If I Was In Control…

If I was in control of my child, they would never cry.

If I was in control of my child, they would never say No to me.

If I was in control of my child, they would never get sick.

If I was in control of my child, they would always pick up their mess without me asking.

If I was in control of my child, they would never feel pain.

If I was in control of my child, they would never inflict pain on others.

If I was in control of my child, they would get straight A’s in school…okay, maybe B’s.

If I was in control of my child, they would actually tell me what their day was filled with.

If I was in control of my child, they would always tell me how they were feeling when asked.

If I was in control of my child, they would never do drugs.

If I was in control of my child, they would not partake in the drama.

If I was in control of my child, they would go to college (with a full scholarship of course).

If I was in control of my child, it would take them longer to learn independence and what will happen when they make mistakes.

If I was in control of my child, I would never feel guilt or their pain, or their loss and misgivings, because they would be exactly who I crafted them to be.

But since I’m not in control, nor can I be, I will focus on what I am in control of.  ME, their role model, their sounding board, the holder of the keys to their luxuries.  I will hold on to what is mine and share what I am able to offer.  My reactions, perceptions and responses to the world around me.  And I will practice my acceptance of this reality, over and over and over again.

What would you do?

I have always enjoyed watching my kids play soccer and this morning’s instructional soccer practice was no different.  A chilly, but beautiful morning, all bundled up, sun shining, kindergarteners chasing after the ball like a pack of hyenas after their prey.  It reminded me of the many seasons before where we’ve spent our Saturday mornings watching both kids play since they were three.  My son had the same coach this Spring as he did last Spring, which made me think of the last time he played with this group of kids.

I remembered one dad in particular of one of his teammates.  He looked so familiar to me, but I couldn’t place where I knew him. Every week, I’d watch him interact with his son, trying to figure out why he looked familiar…as if staring at him would jog my memory.  By the end of the season, I still had no idea how I knew him, but I’d spent a lot of time watching him and analyzing his relationship with his son.  He always seemed right there, by his son’s side, whispering in his ear to reiterate the coach’s instruction, cheering him on and hovering close.  I was the opposite with my son. Keeping my distance, wanting him to listen more closely to the coach’s directions without my help or reinforcement.  Giving him a high five at water break time, but otherwise, letting him be. But I admired this father, and his clear bond with his child.  The way he stayed close to him to let him know he was there, safe and loved…and I really wanted to figure out how I knew him.

A couple of months later, a friend of mine from graduate school informed me that one of our former classmates had recently passed away from cancer.  An aggressive cancer he had been battling with for a while.  He was the one guy in our tight group of future counselors, who put up with our constant antics and jabber jawing.  Immediately, I realized exactly who she was referring to.  It was him. The father from the soccer team.  That’s where I knew him.  And he was gone.

I struggled to wrap my mind around it.  He looked perfectly healthy to me.  He was at every practice. He was involved and protective and loving.  He hovered to let his son know he was there.  And the whole time, he was fighting for his life.  He knew he had terminal cancer.  He knew his time with his son was limited.  He knew that those hugs were numbered and that the instructions he gave him were a short script.  But he gave his son every ounce he had and he seemed to do it effortlessly.

As I watched my son play this morning, I thought of him. I wondered what it must have felt like to be with his children, his wife, his friends and family, not knowing how many more experiences he’d have. I wondered what I would do differently if I knew I might not be around tomorrow.  Would I be more patient with my kids? Would I change the way I treated them? Would I spend my time in other ways?

In my mind, I live each day as though I have a thousand more years to go. When I teach my children what I want them to know, I expect to one day feel the satisfaction of watching them do the same with their own children. I daydream of enjoying time with them when the hard labor is done.  My goals for them are to be independent, kind, respectful and thoughtful human beings, who love themselves unconditionally, but I am often looking in the future and not focusing on who they are and who I am to them today.

We’ve all heard the advice that we should live each day like it was our last.  But until you’re in a position where you can see an end, it is incredibly easy to take our time, our health and our moments of content for granted.  We are spoiled with moment after moment of experiences and opportunities, seemingly endless.  We get to choose how we want to use them and rate them as valuable or not. They are the non returnable gifts we are granted each day.

So I question if I would parent my children differently if I knew my time with them was limited?

My answer is… I don’t know.

Whether or not I’m here tomorrow, I would teach them the same lessons when the opportunities became available. I would give them the same consequences when they made mistakes, but I would spend more time together on the experiences we do have.  I’d waste less time on arguing my points and more time on modeling what I want them to learn.

