coparenting | baby proofed parents

Playing Favorites :: Monday Musing

January 5, 2015 By: babyproofedparentscomment

My family was cruising along in our car the other day when my 6 year-old piped up, “Mom, are you going in to the office tonight or are you staying home with us?”

“Staying home buddy,” I replied.

“Yay!” he squealed with an enthusiasm that implied that I am never, ever home. Which is amusing since I am almost always home. “I want you to give me a bath. And read books to me. And put me to bed. Ok, Mom? Ok?”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” my husband chimed in. ”What’s wrong with me putting you to bed?” He was mostly joking. But he also had a tone of genuine curiosity that communicated, what exactly does your mom do better than me?

He didn’t get his answer. The conversation quickly moved to the cool red Mustang that was racing by in the fast lane. Undistracted by the sports car, my mind was left on the subject of favorites. I understand why my boys favor me when it comes to daily routines. I’m kinder and gentler… some would say a pushover. I gave birth to them. I breastfed them. I woke up with them in the middle of the night, over and over and over again. My body is softer, my tone is softer… I’m just soft.

Truth be told, there have been times when I’ve wanted to stand in the middle of the room and scream, “I don’t want to be anyone’s favorite right now! Hand’s off, people. Back away from the mothership. Fend for yourself. I need some space!”

When I start feeling that way, I know it’s time to schedule a meeting or a girl’s night, and excuse myself for a few hours. Turning on Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” and doing a crazy, gyrating dance in the kitchen also does wonders.

My husband, Todd, takes our boys’ favoritism with a grain of salt. He is usually quite happy to say, “You want your mom? Great. I have things to do in the garage,” and saunter out of the house with a satisfied look on his face. Perhaps he shrugs off their requests for mama because he knows their opinions and preferences change as frequently as the Texas weather. He’s well aware that they switch allegiances when convenient, declaring their devotion to Daddy. Dad’s better at teaching us how to ride a bike, Mom. Dad lets us order root beer, Mom. Dad will be able to fix that when he gets home. Dad’s just better, Mom…

He really is better sometimes. There are days when I come home from work, and I notice the wide smiles. My three men have been out and about on some adventure and they did just fine. In fact, more than just fine. It’s those moments when I know the favoritism is fleeting and shallowly anchored at best. Our boys love their mom and dad equally and benefit from our unique strengths, even if they don’t always recognize it.

When you have a family of distinctive individuals (and not uniform robots) there will be a natural flow in the relationships. Sometimes your children will instinctively lean toward you. Other times it will be your partner. Sometimes one of your kids will seem like an angel flown in from heaven, who can’t do anything wrong. Wait a few days and that same child might resemble a demon, determined to make your life a living hell. Resist the urge to latch onto permanent labels such as “easier child”, “better parent”, “Daddy’s girl”, or “Mommy’s boy”. When we put ourselves or our children in these favoritism-tinged boxes, we limit our family’s ability to flex and evolve with changing circumstances. Instead of buying into favoritism, go with the flow and focus on simply loving. Your family might resemble lumpy, uneven cake batter at times, but with consistent love and warmth, everything will sweetly even out in the end.

Here’s to Sanity and Shaking It Off,

Kirsten

Yes Trespassing :: Tuesday Tip

July 29, 2014 By: babyproofedparentscomment

The link between a mom and a newborn is remarkably intense. It can involve breastfeeding, bliss, struggle, depression, bonding, regret, anxiety, protectiveness, super-strength, exhaustion; and can overwhelm both parents. Psychologist Augustus Napier refers to it as the “charmed circle of mother and child,” and writes about how intimidating that circle can be, especially for fathers and parenting partners. Partners often experience feelings of inadequacy and isolation. They long to help, but feel intrinsically shut out of the many parts of initial bonding that are mama-centric.

