random dishes and papers and shoes and books and pens and Magic the Gathering cards (and so on, and on, and on...) EVERYWHERE I am going to stay quiet and let him experience the consequences…Also on his own terms.

That means I can reduce my worrying-about-college time significantly, freeing up time to worry about a bunch of random things for wholesome activities. 

At the same time, I’ve been grappling with ways to help him gain increased responsibility as a fair and natural part of increased freedom. That means picking up after himself more, at the very least, right? Fingers crossed.

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama


Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop -- a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Mommy Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo -- from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month's Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!
Click here to enter

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

PROM NIGHT

Dear Persons,

A few weeks ago, I really messed up.

I’m on my own with my kids all weekend every weekend and sometimes I get impatient or overwhelmed. 

Often, though, we have a really great time together.

Because I’ve always been a solo weekend parent, my children have been forced to accompany me to concerts, museums, and so on. And I’ve watched more kids’ movies than I could count, some of them actually pretty good. 

On this particular Saturday, my son, G, who is a junior in high school, was really getting on my nerves with a couple of exaggerated teenage slob behaviors that are not developmentally typical for an older teen. 

It’s not that the things he does actually bother me per se, it’s that I worry he will do those things out in the wider world—and get shunned for doing so. Or made fun of, or dismissed in ways he won’t even be aware of…

I was having a stressful work day, too (I edit a Sunday political mailing on Saturdays, but I also freelance and, when things are going well, often work weekends). 

But mostly it was just the relentlessness of G’s socially unacceptable behavior that was sending me back to the days when I worried if he’d ever function at all in “the real world.”

So I wasn’t at my best. 

Meanwhile, we were all looking forward to going to a big action movie that night.

Around 5 o’clock, I told G that we had one hour left before we’d have to leave for the movie. I asked him if he could stop being offensive for that period—and warned him that he would not be invited to the movie if he could not. 

As we were putting our shoes on, G was unable to contain himself from doing exactly what I’d asked him not to do.

And I lost it. Visions of his future as an outcast (never mind that he’s the sweetest guy ever) flashed before my eyes as I berated him and sent him to his room.

Now what was I going to do? After all, I don’t usually leave him home alone, and my daughter was dying to go to the film. 

I sat down on the couch with my head bowed.

I tried to breathe deeply while I debated between consistency/follow-through and wanting to get a break/have some dang fun.

I wish this was where I’d come up with a great solution.

But it was time to leave!

Without much clarity, I yelled up to him, “Okay, come on down. I’m not happy about this but Z [daugher] and I really want to go to the movie.”

“I want you to know I’m still REALLY upset with you,” I added. “You only had to keep it together for ONE HOUR! And you couldn’t. So don’t talk to me right now!”

We drove into town in silence, parked, and began to walk to the theater. 

As we approached Main Street, we began to see teenagers in formal dress.

“Hi [G],” some called out to him. 

It was Junior-Senior Prom Night.

My heart sank.

For weeks, G had been trying to get someone to go to prom with him. He’d asked every girl he knew and even posted a request for a date on Instagram. 

A week before, he’d finally given up. And I’d forgotten. But I’m sure he hadn’t. 

In fact all day, as he’d acted out, he was probably thinking about prom and wishing he was going. 

So, yeah—my heart sank.(Yes, I know my heart “breaks” and “sinks” quite a lot. It’s just like that more often when your child  has special needs. Yes, I do know what I’m talking about, as I also have a neurotypical child. My daughter also has special needs—having developed an attachment disorder before she was adopted—but she will have a much easier time being accepted, achieving success, and getting what she wants out of people and life in general. So my heart simply doesn’t break so much with her.) 

Why couldn’t I have been more understanding, more compassionate? Presumed competence on his part and given him the basic respect of assuming he has his own reasons and concerns? 

Why did I focus on a superficial thing when my son's heart is hugeand vulnerable? 

Are there other lessons here for me here about raising an extraordinary child? About supporting rather pushing him than through his challenges? 

In any case, I’ll think twice about making assumptions. And losing my temper.  

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama


Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop -- a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Mommy Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo -- from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month's Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!
Click here to enter

Monday, March 21, 2016

FOURTH ANNIVERSARY LISTS III: CHOOSING YOUR BATTLES

Dear Persons,

We only have so much energy in life. In my last post, THE FULL BUCKET, I wrote about what happens when that energy is all used up. Choosing your battles is one way to ensure you avoid getting so drained that you are no longer able to function well...

This year, I will give two simple examples from the Full Spectrums: Armpits versus Teeth, and Grades versus Manners.

Choosing your battles doesn’t mean you abdicate any discussion of or efforts toward other areas of life – it just means you reserve your mightiest strength for those areas that seem most deeply important for yourself and/or your loved ones.

Here are two choices I’ve made for us:

            1. ARMPITS VERSUS TEETH
Middle schoolers stink. Even with deodorant. Especially if you start with the crunchy granola natural stuff. We are on the Old Spice Ultra-Chem Turbo Level by this point but it only gets applied, shall we say, intermittently. You see, my G has very, very little interest in hygiene. So if I want to be sure he is doing something hygiene-related, I have to supervise.

I stopped brushing teeth with G about a year ago, trusting that he would take responsibility for this important matter. We found out the hard way last fall – when he had to go under general anesthesia to have a tooth pulled --  that he was not ready to brush his teeth alone. Now we brush our teeth together again, with him leading. Ten brushes in each spot. This is non-negotiable.

Sure, I ask G to put on deodorant and ask him if he has done so...but with my limited time and energy, sometimes deodorant doesn’t happen. Tooth brushing does.

Always.

            2. GRADES VERSUS MANNERS
How many talks do your children really want to listen to? Z is one of those people who is able to excel at anything she cares to excel in...So her consistently getting all threes (“meets grade level expectations”) on her report card is...unexpected. Sure, I’ve talked with her about this – quite a bit.

But I reserve my most heated, heartfelt talks for the area of what I call “real manners” (i.e. the manners that are about kindness and respect, not the right fork). Because Z has grappled with an attachment disorder since she came home, she’s always had issues with feeling she doesn’t have enough, and with control. These factors come into play frequently when it comes to sharing and treating others with basic respect.

I know Z is a tough cookie who will always make her way successfully in the world, so I don’t lecture too, too much on grades and hard work. But for her to feel good inside -- and for others to feel comfortable around her -- she needs to learn to act with “real manners” in heart and mind. This, like tooth brushing, is non-negotiable, so I save my heartiest lectures for this subject.

Because I am not at her all the time about certain other stuff (grades, etc.), we are both able to be more fully present in this important, healing arena.


We are all works in progress. It matters that we take a little time to see where our efforts can be most effective – and to ponder what we most value.  This can vary, of course -- the key is to take a step back and determine which battle you will choose.

The next and final anniversary post will be the most popular, putrid  post of the year: THE COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT!!! We at FSM are a leetle behind this year on account of because life, so there’s still time to get your COMPLAINTS in!

Thanks and love,
Full Spectrum Mama