My desire to "save" my son from the damages done by one of his caregivers was the driving force in my decision to quit my full time benefited job and stay home with him. It was the only choice I could see given his behaviors and how little time remained before he started Kindergarden.
It has been 5 months of challenges for both of us, and for other family members as well. There has been so much learning and growth happening within our hearts and souls that the two of us are surely different now than we were before. I suppose you could say that of any person after 5 months, whether they made a major life change or not - life has a way of growing and changing people regardless of their choices! - but the ways in which both G and I have had to adapt and adjust have been infinitely full of growth.
November brought a new part time position for me that took me out of the house more than I wanted during the time I was orienting/training. The necessity of income chased me through the days and evenings I was gone. Then suddenly there was Thanksgiving. I tried to slow our race through December but then we traveled 3000 miles to a family reunion which was an amazing time, and of course there was Christmas and Santa and now? Now is the time to regroup, re assess, and plan for more changes.
G has responded so well to being home with me now. He still is pretty resistant to any other person trying to correct his behaviors, to put it in a respectful tone. In other words, he digs in his heels and lashes out at most any other person, still trying to be the boss of every situation and always on guard against being hurt by an adult. I wonder if that is something I can ever help him navigate with more grace. He likes to be boss with me too, but has become more willing to be my friendly, cooperative helper on a regular basis. His trust in me is growing bigger and deeper all the time. He was a wonderful travel companion on our flights to California; funny and cheerful and curious, as well as respectful and charming to other passengers. Maybe that is just the nature of a 4 year old...
He has had some issues with breathing/asthma as the fall progressed, as is typical of him and I imagine we will have to deal with this long term. That will be the least of our worries!
I know at times G feels the need to play with other children, but overall it is still a difficult time for him when he does. His bossiness and easily overstimulated temperament can make a situation very UNfun for all of us. I'm still trying to sort out the way to meet his needs in this as well as create successful interactions for him.
Right now we are saying goodbye to the holidays and heading in to the endless dreariness of a cold New England winter so I plan on making "successful kid-interactions" a work in progress. There are a lot of indoor play places we can go to for "practice".
One thing I've discovered that took me by surprise, is that in "saving Griffin", I have unexpectedly saved myself. My own heart has been healed by being home with him, and with the opportunity to spend more time with my 19 yr old daughter, and has shown me that in this change, all of our family has had the opportunity for growth and learning. The universe continues to fill our lives with instances of hope, kindness, generosity, and love. I am grateful, more and more, for this life.
Showing posts with label Behavior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Behavior. Show all posts
December 28, 2016
October 17, 2016
October 17th; Week 11 - Balance and Hope
The fall weather in New England is really indescribable. No picture I could ever take, and even the most professional photos that I've seen, can ever show the true glory of it. Much like the time I stood at the edge of a cliff on the Pacific Coast and watched a wave surging over rocky outcroppings over and over - and I cried at the amazing beauty of it... fall in New England awes me. Every day is different, the colors can change depending upon the sun and the cloud cover and what you see can be different from hour to hour. And all of it is a metaphor explaining the way I see my son. He is, in essence, fall in New England.
I was reading a book about parenting the Spirited Child (along with books about the Strong Willed child and the Sensitive Child, and the Explosive Child - do you see a theme here?) and while all of those words are easily applied to Griffin, they are not meant to be negative descriptions at all. They certainly can be viewed as negative, but looked at in a different light - perhaps with a little less cloud cover maybe? - they are words conveying strength, power, intuition, and energy. When I choose to look at G's actions in a positive light, I see so much more joy and potential than when I am seeing him through tired, worried, self-judging eyes.
I have had three friends impart a little of their perspective recently and it is interesting that as I look back on those moments of hearing their thoughts that the one friend whose comment was negative left me feeling beaten down and responsible for my sons energy - and the two perspectives that were positive allowed me the room to step back and see that G is such an amazing kid and I am, in fact, doing a really good job right here, right now, in this moment. Could I do better? Sure, I mean, can't we all? But once again I return to the absolute certainty that my journey here is about balance - and in the big picture, Griff and I are together creating a balance for him.