And although I would teach them the same, I would love them more intently. I would hover over them at soccer practice and cheer for their effort when they didn’t think I was looking.  I would whisper in their ear to make sure they knew what they were doing and let them know how proud of them I always am.   I would stand near them so they could feel my presence for that moment and hope it would linger. I would do exactly what that father did for his son…intently.

But for now, I will count my blessings and not my days. I will love them the best way I know how. And I will try to remember that each moment is a gift, no matter how I choose to use it.

What would you do differently if you knew your time was limited?

Thank Goodness I Have You

Thank goodness I have you,

To make me feel sane.

To listen without judgment,

Always easing my pain.

For laughing at my mistakes,

For telling me all will be okay,

For opening up the door,

When I’m tired that day.

Thank goodness I have you,

To share my life’s woes,

And for giving me new shoes,

When I keep stubbing my toes.

For pushing me forward,

When I’m on the right path,

And for standing in my way,

When I’m a victim of my own wrath,

Thank goodness I have you,

To remind me of my success,

And for leading me back,

When my motivations digress.

For keeping me flexible,

When I’m sure I can’t bend.

Who would I be without,

My amazing friend?

Thank goodness I have you,

For without You, there’d be no Me.

And a world without Us,

Would be an empty place indeed.

Practice What You Preach

Do you ever find yourself talking to someone, hear the words come out of your mouth and  think, “now, that is some good advice, I need to try that” ?

I do this all the time.  Sometimes I think I am really just counseling myself…or I simply need a lot more help than I realize. Either way, I could be better at practicing what I preach.  It’s one of the side effects of being imperfect.

I am a control junky.  I like to control my environment as best I can.  But when I realize (sometimes it takes me a little while) that something is genuinely out of my control, I typically have the sense to step back, acknowledge my role and let it go.   When it comes to parenting, I will always be the first to question what is within our control in our quest to “manage” our children.  What can we actually do versus what we think we can do when it comes to controlling our children’s behavior?  I can easily outline what our responsibility is and how we can handle it. What I apparently can’t do, is live by that theory with any sense of ease.

When my kids have a problem, I do my best to help them talk it out and work through it. Sometimes time constraints and my minute patience get in the way, but we are pretty consistent with this communication.  Consequently, my children are well versed in talking about their feelings and processing how they want to handle situations…when they are with me.  I always tell them what I think and how I view a situation, so they have a clear understanding of what I want them to do and think. I am working with my manipulative tool box as often as I can, in hopes that they will follow my lead and do exactly what I want them to.  Just being honest….

So when my daughter was having a friend issue recently (girls, glorious girls) and I didn’t like the way she was handling it, I stepped in to interject and take control and my daughter patiently looked at me and firmly said “Mom, this is my problem.  Give me some space to figure it out. I need to learn how to handle it on my own, the easy way or the hard way.”

At first, I was a little offended, but before I opened my mouth to object, I realized that she was handling it exactly as I wanted her to.  On Her Own. I’d given her instruction. She knows how I feel.  I’d modeled the behavior.  And now, it was her turn to show what she learned and do it independently.  The ultimate goal of parenting.  And it was painful…

I so badly wanted to intervene, to process the issue smoothly and objectively.  I wanted her to be respectful and not hurt anyone’s feelings.  To say the “right” things and walk away with everyone feeling good. I wanted to be part of the conversation and fix it when it wasn’t going the way I thought it should.  But, she asked me not to. No, she told me not to.

So, I said, “okay, fair enough,” held my breath and walked away.  I had done my part. I was not in control.  It was time to let go.  About 30 minutes later, she came back to me and said “problem solved.”

I’m not sure how the problem got solved because I didn’t ask.  I was assuming that was part of the “handle it on my own” request.  If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. She never did. And apparently, it’s not my problem to solve.  Even though I believe it, wholeheartedly, it doesn’t make the letting go of control part any easier.

I think we both learned some boundaries that day. Okay, maybe it was just me noticing she was creating boundaries and I learned that we had them.  I am not to be the Puppet Master of my children’s lives, just their rock star teacher who shares what she knows, constantly yells at them to put their shoes away when I trip over them, and smothers them with kisses when they least expect it.  And turns out, I think it’s pretty good advice.

Sweet Angel

My precious daughter, I knew you well before we met. You visited me in my dreams, promising me a different life, showing me what was possible, far beyond what I could comprehend.

You were to teach me lessons….Of hope. Of truth. Of responsibility. Of balance.

