ARE YOU SPOILING YOUR CHILD?

Dear Persons,

I’ve been told — by people I respect, people I love — that I am spoiling my child (and I’m sure plenty of others think the same thing). 

Does this happen to you? It’s infuriating! 

At the same time…I get it. 

Figure 1 - Perceptions of Spoiling

Here are some sample phrases I say to my son every day:

“You’re the greatest!”

“I am so proud of you.”

“Do you know have a heart of gold?”

I believe that my son, who is on the autism spectrum, and has ADHD and other learning, neurological, and motor differences, needs to hear someone say such things about him. 

True things!

Am I building him up too much to overcompensate for a world which often devalues those with differences? Is he spoiled if - partly because of the ways I celebrate him, and in spite of his tough times in many realms (social, academic…) - he thinks he is all that and a bag of chips? 

Some people think so. 

When chore time comes around, because he has significant challenges with executive function (as well as focus and fine motor stuff), his chores are more simple than those my daughter performs.

Is this fair? Is he spoiled in what I ask him to do? 

Some people think so. 

Parenting two children who possess extremely divergent strengths, I feel Fully qualified to state that as parents we know what our children can and cannot do.

But we do need to leave room for them to grow - and sometimes push them to do so. 

I want my son to feel good about himself. Apparently that (rather counterintuitively) involves sometimes letting him take chances and fail. Offering constructive criticism. I’m working on these. Trying to grow myself...Self-reflection is one of our most important -- and hardest -- practices, both as parents and as human beings! 

I desperately want my son to develop practical life skills; but he’s developing these at his own pace. Could I sometimes ask for more from him? Probably. Still, people with developmental differences…well, they develop at their own pace. Some of what people may see as spoiled might have to do with my child not “acting his age,” because, on some levels, he essentially isn't his "age." 

My parenting purposes here - helping my son feel good about himself and helping him develop life skills - actually seem to sometimes be at odds.

See, it’s such a fine line, this parenting of children with differences. I hope I’m doing it right, but at least I know I’m doing the best I can. Dear readers, I know you are too.

Figure 2 - Venn Diagram of Spoiling Factors

Are you spoiling your child? Am I? I don’t know. (Sorry if you thought I had the answer!)

I just want my children to be as healthy as possible in this zany world. 

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 Jenny 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!

An InLinkz Link-up

"MOTHER APPEARS DISHEVELED"

Dear Persons,

I was listening to NPR not long ago and ended up sobbing in the car. Again. The segment that got me this time was on voting rights (read it, and possibly weep, here), and how in many states persons who have appointed guardians do not have the right to vote. Whether to apply for guardianship of my son is probably the question I struggle most with on a day to day basis (followed closely by even more terrifying questions about what will happen to him when I am gone). The thought of my brilliant, politically-engaged son being unable to vote was one more tally in the non-guardianship column. I want to always err on the side of presuming competence, yet I always want my child to be able to, you know, live...sometimes despite himself.

I mention this not because this matter is resolved, but to point out that for parents with atypical children, and for people of difference in general, the world out there (your basic radio show, and so on) can be a bit of a minefield.

I have many friends – who I still speak to! – who like to say “Oh, it’s hard being the parent of any kid.” Sure, I will give you that. And I will gladly agree we most of us love our kids the same agonizing, rapturous, heart-expanding amount. But I am not Full Spectrum Mama for nothing: I have one typically-developing child and one who is developmentally and neurologically atypical and I can assure you it is not the same kind of hard! When your child develops differently there may be taken-for-granted, essential life skills that he or she may develop late...or never.

The idea that G will “grow out of it” – whatever “it” is – is thus often meaningless and certainly not reassuring.  For example, all his life G – despite assiduous and almost-constant attempts on my part to change this - has used his clothing as a combination napkin/tablecloth while eating. And that’s when he notices he has food on his face or hands...which he usually doesn’t. In the scheme of things, I’d like to think of this as minor – I mean, G is extraordinarily KIND and FUNNY and SMART – yet how will this be viewed by a potential employer? Or partner? (And no, I do not mean typical sloppiness, my “all kids have challenges/all boys are slobs” friends.)