I was reading a book about parenting the Spirited Child (along with books about the Strong Willed child and the Sensitive Child, and the Explosive Child - do you see a theme here?) and while all of those words are easily applied to Griffin, they are not meant to be negative descriptions at all. They certainly can be viewed as negative, but looked at in a different light - perhaps with a little less cloud cover maybe? - they are words conveying strength, power, intuition, and energy. When I choose to look at G's actions in a positive light, I see so much more joy and potential than when I am seeing him through tired, worried, self-judging eyes.
I have had three friends impart a little of their perspective recently and it is interesting that as I look back on those moments of hearing their thoughts that the one friend whose comment was negative left me feeling beaten down and responsible for my sons energy - and the two perspectives that were positive allowed me the room to step back and see that G is such an amazing kid and I am, in fact, doing a really good job right here, right now, in this moment. Could I do better? Sure, I mean, can't we all? But once again I return to the absolute certainty that my journey here is about balance - and in the big picture, Griff and I are together creating a balance for him.
We are gearing up for Halloween. Costumes, candy, the
excitement... craft projects (which never go well when you mix an energetic and
quick thinking four year old with a hot glue gun and a multi-step process!) and
leaf collecting, apple picking, pumpkin decorating and the most perfect weather
ever have made the past couple of weeks mostly about fun. Seeing all of
the things I love viewed through Griffins joyful brown eyes is just more
evidence to my soul of the goodness of the universe, the love of God for me and
my family, and the balance of it all brings me hope. Hope may not be the feeling most people associate with fall, it may be surprising to hear that emotion linked to falling leaves and shorter days but that is yet another thing I've learned from Griffin: expectations aren't for us, everything is surprising, and hope is alive.
October 3, 2016
10/2; Week 9, RIDICULOUS
Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not working my 8-4, M-F, dress up and make up, income producing job; of running on a tight timeline and alarms and schedules and rushing and driving to work with worry in my heart. Nine weeks of yoga pants and fuzzy socks and no makeup and no alarms and no planned routines.
Nine weeks of processing what it means, what new schedules and routines should (or shouldn't) be, what my expectations are, (and which ones are ridiculous and need to be let go of), of budgeting and counting pennies and planning ahead and negotiating kinks and figuring out what all of this means...to me.
Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not being rushed off to daycare and being dropped into the midst of bright, noisy, chaos, of bringing lunch and snack and extra clothes and stuffy bear for naptime.
Nine weeks of not missing momma all day, of not fighting over toys, rules, routines; of not being forced to share, no waiting and taking turns; of not being scolded, overlooked, unheard, excluded, and getting negative attention, for just doing what I do; of not having to cry, or hold back feelings, of not feeling safe.
Nine weeks of processing what it means now to be home, what new schedules and routines are in place (or not), what the expectations are (or aren't), of doing things one on one with momma or my sister, of making choices that I want to make and experiencing things fresh and new right in the middle of the day! Like, the library, the movies, story time at the big book store, going to visit friends of momma's, hiking the rail trail and collecting pinecones.
Nine weeks of learning how to ask for what I want, and to ask for what I need like momma is teaching me, and of how to get positive attention, and of hugging and kissing and sitting and staying in and going out and playgrounds and hiking and settling in to the natural ebb and flow of rhythms that work...for me.
Things are falling into place. The universe, or God, is leveling it all out, taking care of us, providing income and time and giving us opportunities to learn from. We've made friends, with each other, as well as with others, and learned how to be bored with each other and how to enjoy each other. A lot of the learning has been on my end, truthfully. I've had to learn a lot about what matters, and what doesn't, and it isn't an easy thing for me. I'm a little older and I've been down this parenting road before but instead of making it easier, it means I kind of have some pre concieved expectations of how this should go. I've been wrong about almost everything.
Things are falling into place. I'm eating good food and checking them off on my food chart so I have enough vegetables and protein. I'm having fun playing superhero's with momma; not as much fun as when my papa plays, but still fun! I'm bored and restless sometimes but momma makes me play with my toys or run around outside and I forget that I'm bored. I think this is how it is supposed to be. I mean, I don't know, isn't this just what everyone else does too?
The one thing I was right about? Quitting my job to stay home with my 4 year old son.
