March 1, 2011 ~ Day 82 Helping Hands

I guess it is no secret that I was feeling pretty raw when I wrote last night's blog about the protracted torture of my younger son by his elder brother, because today I have been blessed by an outpouring of love and sympathetic understanding from a handful of cherished friends who are also mothers.

Thank you so much.

I don't typically write follow-up or companion pieces but since this is the issue that has been at the forefront of my heart and actions today, I thought I would describe a conversation I engaged in with a play therapist over the telephone about everything going on in our home. She gave me some really concrete advice, which I immediately took to heart and embraced.

After giving her a nutshell version of the past three years with my sons, she gave me four main pieces of wisdom:

First, she told me to reframe the way I look at the situation with my eldest son. "Rather than thinking "What is *wrong* with you?" when he does something terrible to his brother," she said, "Remind yourself that he had a rough entry into the world (with the 60 hour labor) and frame it for yourself that he is doing the absolute best he can and really hanging in there despite a relatively tough beginning. Give him the benefit of the doubt and think of him with compassion."

She then told me that my expectations about my son and my fears about his actions will all come across in my tone and the way I react to him, and that it is important not to create a self-fulfilling prophecy where I treat him as though he is going to turn out as a violent or disturbed adult and then he unconsciously meets my unspoken expectation.

Second, she told me that it is actually a really good sign that he acts out at home with me rather than in the classroom, at the homes of friends or with his grandparents, etc. "As a therapist, this is actually the scenario that we would most hope for," she described. "As hard as his behavior is on you, the fact that he is letting it all out at home tells me that he feels safe and unconditionally loved in your home and family unit so he can 'let it all hang out' there, without fear that you will stop loving him."

Then she advised me that there should be some middle ground - a way in which he can act out his aggressions without inflicting them upon an actual human being (i.e. his brother). "Do you have a back yard?" she asked, "Do you have a tree? If so, when he feels like hitting his brother he can grab a pillow or a foam swim noodle and hit the tree with it instead. He is only five years old so asking him to completely extinguish his instinctual behavior is unrealistic. Instead, consider asking him to modify his behavior. If he really wants to kick or punch something, have him kick or punch his bed."

All of this excellent advice brought to mind something his first preschool teacher shared with me three years ago when he was just two years old and actively biting his baby brother. "If he wants to bite," she'd said, "Give him a wet rag - maybe even a frozen wet rag so it will feel good on his gums - and let him bite that. It will satisfy the urge and give him a place to get rid of his anger safely, without hurting the baby."

I had completely forgotten about that until now.

The last piece of advice the play therapist gave to me was perhaps the most profound. I had asked her whether she accepted our health insurance, which she does not. We discussed out of network fees, deductibles and other bureaucratic details... but before we ended our conversation she asked me to think about one thing.

"Given your financial situation," she said, "I can see why you may want to consider finding an in-network play therapist. However, before making your decision please consider this. You may wish to pay privately to consult with a therapist rather than going through insurance companies, because once a mental health diagnosis is given and recorded on his insurance record, it will stay there forever. Do you really want this sibling rivalry issue dogging him for the rest of his life?"

What a kind woman to share this information with me! I had reached for the telephone to call her based on the recommendation of a dear friend (thank you, K!!!) coupled with my own gut instinct. I obviously had not taken the time to think through what potentially using our insurance coverage to enroll our son in a few sessions of play therapy would mean for his long-term future.

I adore my son and I am not ready to make *any* choice that will even possibly affect the rest of his life~his ability to receive insurance coverage~his school and work records. Land sakes, he is only five years old! Everyone in life deserves second chances, and I feel like at his age he deserves fiftieth and one hundredth chances. He has so much potential and is such an incredible human being in so many ways. I am not ready to slap a label on him (e.g. "Adjustment Disorder!") and I am not eager for anyone else to do so either. He is HIMSELF. He is amazing. He is difficult. He is artistic and sensitive. He is my complex, much loved son.

My husband and I talked all of this over tonight during what was supposed to be a romantic dinner date (note to self - do NOT discuss children on romantic dinner dates!!!) and agreed that it will be worth the money for us to pay privately and go together a few times to meet with this play therapist to learn how we can parent our son more effectively and be a strong team for each other in the process.

We're not sure if our son himself will ever actually make it to a therapist's office, but we did agree that we both need help in learning how to respond to our child's words, moods and actions. It's nice to be on the same page about this.