Or perhaps your child is or you are (as am I) at the other end of the noticing/reacting spectrum and barely able to function because of obsessive compulsive (OCD) needs and/or sensory overload from crumbs and the like?

Maybe G’s table manners will improve someday. Maybe someday I will be able to ignore a single crumb on my finger. But sensory processing differences (SPD) and other neurological differences are often integral to who we are, part of our very biology. Neurodiverse and differently-abled persons may develop neurological, practical, and/or emotional strategies to function in a world that was not designed for them – and sometimes doesn’t make sense - but there is much we will never “grow out” of...

My conservative yet highly clinical estimate is that I worry about G a million, billion, gazillion times more than Z, my typically-developing, typically-abled daughter, even though she has had her issues as all children do...

I usually write more from the perspective of a child advocate, or in efforts to spread awareness and acceptance of difference. This time, I wanted to write about what the parents I know who have children with extraordinary challenges feel like a lot of the time, both to acknowledge and honor them (us) and to spread awareness on this front.

I am not complaining – my child brings me extraordinary wonder and joy every minute of every day – I am explaining.

Those of us with who are different, or have children with differences – or both! – have to navigate more-complicated, often “inappropriate*” (to us!) environments and interactions – environments and interactions that may feel overwhelming, cruel, arbitrary, opaque -- almost all the time. In a very real sense, the “problem” is the world, not our kids/us.

My Meeting Friend became my dearest and most-cherished support-network-of-one when mutual friends who knew our children kept suggesting we connect, and then our paths kept crossing en route to and from Meetings, therapies, etc. etc. My Meeting Friend was once at a Meeting – of which one has exponentially more with an atypical child (and yes I know this from personal Full Spectrum experience) – and glanced over at what one of the “professionals” there to evaluate and assess her son had written on a pad and read, “Mother appears disheveled.”

Now this is a mother who has willingly and bravely made changes and sacrifices for her child beyond what most could even imagine. That very day alone I am positive she had already cooked several different healthy breakfasts taking all individual food allergies into account, carefully planned out ways for both of her children to have their own kinds of successes (including – egads! – athletic successes!!!!) and learning experiences, gone to great lengths to ensure social interactions and a beneficial sensory diet for her son, written several emails regarding grades, social situations, IEP, 504,etc.,  made sure her other child felt “just as important,” oh - and worked at her job...** With a smile on her face.

I am impressed she even had clothes on after what she has been through. But there that note was -- amidst, I am sure, other stuff (such as “EXCELLENT parenting!” and “Kid is PERFECT, just a WEENSY bit unsuited to the average boring old, sensory-/social-nightmare classroom”)  --  ...”Mother appears disheveled.”

Figure I – Disheveled Mother

...Ya think? And I wasn’t there at that particular Meeting, but I do know that she has had the grace to laugh about it ever since.

My friends, do you appear disheveled or know someone who does? From crying in the car, maybe? Are you disheveled on the inside even if you appear “heveled” on the outside? You are in good company.

Much Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* “Inappropriate” is such a trigger word for many on the spectrum. There are a lot of “normal” things we find “inappropriate,” believe me (and there is no monolithic “we” in either neurodiverse or neurotypical contexts!). Nonetheless our children are often told, especially in school, that X, Y, or Z is “inappropriate”...One hopes that some consideration is given to the possibility that people who perceive and process differently may have different standards – and not always assume that neurotypical standards are the correct and appropriate ones. 

** How do I know these things? Because I know my Meeting Friend. But also because I and most other parents I know who have children with differences do these types of things Every Day. I just wrote a letter to G’s teachers and “learning specialist” while I wrote this footnote.

Welcome to the Sensory Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from sensory bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about what it’s like to have Sensory Processing Disorder and to raise a sensory kiddo!