Lately I've heard from more and more parents, and particularly parents of little boys, with stories similar to ours. Daycare providers with rigid expectations hidden behind creative descriptions of "developmentally appropriate routines"; teachers with poor communication skills taking to texting about behavior issues, calling parents out on a 2 year old that hits, or a 3 year old that doesn't want to sit still during circle time. Little boys being called "violent" or "anti-social"; parents being asked to consider psychiatry evals and medication - we are talking about kids as young as 2! As far as my knowledge reaches (a pre-college career of babysitting since age 11, a college education and 4 children, a career in infant development/parenting, and family advocacy) age 2 is still a BABY. Maybe some of those 'babies' are precocious and talking and and seeming to be mini-adults, but they are, by and large, babies. A baby does not have a behavior disorder. Let me be clear. Neither does the average 3 or 4 year old. I am appalled at the stories I've heard. Validated, sure, but appalled.
Griffin has some undesirable behaviors that we are working on, and isn't that what we are supposed to be doing? As parents, but also as teachers in a daycare or preschool, it's about teaching, instructing, leading by example, reinforcing - it's all a process. And because behavior is about feeling and emotion, about situation and circumstance, and a dozen other variables, you can't expect to teach them once and never have to review it again... it is not the same as learning the alphabet or the value of the numbers 1-10. Its about developing the capacity for patience and control: things that aren't in place with toddlers and preschoolers and so "behavior issues" are not issues at all - they are just behaviors.
Developmentally, skill and behavior are always undergoing change, maturation, development. Even adults learn new behaviors and social skills thru workplace training, interpersonal development, and experience. What? Oh, you mean "experience"? Yeah, thats a THING. Skills are developed, manners learned, appropriate interactions taught - through experience. Not thru inherent assimilation. So you can't say that a 3 year old, with only 3 years worth of life skills (and only about 1.5 years of that having any concrete value) is in need of psychiatric evaluation, or professional intervention, until you have put in the actual time and effort of working through those behaviors. Seriously. What has our entire educational system come to that early education workers are feeling like they need to advocate for psychiatric evaluations on BABIES??
Be patient. Be kind. Be accepting. Make no assumptions. Take things as they are - when dealing with tiny children - and be accommodating of the genuine honesty and integrity of small humans... and don't be physically abusive to them...no matter how frustrating and infuriating and discombobulating they might be... they are just learning things, all fresh and new, and practicing them moment by moment. Just love them...ridiculously!
Nine weeks of not working my 8-4, M-F, dress up and make up, income producing job; of running on a tight timeline and alarms and schedules and rushing and driving to work with worry in my heart. Nine weeks of yoga pants and fuzzy socks and no makeup and no alarms and no planned routines.
Nine weeks of processing what it means, what new schedules and routines should (or shouldn't) be, what my expectations are, (and which ones are ridiculous and need to be let go of), of budgeting and counting pennies and planning ahead and negotiating kinks and figuring out what all of this means...to me.
Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not being rushed off to daycare and being dropped into the midst of bright, noisy, chaos, of bringing lunch and snack and extra clothes and stuffy bear for naptime.
Nine weeks of not missing momma all day, of not fighting over toys, rules, routines; of not being forced to share, no waiting and taking turns; of not being scolded, overlooked, unheard, excluded, and getting negative attention, for just doing what I do; of not having to cry, or hold back feelings, of not feeling safe.
Nine weeks of processing what it means now to be home, what new schedules and routines are in place (or not), what the expectations are (or aren't), of doing things one on one with momma or my sister, of making choices that I want to make and experiencing things fresh and new right in the middle of the day! Like, the library, the movies, story time at the big book store, going to visit friends of momma's, hiking the rail trail and collecting pinecones.
Nine weeks of learning how to ask for what I want, and to ask for what I need like momma is teaching me, and of how to get positive attention, and of hugging and kissing and sitting and staying in and going out and playgrounds and hiking and settling in to the natural ebb and flow of rhythms that work...for me.
Things are falling into place. The universe, or God, is leveling it all out, taking care of us, providing income and time and giving us opportunities to learn from. We've made friends, with each other, as well as with others, and learned how to be bored with each other and how to enjoy each other. A lot of the learning has been on my end, truthfully. I've had to learn a lot about what matters, and what doesn't, and it isn't an easy thing for me. I'm a little older and I've been down this parenting road before but instead of making it easier, it means I kind of have some pre concieved expectations of how this should go. I've been wrong about almost everything.
