Aug 14, 2011

Raising a sensitive child: Why I parent a different way

"I should be able to just say 'No!' and not have it be such a big deal!" My husband exclaimed, a bit bewildered by our son's reaction. Hmmm. He should, shouldn't he? Well, he definitely could. Millions of parents do. "No, you can't have that!" they say as they steal away the coveted object. The child cries, the parent ignores and after a few minutes all returns to normal. But what takes place during those few precious minutes? A very important lesson is learned about what to do with those very real and very big emotions. Bury them. Deny them. Get over it. Move on.

Jul 29, 2011

Socks Off

Well, I taught my son how to take off his own socks today and he did it, all by himself! "Pull down by the heel," I explained. "Oh, heeeel...," he said with awed understanding. This may seem very ordinary to you, but to me it's amazing. Not just because he did it for the first time, but because I have never, ever been able to take off my own socks and yet, here I am, able to teach him how to do it. "Those Who Can, Do; Those Who Can't, Teach." I give that saying a whole new meaning!

May 20, 2011

Bound

Today I feel very wheelchair-bound. Sitting in this spot I can see countless rocks and people reclining on logs, all looking out to the sparkling water and smooth sand. In the distance I can see three little people exploring, their voices drifting back to me among the backdrop of the footsteps of passersby. Even though they are far away, I can distinguish some features of the tiniest body out there... his arms and legs and his orange shirt. He is throwing rocks into the water. He is with a man and woman who are taking pictures of him and pointing out things for him to see and do. The man is his daddy, bent-legged and on crutches but following him closely. The woman is crouching beside him, pointing to all the wonderful scenery. She is my care-aid. Where is his mommy? Wheelchair-bound. Watching with a smile and moist eyes as slowly they make their way towards me hand in hand. My heart swells. My baby is home.

Last year I thought it was hard when a different woman took him down to the water. He was crying...didn't like the coolness of the water against his legs. She thought it was good for him. I died a little. My sweet baby. I should be the one holding him there, deciding whether or not he was comfortable with this new experience. But he didn't need me. Her hands were steady, her feet brought him to the water's edge. Not mine.

Today was different. "Mommy, come!" He implored me to follow him but I could only explain why I couldn't. He looked at my wheels with a level of understanding. A few weeks ago it was at a playground. "Mommy, come!" He wanted me to climb up on the play structure with him. "Sorry babe, Mommy can't. My legs don't work." He cried and asked me a few more times until he gave up and ventured out on his own. A few days ago it was changing his diaper. "Mommy, come!" "You want me to change you?" I asked him. "Yeah, Mommy." He answered, expecting me to come closer and confused why I wasn't. "Mommy can't change you, Jake, my hands don't work." My throat swelled.

I thought it would be easier when he needed me. Asking for me, calling my name, checking to make sure I'm nearby. But it's not. I have to force him to connect and cooperate with someone other than his mommy, even when he's not ready to do so. But what choice do I have? I'm bound.

Mar 26, 2011

He'll get there

My two-and-a-half-year-old son was busy scanning the room for his next activity. He quickly looked around and settled on the toothbrush in my hand. "You want to brush your teeth?", I asked him. "Yeah." This is his latest word for positive responses...it has recently replaced "okay." "Go ask Tita to give you your toothbrush." Pitter, patter and he was off to her room. "'ake up Tita, 'ake up!"
"Please Tita can I have my toothbrush?" I asked on his behalf. Soon after he came over to me and we brushed our teeth together.
It was then that it hit me. A moment of clarity in my tenuous parenting journey. Prior to this I had never forced him to brush his teeth, I just did it in front of him everyday and would occasionally ask him if he wanted to do it too. It had been over 6 months since he had last said yes, and even then it was more chewing on the toothbrush rather than any actual teeth-cleaning. Tonight, though, he was brushing up and down and all around, really getting those teeth clean. So what was my great revelation? That just like his previous developments, sitting, crawling, walking, talking, he came into tooth brushing on his own accord, in his own time. All I did was model the action and provide the opportunity. Could it be that for future progress it might be this easy? Model and opportunity. Model and opportunity. I can almost taste the relief. Trust the process. He will find his way when left to discover it. clarity of speech, politeness, sharing, empathy, reading, writing, arithmetic...you name it. He'll get there.
Now, if only I can hold on to this moment...