My kids are lucky to have J for a dad for many reasons, but one of the biggest is that not much scares him. During my first pregnancy, he shared his conviction to stay close to me and our new baby, not allowing his own insecurities to get in the way of being as relevant and helpful as he could be. He said, “I’ll obviously never be The Mom. I don’t have those [pointed at my breasts], and there’s just no replacement for the bond you’ll have with the baby.” Before she even arrived, he started accepting that she and I would be the center of each other’s universes for some time.

Instead of J withdrawing, we both worked (and fought, and misfired, and tried again) to find ways for him to stay in the circle with us. Every partnership is different, but here’s what worked best for us:

“I can’t feed her yet, but I can feed you.” He made sure I had snacks and meals and kept my water glass full – especially when I felt too tired to prepare food for myself.

“You have to get up with her, so I will too.” During night feedings, he changed her diaper and expertly swaddled her while I got myself situated on the couch with my pillow and book.

“You focus on her, and I’ll hold down the fort.” He made grocery runs, helped keep the house picked up, did laundry, learned to set up and break down a pack-n-play with one hand behind his back, bathed her, held her for hours while she colic-cried, and snuggled with us during feedings.

Parts of the maternal bond are impenetrable, but as partners, you can swerve toward it, finding your own ways of being indispensable. Tell her you want to help, and ask her to give you specific, measurable ways you can support her and the baby. Be patient when she can’t identify what would help, and reach out for support if you both start feeling flooded. Moms, if you notice your partner withdrawing, try to identify ways he or she can connect with you. Being invited to the party feels really good, even if you’re not quite sure how you’ll fit in.

Here’s to Sanity and Circles,

Cheryl

Label My Child, Please :: Monday Musing

July 7, 2014 By: babyproofedparents4 Comments

Being married to a therapist, my husband has participated in his fair share of parenting strategy sessions. Ok… maybe MORE than his fair share. (This would be an appropriate time to bestow a little sympathy on spouses of therapists everywhere.)

One of our initial co-parenting talks took place while I was pregnant with our first child. While he sipped his beer and I sipped my hot tea, we agreed that we would avoid using labels with our new baby. The negative labels (difficult, clumsy, shy, fat, skinny, ugly) are obviously damaging to a child’s developing self-concept and can put the kid in a box that is hard to break free of. The positive labels (smart, good, beautiful, perfect, athletic) can be equally harmful. Labeled with these adjectives, a child feels like they have certain high standards that they have to live up to. If they no longer consider themselves to be “beautiful” or “perfect”, they can feel like they have somehow failed or that they’re not OK. In fact, ample research has been done on the overuse of the compliment, “smart”. When children are told continually how smart they are, they begin to feel like everything should come easily to them. And when they have to work at a task, or God-forbid, fail a few times, these same kids get frustrated and give up easily because it doesn’t fit with their preconceived notion of how smart people perform.

Instead of using the good, the bad and the ugly labels, we agreed to give our kids good ol’ fashioned unconditional love (I love you. Period.) and to focus our compliments and comments on the effort they were putting into their activities and learning (I can see how hard you are working to stack those blocks in a really tall tower. And now you’re putting all of your energy into knocking them over!) Ok, we don’t always talk like that, but overall my husband and I try to focus more on our children’s efforts and less on empty praise.

The labels that we didn’t prepare for are what I call the big box, or diagnosable labels, such as colic, Autism, ADHD, allergies, learning disabilities, chronic illness, etc. We weren’t avoiding discussion of these labels… it just didn’t occur to us to bring them up. I think we assumed (since I was taking my pre-natal vitamins, of course!) that we would never have to use any of these stigmatized descriptors. There was probably a little bit of pride and stubbornness mixed in there. But ultimately, we subscribed to the “Why worry until it happens?” philosophy, which I strongly recommend to any expectant or new parent.