Things are falling into place. I'm eating good food and checking them off on my food chart so I have enough vegetables and protein. I'm having fun playing superhero's with momma; not as much fun as when my papa plays, but still fun! I'm bored and restless sometimes but momma makes me play with my toys or run around outside and I forget that I'm bored. I think this is how it is supposed to be. I mean, I don't know, isn't this just what everyone else does too?
The one thing I was right about? Quitting my job to stay home with my 4 year old son.
Lately I've heard from more and more parents, and particularly parents of little boys, with stories similar to ours. Daycare providers with rigid expectations hidden behind creative descriptions of "developmentally appropriate routines"; teachers with poor communication skills taking to texting about behavior issues, calling parents out on a 2 year old that hits, or a 3 year old that doesn't want to sit still during circle time. Little boys being called "violent" or "anti-social"; parents being asked to consider psychiatry evals and medication - we are talking about kids as young as 2! As far as my knowledge reaches (a pre-college career of babysitting since age 11, a college education and 4 children, a career in infant development/parenting, and family advocacy) age 2 is still a BABY. Maybe some of those 'babies' are precocious and talking and and seeming to be mini-adults, but they are, by and large, babies. A baby does not have a behavior disorder. Let me be clear. Neither does the average 3 or 4 year old. I am appalled at the stories I've heard. Validated, sure, but appalled.
Griffin has some undesirable behaviors that we are working on, and isn't that what we are supposed to be doing? As parents, but also as teachers in a daycare or preschool, it's about teaching, instructing, leading by example, reinforcing - it's all a process. And because behavior is about feeling and emotion, about situation and circumstance, and a dozen other variables, you can't expect to teach them once and never have to review it again... it is not the same as learning the alphabet or the value of the numbers 1-10. Its about developing the capacity for patience and control: things that aren't in place with toddlers and preschoolers and so "behavior issues" are not issues at all - they are just behaviors.
Developmentally, skill and behavior are always undergoing change, maturation, development. Even adults learn new behaviors and social skills thru workplace training, interpersonal development, and experience. What? Oh, you mean "experience"? Yeah, thats a THING. Skills are developed, manners learned, appropriate interactions taught - through experience. Not thru inherent assimilation. So you can't say that a 3 year old, with only 3 years worth of life skills (and only about 1.5 years of that having any concrete value) is in need of psychiatric evaluation, or professional intervention, until you have put in the actual time and effort of working through those behaviors. Seriously. What has our entire educational system come to that early education workers are feeling like they need to advocate for psychiatric evaluations on BABIES??
Be patient. Be kind. Be accepting. Make no assumptions. Take things as they are - when dealing with tiny children - and be accommodating of the genuine honesty and integrity of small humans... and don't be physically abusive to them...no matter how frustrating and infuriating and discombobulating they might be... they are just learning things, all fresh and new, and practicing them moment by moment. Just love them...ridiculously!
September 19, 2016
Monday 9/19 Week 7; fresh start
If you know me, and I mean know me, you will know that I'm not filling these posts with the nitty gritty hard stuff that has been happening daily. If you know me, you probably have listened to me whine and vent about the nitty gritty; about how hard things are and about the exhausting battle every day of trying to figure out what is going on and what I'm supposed to do about it and how I'm supposed to go about doing it with the resources I have. I don't fill these posts with all of that because it doesn't always reflect well on G and he has had enough people noticing his less than wonderful qualities and doesn't need more of that. My intention was to write about his successes, about how this year healed his hurts, about our journey through it. I didn't realize how much of this journey was going to be about me as much as it is about him, or that it was going to be important to talk about the ugly stuff as well as the pretty stuff (ah, balance, there is that word again!)...because the truth is that any journey is not just the destination, but the path you take to get there.
I have been in a funk and sort of spiraling downwards lately. Parenting is hard, parenting alone is an extra challenge, parenting alone and as a stay at home mom, with a limited circle of support has been a foreign country to me and I am not a very good traveler! It's exhausting to be with G all the time. When I was at home with him in the beginning, it was easy. He was a teensy helpless infant at at first. And then he was an aware and curious and engaged baby. He became a smart, quick thinking, active and funny toddler with a great sense of fun and enthusiasm. Then I went to work. He was 15 months at first, and maintained his adorable inquisitive and happy nature...until he didn't. When he was about 22 months, I began working full time, and have continued at full time up until my last day on August 4th of this year: two years and two months of being away from my son (who is now 4 years and 3 months old) for almost 10 hours a day, every weekday. Just about half his life.