I didn’t know how ready for you I was until you entered into my life.  You waltzed in without instructions and demanded I figure it out.  Your presence made me question myself, my strength, my knowledge, my ability to give.  How did you get here?  How did I deserve you?  Do I have what it takes to be what you deserve?  Your smiles helped me answer those questions.  Your laugh solidified what I hoped to be true.  I was meant to be your mother and I would do the best I could and we would be okay, no matter what.

As I watch you grow, I greatly admire your sensitivity, your kind nature, your ability to befriend anyone you meet.  I listen with quiet satisfaction as you tell stories of your compassion, your desire to do right by others and your frustration when life is not fair.  You are learning well and teaching well, a skill I could not have taught you on my own. I thank the world around you. You are a true gift, to me and to all those who are lucky enough to be in your presence.

You wear your great grandmother’s name well.  You emulate her character in strength, passion and making those around you feel loved and welcome at all times.  There could be no other name or heroine to suit you better.

My precious daughter, I have promised to keep you safe, to keep you healthy and to love you more than anyone could in your life.  And in return, you have given me a life I treasure, enormous pride as your mother and a Love that is unrivaled by any emotion that I have ever known.

Happy 9th Birthday to my Sweet Angel Ella!

To Medicate or Not? Another Perspective

After the last post, My Perspective: To Medicate or Not, I was taken back by the multiple responses (most directly to me) of those who have chosen to medicate and the tough decision to get there, along with the disappointment with the lack of support to do so. So when my friend Beth King, a 5th grade teacher for the past 12 years, asked if she could offer her own perspective, I was happy to have her share it with you.

The debate surrounding “To medicate or not to medicate” is one that can end up being fueled by emotions that often need to be put in check in order to make the decision that best fits your family and your child.  I offer your readers another perspective to consider when that choice is looking them directly in the eye.  Understand that while I accept and recognize the benefits of alternative approaches to psychological disorders such as homeopathy, acupressure/puncture, and the likes, I am a staunch supporter of medication for children, teens, and adults.  I speak from the combined perspective of parent, teacher, and personal experience.

As someone who found great relief from a lifetime of struggle when a doctor properly prescribed medication, I argue that my parents should have paid attention to my symptoms instead of dismissing them and punishing me for “irresponsibility, immaturity, and being dramatic.” Developing any sort of self-confidence was a great effort because I constantly felt as though my issues were my fault or a result of my inadequacies.  I know that some of the readers may argue that perhaps this was more a result of poor parenting than of chemical imbalance, but you’ll just have to take my word for it that that was not the case.  I maintain that once I sought out proper counseling in combination with medication I was able to see a clearer picture than my unbalanced brain could before the drugs.

I did not enter into the world of “better living through chemicals” lightly or without trepidation.  I did my research and asked many questions of multiple doctors.  In the end, the benefits far outweighed the negatives. And trust me, my husband and children are better for it as well.

Now, after more than a decade in the career of educating children, I too often feel terribly helpless for the students who are experiencing the same roller coaster of emotions that I suffered through because they are early on labeled as “troublemakers, impulsive, and lazy.”  While we, as teachers, claim to be non-judgmental with every new class we get, we are also human.  And with that comes the compelling need to “share our concerns” as a courtesy to next year’s teacher. These labels hang over our children throughout their years of schooling, causing them to eventually self-fulfill the prophecy because they don’t believe or know that anything else is possible.  By trying different methods or approaches to remedy the behaviors, be it homeopathic, diet, or something else other than pharmaceuticals, parents can ultimately be dragging out the suffering for their child because each method must be tried for a significant amount of time in order to determine its effectiveness.   And with every failed attempt comes a deeper sense of self-blame even in elementary aged children.

I do not believe that prescriptions alone can cure the diagnosis, and should not shoulder the entire responsibility.  I believe and stand by the testament that, with the assistance of proper medication, the individual’s brain can then be ready to tackle, confront, and begin to learn coping strategies that will ultimately improve not only the outward impression of the person, but the inner impression as well.

Q&A My Perspective: To Medicate or Not?

QUESTION

What is your take on behavior-modifying medication for children?

MY PERSPECTIVE

I love this question because it’s something I think about often.  I have worked with many, many teenagers who are on medication for ADD/ADHD, Anxiety, Depression and Mood Disorders and I have seen and heard of many remarkable changes and equally as many unremarkable changes.