At the end of the day, the friction between my sons may well turn out to be something I have unwittingly instigated or perpetuated. Who knows, there may be some big changes that I need to make in my parenting style! Whatever happens, I am 100% up for it and open to learning. "Please, be honest with me about my own parenting behaviors and ways of thinking," I encouraged her. "I love my son with all my heart and if there is something that I can alter in myself or my own behavior or parenting style that will help to nurture him and make him a happy (and reasonably kind) sibling, I will do whatever it takes."

So that is where we are at, as of now. I am feeling so much more optimistic and proactive. I can nearly see a path forward and a potential light at the end of the tunnel of carnage, where yesterday evening I saw none at all.

Perhaps my eldest son could sense my relief, for he is a sensitive and intuitive kid. When I picked him up from school this afternoon he confided, "Mommy, I think I'm going to earn one of those 'family tickets' for acting good tonight and I do not think I will hit my brother at all because we both love our grandma and we are going to have a lot of fun with her tonight while you are on your date with Daddy."

I'm so happy to wrap up this blog by reporting that for the first time in weeks, both boys DID indeed earn their special family tickets tonight (for treating each other gently with no fighting... even when we were stuck on the freeway in traffic and they were both exhausted!) which puts them each one step closer to earning the special toy of their choice... and puts me one small step closer to creating an atmosphere of genuine peace and contentment in our family life.

It may not be much... but it's a start!

January 5, 2011 ~ Day 27Everybody Wants To Dance

Well it's gorgeous outside and a new day brings a new perspective. Just further proof that everything happens for a reason, because I've got a lot of new ideas about the topic I was trying to write about the other night that got erased.

The new thing around here lately is that one of our sons has suddenly shown an unusual talent at dancing. It's more than a typical "Oh, look ~ that cute little guy is dancing" kind of thing. The kid's got rhythm, style and a real love for it. We learned quite unexpectedly that if you turn on loud music, he can't help himself from breaking into spontaneous dance. He dances in restaurants, in grocery stores, in Target. The boy's a teeny Billy Elliot - he's got Happy Feet.

It's gotten to the point that people outside of our family are noticing, and suggesting that we do something about it. As in, "You should give him a class and see what happens, he's really got something there."

And I've got to confide, it isn't really a huge surprise that one of our kids has the dancing bug - because one of my brothers was a professional dancer for years. He danced with ABT and the Pennsylvania Ballet. I grew up literally flying around the country with my parents to watch him perform. So there's something floating around in the ol' gene pool, and my boy seems to have it.

Most crucially, he loves it. When the little guy starts to dance his face lights up like a firework and he glows. His smile could light the world on fire. Which is a beautiful thing, since this is the same shy child that hides behind me when we talk with strangers... and who sulks for hours if he thinks a friend is being mean to him. He's a sensitive little dude, and his teacher has on more than one occasion during the past four months referred to him as a loner.

So clearly we're looking into how to give him dance lessons (turns out, they aren't cheap). We're also trying to support him enthusiastically, because it is really wonderful to see him find something that he genuinely loves and is naturally good at.

Here's where the tricky part starts.

Our son has a brother and a sister. The sister is too little to have discovered passions for much more than eating like a football player and playing with her brothers' toys. She'll take LEGOs and the infamous plastic Buzz Lightyear any day above a stuffed animal or baby doll. Our middle child though already suffers from "younger brother" syndrome and is constantly trying to keep up with his older brother. If Bug is playing soccer, Bean wants to play soccer too. If Bug learns to write his letters, Bean is grabbing the pencil to try for himself. If Bug grows and inch, Bean tries to stretch himself taller.

Bean is three and he doesn't really understand that fact. Since the very day we brought him home from the hospital, his greatest entertainment has been watching his big brother and yearning to be like him. He thinks it is insanely unfair that he is physically smaller than his older brother and thus subjected to chronic teasing and rough-housing. In his heart he feels equal to his brother and it is torturous for him to have to watch his brother do new things and not be able to participate due to his age or height. The local theme park becomes a nightmare for him, as his older brother can go on all kinds of rides with Daddy that Bean is not allowed upon.

What's a mom to do then, with one child suddenly sparkling and thriving in a newfound limelight... with the other child watching from the sidelines in envy? These are the kind of things new parents never anticipate and it's sort of a shock when they arrive. What do you do when the star and the underdog are BOTH in the same family, and they have to live with each other on a daily basis AND you are the parents of both?