Therefore, I was deliberate in my attention/time with him at every opportunity because my time was limited, a few hours each evening was all we had together aside from the weekend. Every moment counted and I measured it out in increments and made each one matter.
Now that I'm with him 24/7 I keep feeling like I need a break, I need some "me time" and time for some "self care" but I don't know how to get it or when it is going to happen, so - without deliberate intention - I have been emotionally disengaging from him (and from everything) as a way to get a break of some kind. I'm burying myself into scrolling Facebook, checking emails, making lists on Amazon, planning elaborate projects that I will realistically never be able to complete, chatting with friends in a different time zone...and not truly engaging with my son the way I intended, the way I should be, the way he needs me to.
It's a brave choice, what I did, to quit my job and stay home with my hurting son. And wise - a smart choice - to heal my small boy now, instead of trying to heal him later over scars and thick protective walls. But it wasn't necessarily thought out very well. I focused on finances mostly - trying to decide if I actually COULD stay home and still pay my rent and utilities and feed my kids. Perhaps I should have spent an equal amount of time planning out everything else: how much attention he needs, how much 'me-time' I need, and how to balance those; along with his need for mental stimulation and challenge, and for social interaction, and how I was going to meet all those needs all by myself...or IF I could meet all those needs all by myself. Today I am wallowing, smack dab, in a pit of self doubt, of worry, of fear...while my beloved boy asks me "why?" and "how come?" and "how?" and "what does that mean?"on a regular basis. I need time to think about an answer. But there is no time available. I need a re-do, a do-over, a fresh start. There isn't one though. And that is the whole point of this. I can't re-do it, not any of it. I can't just have a "fresh start" or a re-do, I have to just keep going in spite of it all.
So while there is no fresh start, there is this: the ugly messy nitty-gritty dirt of helping a small boy regain trust in adults, relearn boundaries and safety and security, and re-establish hierarchy and rules and the black and white truths that sometimes rules US instead of us ruling them... and so maybe it is a fresh start after all...
Therefore, I was deliberate in my attention/time with him at every opportunity because my time was limited, a few hours each evening was all we had together aside from the weekend. Every moment counted and I measured it out in increments and made each one matter.
Now that I'm with him 24/7 I keep feeling like I need a break, I need some "me time" and time for some "self care" but I don't know how to get it or when it is going to happen, so - without deliberate intention - I have been emotionally disengaging from him (and from everything) as a way to get a break of some kind. I'm burying myself into scrolling Facebook, checking emails, making lists on Amazon, planning elaborate projects that I will realistically never be able to complete, chatting with friends in a different time zone...and not truly engaging with my son the way I intended, the way I should be, the way he needs me to.
It's a brave choice, what I did, to quit my job and stay home with my hurting son. And wise - a smart choice - to heal my small boy now, instead of trying to heal him later over scars and thick protective walls. But it wasn't necessarily thought out very well. I focused on finances mostly - trying to decide if I actually COULD stay home and still pay my rent and utilities and feed my kids. Perhaps I should have spent an equal amount of time planning out everything else: how much attention he needs, how much 'me-time' I need, and how to balance those; along with his need for mental stimulation and challenge, and for social interaction, and how I was going to meet all those needs all by myself...or IF I could meet all those needs all by myself. Today I am wallowing, smack dab, in a pit of self doubt, of worry, of fear...while my beloved boy asks me "why?" and "how come?" and "how?" and "what does that mean?"on a regular basis. I need time to think about an answer. But there is no time available. I need a re-do, a do-over, a fresh start. There isn't one though. And that is the whole point of this. I can't re-do it, not any of it. I can't just have a "fresh start" or a re-do, I have to just keep going in spite of it all.
So while there is no fresh start, there is this: the ugly messy nitty-gritty dirt of helping a small boy regain trust in adults, relearn boundaries and safety and security, and re-establish hierarchy and rules and the black and white truths that sometimes rules US instead of us ruling them... and so maybe it is a fresh start after all...