The decision to medicate a child is a tough one and should involve multiple conversations with your child’s doctor and a clear understanding of what the medications can do and not do.  Personally, I am typically hesitant to interfere with  a growing child’s brain chemistry (especially teenagers whose hormone level fluctuations could be extracted and marketed as psychosis inducing drugs themselves), but I do believe there are times when the brain chemistry could use a little tweaking and can help change lives for the better.  The big question is which drugs, for how long and what are the pros and cons of each.

But to your answer your question, I do not believe there is any medication that will change a child’s behavior.  Medication can sometimes help correct dysfunction occurring in the brain chemistry, but it will not change a child’s behavior.  Only the child’s beliefs and attitudes will change the child’s behaviors.

For example, if a child is on medication to manage their ADD/ADHD and it works as proposed, they will be able to focus more on tasks at hand and hone in on some skills that might be a challenge when continuously distracted.  This can be very beneficial for children who are motivated to do well in school, but struggle with the ability to stay engaged for long or even short periods of time.  For the child who is not motivated to do well, the medication will still work, but it will not change their attitude or desire to do the work until they have decided the change is important. My advice to a child who struggles with symptoms of ADD/ADHD is to work to figure out tactics that help them manage their inattention, both inside and outside of school.  Sometimes professional help can be helpful in accomplishing this.

Another example is when a child is on medication for anxiety, and it works as proposed, the medication will help “take the edge off” and promote a less reactive nervous system.  This can be very beneficial for those who are willing to take steps to change their negative thought patterns and learn some new coping skills to manage their stress. But for those who are unwilling to change anything they are doing, it will offer minimal success in overcoming their anxiety and distress.

My point? Medications can be a great supplement in conjunction with making behavioral, attitude or habitual changes to alter the patterns that are not currently working for the child, but they will undoubtedly need additional support beyond the medication for lasting and real results.

On a personal note, I am a huge fan of homeopathy and naturopathic treatments.  They are typically without threat of harmful side effects.  To me, there is nothing to lose when trying out this angle and makes parents like myself, much more at ease when using trial and error tactics on my kid’s growing body.

Little Big Boy

Little boy, you stole my heart,

The first time I heard you cry.

Hearing your breath so loud and clear,

As if your soul let out its first sigh.

Before we met I wondered aloud,

If I had enough love to give,

But the moment I saw your beautiful face,

I forgot how I once had lived,

Without this love I felt for you,

With the empty space you filled,

Who on Earth was I before

This garden of life you tilled?

You made the sun shine brighter,

And the rain dance when hitting the ground,

You made the clouds look like angels,

And the birds sing with a glorious sound.

You gave to me a purpose,

You’ve showed me who I am,

You’ve helped me dream in color,

As only my little boy can.

And now as I watch you sing and laugh,

Your extraordinary life away,

I don’t know how I lived before,

You taught me how to play.

Little boy, you stole my heart,

The first time I held you in my arms.

And now that you are my little, big boy,

With your endless giggles and charm,

I hold you tight whenever I can,

Before you get away,

And smother you with kisses,

Hoping that you’ll stay.

But soon enough, before I’m ready,

You’ll be my little, big man,

Stealing the heart of someone else,

As only my little boy can.

Happy Birthday to my little, big boy, J-Man, the happiest boy who ever lived!!

Q&A My Perspective: Body Image- Friend or Foe?

QUESTION

My 10 year old daughter and her friends are obsessed with weight and body image.  They are constantly critiquing themselves and comparing themselves to everyone around them.  It hurts me to think that she is unhappy with herself just the way she is.  What can I do to change her attitude?

MY PERSPECTIVE

Your 10 year old daughter, and the 15 year old neighbor, her 18 year old sister,  the 25 year old college student who lives up the street from them, her 45 year old professor and her 70 year old mother….all obsessed with body image and weight.  It’s everywhere.  In our society, where the quest for the best recipe is equally as hot of a topic as fitness and weight loss, it’s amazing we all don’t sit home and count our precious calories with every bite and then shame ourselves if we took one bite too many.

And of course, our wafer thin role models of beauty and popularity in the media are rarely above a size 2 for women.  Although the push for plus size models has made its way into the mainstream marketing world, the attitude shift of acceptance and redefining beauty is much slower than is necessary to protect our current generation of image obsessed daughters with image obsessed role models in the form of caregivers, peers and the super cute actors and actresses they watch on TV.