An InLinkz Link-up

Third Anniversary Lists III: Choosing your Battles

Does anybody else obsess over self-driven cars?

One of the battles I am most loath to contemplate is that with my son over driving.  As focused as G can be, he may be easily distracted, especially in unpredictable environments -- and his judgment and sense are “still developing.”  If those self-driven cars could just hurry up and become available and affordable, I could sidestep the whole thing!

There are a couple of other battles we are fighting here and now, though, reducing the free time I have to think about future technological developments. I do this particular yearly list because it’s a handy format to share some insights from the last year’s struggles. While there have been a number of individuals and institutions that the Full Spectrums might’ve considered deserving of a nice smack with the hateball bat this year, I am going to stick with the positive, dedicating this post as usual to stuff you can try at home.

The critical differences between my children – my son is autistic, socially-awkward and very open-hearted; my daughter was adopted from china and has an attachment disorder; she is very savvy, and kind of a tough cookie – necessitate a lot of soul-searching in terms of how to best parent each/both. Parenting these two very distinct persons may (best case scenario) help me see what sorts of parenting strategies might work with a variety of children.

Here are some battle-choosing tips for my FULL spectrum:

1.      BOTH children benefit from Tackling One Task or Trait at a Time. I have found it’s better to monitor/learn something specific like “making the bed” over a more broad category such as “neatness.” The way that I CHOOSE which tasks or traits are addressed rests on which skills and traits will be most necessary to their lives as they grow up. With G, my choices tend toward practical skills and self-disciplines that will allow him to live independently; with Z, I tend to focus on skills and traits that encourage her to “grow the good,” to feel safe and secure enough to be kind and generous.

2.      (Try to) Be Consistent and Patient. Once you’ve chosen a battle, stick with it. It can take a loooooong time for habits to become ingrained. I am still working with G on “making bed,” while with Z it took a few days. Consistency is key – and a challenge to maintain on top of everything else…

If you are like me, you get t-i-r-e-d. Sometimes you may need to take a break from enforcement and get back to it once you’ve recharged. You’ll know pretty quickly whether you’ve been at it long enough for something to become a true habit when you start that break.

3.      Find the Right Reward. Z’s pretty easy: food. For a long time I was using “common sense points” for G and “goodness points’ for Z, and when they reached a certain number they got to choose a reward. This worked really well with G -- so well that he chose to stop doing it “because I have so much common sense now.” But it was, I think, a little too vague for Z, who never seemed to get above 10, anyway. So now we have malted milk balls that Z gets when she listens in school:  Specific Goal (see 1) and the Right Reward (3). For G, gum and screen time are enticing rewards; he has a lot of Specifics to work on, though and I haven’t been as Consistent as I should…

(Oh, I’m sorry…was that new-mama-ME who vowed she would “never bribe her kids”??? Welcome to reality, my old friend.)

4.      Assuming you’ve truly chosen worthwhile battles, you’ll want to eventually find ways to make the battles you are trying to choose for your kids become Their Own. Transfer control to them eventually so that you won’t have to do whatever it is (making bed) or remind them of it (be kind!) FOREVER.

I see autonomy as an ultimate goal and challenge for G, since his neurology can make basic daily tasks a struggle (mostly in terms of simply remembering to do them).  So a big goal and challenge for me, then, is to help him see why he should and how he can take on practical skills.  

Helping Z develop her superego (that part of the self that has a conscience and promotes pro-social, ethical behavior), so that she will be kind and honest when I am not monitoring her, is also an “ongoing process.”

5.      This last battle is not a FULL spectrum issue, as Z is a voracious and completely un-picky eater. But G, as with many people on the spectrum and/or with sensory processing differences, would prefer to “live” on a diet consisting entirely of white, sweet, bland food.

So, here are the Food Battles We Choose:

a.       The “One ‘No’ Rule:” G is allowed to refuse one item at each meal.