August 30, 2016
Tuesday 8/30 Day 17; desperation and miracles
I was at the end of my store of patience today.
In a moment of desperation, I put two preschoolers (age 4 and 5) on a couch and told them to work it out.
Prior to this I've endured endless arguments and fights and bickering over who gets to talk, and about what, who gets to pee first, who's imaginary car is more red than the other one's... and who said the word "blue" like 'blew' and who said it like 'bleue'...from the perspective of a 4 year old and 5 year old respectively. Deep breath. And one more...keep going...
So the boys were absolutely hilarious. Sitting on the couch, no, rephrase: climbing on and vaulting over the couch, and discussing "how to play together" was like one of those YouTube videos of someone coming out of anaesthesia and talking about unicorns and God. I've never laughed so hard! Or been so amazed at how well a theory worked.
Previously I had flipped thru a few books on Non Violent Communication and Parenting - set out for me by the mom of the kids I'm nannying, of course. I've heard of it before and my initial impression was along the lines of "good for her, but not for me". I mean, it makes good solid sense if you have a child that is compatible with discussion and empathy and in touch with their feelings. In spite of my best efforts and interest and self-education, my fourth child is NOT that child. My child responds well to clear concise black-n-white instantaneous reaction. But I keep trying. So at 4:30pm and at the end of my rope, I grabbed both boys up and sat them on the couch and forcefully insisted that they "work it out!" And so they did.
After 20 minutes on the couch, they played together joyfully and cooperatively for 45 minutes, and then thru dinner, and then afterwards. My god, what miracle did I stumble over??
It will never work again, I'm sure of it... but for today it was a blessing in a moment of absolute desperation. I guess it's true: miracles are the product of desperation. I was desperate, it was a miracle. And that is all I need to say about Tuesday and Day 17.
In a moment of desperation, I put two preschoolers (age 4 and 5) on a couch and told them to work it out.
Prior to this I've endured endless arguments and fights and bickering over who gets to talk, and about what, who gets to pee first, who's imaginary car is more red than the other one's... and who said the word "blue" like 'blew' and who said it like 'bleue'...from the perspective of a 4 year old and 5 year old respectively. Deep breath. And one more...keep going...
So the boys were absolutely hilarious. Sitting on the couch, no, rephrase: climbing on and vaulting over the couch, and discussing "how to play together" was like one of those YouTube videos of someone coming out of anaesthesia and talking about unicorns and God. I've never laughed so hard! Or been so amazed at how well a theory worked.
Previously I had flipped thru a few books on Non Violent Communication and Parenting - set out for me by the mom of the kids I'm nannying, of course. I've heard of it before and my initial impression was along the lines of "good for her, but not for me". I mean, it makes good solid sense if you have a child that is compatible with discussion and empathy and in touch with their feelings. In spite of my best efforts and interest and self-education, my fourth child is NOT that child. My child responds well to clear concise black-n-white instantaneous reaction. But I keep trying. So at 4:30pm and at the end of my rope, I grabbed both boys up and sat them on the couch and forcefully insisted that they "work it out!" And so they did.
After 20 minutes on the couch, they played together joyfully and cooperatively for 45 minutes, and then thru dinner, and then afterwards. My god, what miracle did I stumble over??
It will never work again, I'm sure of it... but for today it was a blessing in a moment of absolute desperation. I guess it's true: miracles are the product of desperation. I was desperate, it was a miracle. And that is all I need to say about Tuesday and Day 17.
August 29, 2016
Monday 8/29; Day 16...and balance
In my daily life, I try to focus on balance. Balance good nutrition with ice cream, a late night with a next day nap, sadness and grief with some joy and laughter. If you pay attention enough, you'll recognize the ebb and flow of each day and then when things feel really bad for whatever reason, you can hold onto the knowledge that the balance of it all will return. It helps me to get thru those tough times, to know that something smoother is just around the corner. However, I tend to forget that when things are smooth and pretty, there's usually some storms brewing ahead. Thank you universe!