I would like to tell you to beat it into her that true beauty is who we are on the inside and it shouldn’t matter what people think of you as long as you know you are beautiful and treat others with kindness, etc, etc. etc….but if that was easy, than we wouldn’t have this society filled with the image obsessed.  I think we are still a great distance away from saying “Hey Vanessa, your heart looks beautiful today.  You must have been really kind to others for it to look so good. What level of gratitude are you feeling to beam so brightly? I must have it!”

And although its true, that beauty does reside within, it’s a matter of understanding and believing this at your core level and living it in order for it to make a difference, not just saying it.  If you’re not there yet, then I suggest starting with the basics.  With your daughter, write down on paper what internal beauty looks like and what external beauty looks like. Define them and then come up with the pros and cons of each.  What does internal beauty get you versus external beauty?  And vice versa.  Sometimes we need to intellectually differentiate and name it to make it understandable.

And be truthful.  People are drawn to other people  by the way they make them feel.  We are naturally attracted to people who make us laugh or feel good.  Most of us can think of a time when we met someone whose outward appearance was attractive, but their personality or the way they treated others made us rethink how we rated their attractiveness.   It’s easy to find lots of examples of these characteristics and personalities from characters on their favorite TV shows and movies.   Point out the the way others respond to them and their attitudes, despite their appearance.  Use them to explain the value and importance of how they treat others and the lasting impact it will have, thus increasing their natural attractiveness!

But most importantly, notice the way you talk about yourself and your body image.  Caregivers are the primary role models for children, as they watch everything we do and say.  What are your own attitudes toward your self image?  If she hears or suspects your own dissatisfaction with yourself, she will naturally think this is the norm of how she should respond to her own perceived flaws.  Even if you are not in love with your own body, model your behavior as though you are and wait till you see your friends to air your frustrations, while you are working on your own transition to change any negative attitudes you may have.

It’s a tough one, this change of perception. But the foundation of acceptance you help her build now, can make the rest of her eating and living career that much more pleasant.  And for those around her as well.

Unite: It’s What We are Able to Do

Yesterday, I attended an anti bullying assembly at an elementary school. I feel so fortunate to be able to experience events like these because they reinforce what I wholeheartedly believe to be true.  People are inherently good.

While I watched these young boys and girls get up and do skits to teach their peers the difference between telling versus tattling, I saw the pride they held being a part of an opportunity they believe will help others. I recognized this pride, I have it too.

While I listened to these young boys and girls share stories of being the victim of bullying and being the bully themselves, all the emotions they experienced that went with it and what they learned, I heard the courage in their voices to stand up and speak for themselves in an effort to promote change, not only internally, but to those outside of themselves.  I recognized this courage, I have it too.

While I blinked the tears out of my eyes as I felt the emotions of confusion in these young boys and girls of why life can feel so complicated, even at the age of 5, I also wondered why sometimes we do and say things that are hurtful and mean and spiteful.  And even though, we know and feel its wrong, we do it anyway.  And then we learn that hurting others doesn’t feel good, ever, no matter what we say.  I recognized this confusion. I have it too.

While I embraced the message of these children and watched them unite in their cause, full of hope in its reach and assured in its value, I held on to the belief of how we all want the same things.  To be loved, to love and to help those who are forgetting what that love feels like. I recognized this hope and desire. I have it too.

Those who hurt others are hurting.  It feels awful to hurt someone else. Always. (except maybe for the sociopaths, but statistically, their an unimpressive number) When my kids are mean to each other, I ask them how it feels when the words come out of their mouths and afterwards.  And always, always, they say it feels bad.  Because it does.  We don’t always instinctually want to hurt, even when we’re doing it, but sometimes we can’t seem to pick a better behavior quick enough to replace the negative one we chose.  And it happens.  And we pay the consequences one way or the other…internally or externally….without fail.

When I hear about kids bullying other kids, I immediately feel anger and want to protect those who are bullied.  I have a strong desire to want to punish the bully.  I want them to feel the pain they created in others. Sometimes this desire is overwhelming.  But I choose to practice my skill of thinking before I speak, (most of the time) knowing that pain on top of more pain does not actually create less pain.  So, instead I teach.  I teach what it feels like to hurt and what it feels like to be hurt. It’s what I am able to do.

And those young boys and girls chose to teach yesterday.  They taught what it feels like to hurt and what it feels like to be hurt. They taught that they too, can make a difference.  It’s what they are able to do.

And I remembered we are One.  We all have the ability to teach.  We all know what it feels like to hurt and be hurt. We are both the cause and the solution and we are in this life Together.  We learn from Each Other.  Them, Me, You.  It’s what We are able to do.