Because he is by far the pickiest eater in the house, and the rest of us tend to eat all sorts of things, this seems reasonable.  On a given night, I may find myself picking spicy greens out of the mesclun, mushrooms out of the rice, eggplant out of the relish… before even presenting Himself with His dinner. Egg-zaust-ing. Now I allow one choice of a food that will not be on his plate; the rest is up to him as below:

b.      The “One Bite Rule” is the perfect corollary to 5.a. Sometimes it means at the very least that all the remaining foods offered will be tried, however reluctantly…Sometimes it actually leads to a changed opinion: one time, I made G try the romanesco cauliflower which had been his expected “no” choice and then, having decided he liked that better than expected, he chose not to eat the cooked bok choy.

Fascinating, I know, but the “One Bite Rule” does sometimes create such mini-revelations.

Coming up, the next Sensory Blog Hop plus… what you have all been waiting for!…the most popular, putrid post of the year! : THE COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT! FSM has been a smidge behind the ball these last few weeks and is very much still accepting last minute complaints at jineffable@gmail.com.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

CAN I SLIDE DOWN THIS?

I’ve often said I’ve never in G’s entire life wanted to hit him. Until yesterday.

Leaving Pardner’s basketball game at the rec center, G – who has the balance of, um, a person without balance - casually threw a leg over a slippery metal pole and was about to slide down the skinny handrail that hung over a three story stairwell.

I was about ten feet away, attending to his little sister, when I heard him ask, “Can I slide down this?” Quicker than one would think possible, I was at his side and pulling him off the railing. I pushed him against the wall where he would be safe. I felt a surge of adrenaline such as I’ve rarely if ever felt before and only at great effort prevented myself from punching him.

My voice, when it came out, didn’t even sound like me. It sounded like a very hoarse man: “DID YOU LOOK??? DID YOU? DID YOU SEE THAT YOU WOULD ALMOST DEFINITELY HAVE SLIPPED OFF THAT RAILING AND DIED???”

Here is a picture of the stairwell I took when we returned to discuss this again: you can see the kids’ heads and shoulders waaaay down there. G asked, from below, “Do you want me to pretend I am dead?” 

NO. NOT. FUNNY.

I've written before about trying to get G to Pay Attention to the World. I can’t say my lectures around his almost sliding into oblivion (or, at least, severe injury) felt groundbreaking. But, since it is clearly so incredibly, desperately beyond important, I tried: “You need to think before you act, [G]. Remember how I have been asking you to pause when you leave school and close your eyes and think if you’ve forgotten anything? Well you need to do that much, much more. Like, whenever you are about to do…anything.

“It’s not that something’s wrong with you that makes it necessary to think before you act.

“Everybody has to think before they act.

“Your sister. in particular, has to think before she speaks. Because she talks a lot and sometimes says sassy stuff. But you need even more to think before you do something, like cross the street. Most people already DO THAT. But you don’t.

“You could have been dead yesterday. Look at my face. Can you imagine how we would all be feeling today if that had happened?”

Unfortunately, I don’t feel like he’s really listening or grasping the impact of my words -- or the possible repercussions of his actions. He’s one of the smartest people I know, yet I still honestly have no idea how to teach him common sense in a way that sticks.

Later in the evening Z was doing her usual acrobatics on the living room rug and G said, “[Z], you’re a calamity waiting to happen,” and I laughed – laughed! – “Look who’s talking!”

“Well, mom, a calamity is also a great disturbance in the atmosphere…”

I think I am still calamitized. To see your child almost off himself in the silliest, most-preventable of ways is pretty devastating. Even more devastating: not knowing how to ensure it doesn’t happen again in a slightly different, potentially highly-avoidable way.

But we will keep trying.

I am so grateful this Thanksgiving that G is still alive, in all his huggable glory.

I am grateful for another chance to try to help him to gain some goldang sense.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

P.S. I am having weird formatting issues. My apologies to those who don't enjoy reading in this format...As you may have noticed there is one portion of this post that is in my old school format. I do not know why...and can't change the rest without making blocks that cover all the words...Le sigh.