Saturday night at dinner I served meals to two of my own kiddos (G and H) and the two that I'm nannying, plus J (G's dad). Six people total. And, let me remind you, this was not some special planned dinner party! It was one mom feeding a rotating cast of offspring on a hot, summer night. I pulled off two vegetarian plates, one gluten free/salicylate free plate, one picky eater plate, and food enough for all. We all sat at the table together and ate and talked and shared and there was a moment of absolute completeness in my heart (save for the fact I was missing two others of my own, plus a couple of J's kids) but it just felt full and sweet and safe and like it was supposed to be exactly the way it was. I said many many words of gratitude in my mind. And my imagination is running wild with this joy and with how to recreate it in the future.
and then there's the balance...
I have been frustrated with some of G's behaviors lately. They mostly seem to be when the nanny-kids are around. One person said maybe it was a jealousy issue. I don't think so, but I'm not discounting it entirely. I feel more like it's related to trust and safety - about how much G trusts me and feels safe with me overall, and somehow when I am in charge of more children, he begins to feel threatened somehow, or maybe his inability to be flexible creates conflict and THEN he feels fear about how that will play out without trust in me to navigate it appropriately? This ultimately manifests in behaviors where he argues with everything I say and really tries to be in control of everything he can and then gets irrationally upset when he is not in charge. Also? Everything in life is nooooot fairrrrrrrr; just in case you were wondering. It's not fair that sometimes he can't be in charge of who is allowed to talk and what the topic is. The sky isn't blue, its not, it's not at all. And it isn't only 2:00 in the afternoon, it isn't, no, no it's not at ALL, the clock is wrong, it's NOT FAIR. It is mentally exhausting, for both of us. Honestly, it exhausts me and makes it really hard to enjoy any time with him because its such a barrage and onslaught of negativity that when he IS being the sweet and tender boy that I know, I'm still seething and irritated as hell. Oh Universe, are you still laughing? Of course you are... This nanny gig is one loooong stretch.
These behaviors are only obvious and having an impact when the nanny kids are around, the rest of the time he is his usual sweet, funny self. And thus, I remain perplexed.
The reason I think it has to do with trust and feeling safe is because these kinds of behaviors were new to him and popped up after he'd been in the daycare center where he was mistreated. The Child Protective Services program (where I was directed to once I figured out he was being hurt) said that those kinds of oppositional behaviors toward a parent are typical in abuse situations and can stem from a child losing trust in the adult who sent them into the situation where they were hurt. Ugh. So, yes, my son lost trust in my ability to keep him safe. I am a loser. The truth hurts. As soon as I pulled him from that place, however, I saw a distinct lessening of those behaviors and he started getting calmer, sweeter, and more cooperative, and more affectionate. It was a sweet time, although it was very brief. Once I'd found a new place for him to go to, a lot of those behaviors began surfacing again. I do temper my observation with the fact that he is often easily overwhelmed, gets tired and over stimulated quickly, and needs a lot of 'alone time'; however those negative and distrustful behaviors went beyond the exceptions.
I took him to a therapist. I talked to his pediatrician (for the record, she is the same pedi ALL my kids have had, a very trusted female, mom, and professional whom I've had positive difference of opinions with and highly value/trust her opinion; and is someone who knows me and my family). I talked to friends, and non-friends, and I researched mental health issues in preschoolers, and in abused kids, and in average kids. I researched my own parenting, my triggers, my habitual responses, how to change my parenting/triggers/habitual responses... and Cheezncrackers!!! Nothing shed light on these particular behaviors then, or now.
So if you have a suggestion, or opinion, or some sort of outside insight? Please... please speak up. Maybe it's just jealousy. pffft.
Anyway... balance. It was awesome, and then it wasn't... and everyday that I nanny these sweet kids, it's the same. There is laughter, and there is frustrated growling. There are battles for control, battles for authority and position, and subdued, penitent cuddles and apologies. There is intense connection tempered by animalistic separation. Oh universe, trusting you is the hardest thing...and when I think of how much I personally believe in and trust my own God, it's even more of a challenge to just throw my hands up and say, "It's all up to you, cuz I have NO power here at all!" But what else can I do that I haven't already tried?
And maybe, somehow, that is in fact the essential point that I need to embrace. Trust. Hope. Believe. Honor. Accept. That's a lot for day 16...and for a 4 year old...