So we didn’t worry… until my son was about 3 years old. That was the age when we began to notice some troubling quirks that we couldn’t ignore. Aidan had the loudest voice in the room, but couldn’t tolerate loud noises himself. He was exceptionally rough and violent with his new baby brother, but was extremely sensitive to touch and rough clothing. Teeth brushing, nail trimming, haircuts and doctor’s appointments were always accompanied by prolonged, blood curdling screaming. His favorite activities involved burrowing himself into couch pillows or throwing toys around the house. I won’t even go into the toilet training challenges we were having. At his 3-year wellness check, when his pediatrician asked, “How are things going?” I almost burst into tears as I listed off the challenges we were dealing with. That was the first time that I heard about the condition, Sensory Processing Disorder.

Later that day, my wise Cousin Val, an Occupational Therapist in Australia, confirmed the doctor’s suspicions via e-mail and gave us a long list of suggestions. Thus began a series of bi-weekly OT sessions for Aidan, or what he considered to be fun gymnastics in a place we called the “Playhouse.” No time was wasted – we were ready for some help. We surprised even ourselves with our rapid acceptance of the Sensory Processing Disorder diagnosis when we so vehemently rejected labels in the past. Looking back, there were three reasons why the label of SPD saved our little family:

It gave us understanding. Suddenly Aidan’s extreme sensitivity to everything under the sun made sense. His explosive behavior and tendency to want to squeeze himself and everything around him also had an explanation. Instead of feeling continually frustrated, we had a framework to understand our child’s behavior and we could offer more compassion and patience.

Pillow Pile for Diving

It gave us tools. Now we had more than time-outs and reasoning to help our son work through his challenges. When he seemed edgy and explosive, we threw couch pillows on the floor and let him dive in and channel his destructive energy. Massaging or “brushing” his body helped him to release the negative tension. Squeezing him between pillows (similar to Temple Grandin’s hug machine) or giving him weight-bearing exercises also helped his body to regulate. We bought sound-blocking headphones, softer clothing, and made sure he got plenty of sleep and minimal sugar. The more we consciously regulated his environment and triggers, the more his body “toughened up.”

It gave us relief. My husband and I got to trade in our “Worst Parents EVER” badges for “NO WONDER We Were Struggling!” t-shirts. The more we learned about SPD, the more we realized that Aidan was dealing with a fairly common condition that could be managed and remedied. We learned that approximately 30% of so-called gifted kids (oops, there’s a label) deal with some form of sensory issues. The diagnosis of SPD enabled us to let go of some of the self-blame and shame we were struggling with and reinvest our energy into learning about Aidan’s condition and helping him to recover.

Parents as a whole feel SO MUCH pressure to get everything “just right” and raise kids who are relatively perfect. Sometimes letting go of our fear of labels and acknowledging issues when they arise can open the floodgates for support and information.

Some examples?

If your newborn is crying uncontrollably for hours on end, don’t hesitate to reach out to your pediatrician. It might be reflux, or perhaps it is colic. Most likely it is nothing you are doing wrong as a parent.
If you are a new mother dealing with extreme depression, anxiety or intrusive thoughts, resist the urge to isolate and cope on your own. You might be fighting Postpartum Depression and we want you to get the support and encouragement you need.
And if you are really struggling with your child’s behavior, don’t automatically adopt the title of “Incompetent Parent” like we did. Read, ask questions and reach out for help. Even if your kid is “just being a kid”, it doesn’t hurt to consult with an expert – you don’t have to figure this out on your own.

Today our son is a 4th grader who, for the most part, has outgrown his sensitivities. We still make sure he gets plenty of sleep, healthy food and consistent routines. We still throw in sound-blocking headphones when we’re going to see fireworks or a concert. Just like other parents we limit his screen time and make sure he gets regular exercise. If you asked Aidan about Sensory Processing Disorder, he would say, “Huh??” He doesn’t identify himself with that label. As far as he knows, he is a normal 9 year old who occasionally drives his parents crazy. Mission accomplished in our opinion. The label we used to understand and help our child is the last descriptor he would use to define himself. And that is the kind of label our family can buy into.

Here’s to Sanity and Pillow-Diving,

Kirsten