Do you

• ignore the success, because you don't want it to make your child vain or overly proud of himself?


• encourage the little one by saying, "When you're his age, you can do it too!" all the while understanding that this child doesn't really seem like the type of kid that would enjoy that activity?

How do you keep all of your children from feeling overshadowed by their siblings, especially when there are already intractable differences in age and physique?

I still don't really know how to navigate the obvious and steadily widening height differential between my children. Two of them are above 90th percentile in height for their age, meaning that they are taller than 90 percent of children born at the same time they were born. The third child is in the 7th percentile for height. Meaning that 93% of children his age are taller than he is.

I adore my children for their individuality and think they are all stupendously adorable. I could care less that one of them is a little bit on the short side. It just makes him cuter to me. But he seems to care a lot about it, which breaks my heart. He talks all the time about how he is "getting bigger, mommy!" and I just don't have the heart to break it to him that he seems to have inherited the short genes from both sides of our family. My grandmother AND my mother-in-law... both of very petite build.

So I find myself praying that he will grow. Can you believe that ridiculousness? I actually pray to God that my three year old child will grow to be tall so he won't spend the rest of his life feeling inferior to his siblings. What a silly thing to pray about, with all of the suffering in the world, but I still find myself doing it... and spouting trite cliches at bedtime: "Remember honey, good things come in small packages!"

I'm fairly confident that praying for a child to become more like his or her siblings is NOT the right way to handle the situation. It doesn't seem like a very spiritual thing to do, either.

Getting back to the main point then, I've been agonizing over how to exult in the victories of one child without making the other two feel inferior.

This morning I had an epiphany though, and I think it's bright enough to illuminate the way forward.

I suddenly remembered that the only way to get through any tough interpersonal situation with a group of disparate people is to communicate. To talk WITH THEM about it.

And it makes sense!

Our children are the vested stakeholders in the situation. They are the ones whose feelings will be sheltered or hurt based upon our behavior as parents. They are the ones who feel they must compete with each other. So they are the exact people who need to help me construct guidelines for how to celebrate their unique accomplishments in a way that is least hurtful and most constructive for our family.

What a relief! We're all in it together!!!

So, I brought it up with them before school this morning.

"You know guys, Daddy and I need your help."

Little ears perk up, because small children like to be needed and considered important.

"What do you need help with?"

"Well, Daddy and I have noticed that each of you three children is totally unique ~ which means not the same as each other. You all have special things you are good at. Have you noticed that too?"

Older child - "Um, sort of."
Younger child - "We ARE the same as each other!" (Cackling mischievously.)

"Daddy and I would like to find a way to be proud of you for being who you are, each of you, without any of you feeling bad or left out."

"What do you mean, mommy?"

"Well, for example, if you score a goal at your soccer game... we want to be proud of you! But we don't your brother and sister to feel badly because they are too little to play soccer yet."

Older child - smiles. He likes thinking about the idea of himself scoring a goal in soccer.
Younger child - "I'm going to play soccer too!"

"Of course you are, honey. So anyway, what I'm trying to say is, we need your help. Can you tell us how we can make you each feel special without anyone feeling left out?"

Older child - "How about you give us all hugs?"
Younger child - "I LIKE HUGS!"

"I can definitely do that."

Older child - "And maybe there is something good that each of us do. Like I score goals in soccer but he (pointing to his brother) makes a nice picture with crayons. So, you can say "I'm proud of you" to both of us."
Younger child - "I can do both! I can play soccer AND I can draw with crayons!"

"I am very proud of all three of my children. You are all very precious to Daddy and me."

Older child - "Mommy, can we be done talking now? I'm hungry. I want pancakes."
Younger child - "Pancakes!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yummy!!!!!!!!!!! I want lots and lots and lots of syrup!"

"Hmmmmm.... we'll see about the syrup buddy."

And it was that easy.

I'm sure that as the years pass there will be hundreds more of these conversations. I will need to keep asking them the same question - "How can I love and support you in a way that doesn't make your siblings feel badly?" and "How can I love and support your siblings without accidentally making YOU feel badly?"

The main thing is, we've started the conversation. We're in it together, and while my husband and I will always be the parents - our children can help guide our parenting choices when it comes to dealing with their individual sensitivities and emotions. Hopefully between the five of us we can avoid at least some of the pitfalls that arise so easily in any relationship between multiple people. As long as we all keep talking - asking hard questions and really listening to each other - I think we are going to be okay.