Saturday night at dinner I served meals to two of my own kiddos (G and H) and the two that I'm nannying, plus J (G's dad). Six people total. And, let me remind you, this was not some special planned dinner party! It was one mom feeding a rotating cast of offspring on a hot, summer night. I pulled off two vegetarian plates, one gluten free/salicylate free plate, one picky eater plate, and food enough for all. We all sat at the table together and ate and talked and shared and there was a moment of absolute completeness in my heart (save for the fact I was missing two others of my own, plus a couple of J's kids) but it just felt full and sweet and safe and like it was supposed to be exactly the way it was. I said many many words of gratitude in my mind. And my imagination is running wild with this joy and with how to recreate it in the future.
and then there's the balance...
I have been frustrated with some of G's behaviors lately. They mostly seem to be when the nanny-kids are around. One person said maybe it was a jealousy issue. I don't think so, but I'm not discounting it entirely. I feel more like it's related to trust and safety - about how much G trusts me and feels safe with me overall, and somehow when I am in charge of more children, he begins to feel threatened somehow, or maybe his inability to be flexible creates conflict and THEN he feels fear about how that will play out without trust in me to navigate it appropriately? This ultimately manifests in behaviors where he argues with everything I say and really tries to be in control of everything he can and then gets irrationally upset when he is not in charge. Also? Everything in life is nooooot fairrrrrrrr; just in case you were wondering. It's not fair that sometimes he can't be in charge of who is allowed to talk and what the topic is. The sky isn't blue, its not, it's not at all. And it isn't only 2:00 in the afternoon, it isn't, no, no it's not at ALL, the clock is wrong, it's NOT FAIR. It is mentally exhausting, for both of us. Honestly, it exhausts me and makes it really hard to enjoy any time with him because its such a barrage and onslaught of negativity that when he IS being the sweet and tender boy that I know, I'm still seething and irritated as hell. Oh Universe, are you still laughing? Of course you are... This nanny gig is one loooong stretch.
These behaviors are only obvious and having an impact when the nanny kids are around, the rest of the time he is his usual sweet, funny self. And thus, I remain perplexed.
The reason I think it has to do with trust and feeling safe is because these kinds of behaviors were new to him and popped up after he'd been in the daycare center where he was mistreated. The Child Protective Services program (where I was directed to once I figured out he was being hurt) said that those kinds of oppositional behaviors toward a parent are typical in abuse situations and can stem from a child losing trust in the adult who sent them into the situation where they were hurt. Ugh. So, yes, my son lost trust in my ability to keep him safe. I am a loser. The truth hurts. As soon as I pulled him from that place, however, I saw a distinct lessening of those behaviors and he started getting calmer, sweeter, and more cooperative, and more affectionate. It was a sweet time, although it was very brief. Once I'd found a new place for him to go to, a lot of those behaviors began surfacing again. I do temper my observation with the fact that he is often easily overwhelmed, gets tired and over stimulated quickly, and needs a lot of 'alone time'; however those negative and distrustful behaviors went beyond the exceptions.
I took him to a therapist. I talked to his pediatrician (for the record, she is the same pedi ALL my kids have had, a very trusted female, mom, and professional whom I've had positive difference of opinions with and highly value/trust her opinion; and is someone who knows me and my family). I talked to friends, and non-friends, and I researched mental health issues in preschoolers, and in abused kids, and in average kids. I researched my own parenting, my triggers, my habitual responses, how to change my parenting/triggers/habitual responses... and Cheezncrackers!!! Nothing shed light on these particular behaviors then, or now.
So if you have a suggestion, or opinion, or some sort of outside insight? Please... please speak up. Maybe it's just jealousy. pffft.
Anyway... balance. It was awesome, and then it wasn't... and everyday that I nanny these sweet kids, it's the same. There is laughter, and there is frustrated growling. There are battles for control, battles for authority and position, and subdued, penitent cuddles and apologies. There is intense connection tempered by animalistic separation. Oh universe, trusting you is the hardest thing...and when I think of how much I personally believe in and trust my own God, it's even more of a challenge to just throw my hands up and say, "It's all up to you, cuz I have NO power here at all!" But what else can I do that I haven't already tried?
And maybe, somehow, that is in fact the essential point that I need to embrace. Trust. Hope. Believe. Honor. Accept. That's a lot for day 16...and for a 4 year old...
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