Have you ever noticed that whenever you speak of something that is difficult for you, people start giving you advice on how to fix your problem? That’s not a bad thing, necessarily. It can be helpful.
Or it can be unhelpful.
I remember years ago reading all of the baby books, websites, and reference manuals before giving birth to my first two babies. Ok, I’m sure I didn’t read them all. There were so many! I determined pretty quickly that nobody really knew anything about babies. Seriously.
Why? Well, because there was never a consensus on anything. People freely gave advice about how babies can’t be spoiled. Alternatively, if you pick them up every time they cry they never learn to sleep. Let the baby cry it out. Letting a baby cry it out is cruel. A baby should never sleep on his stomach. Some babies sleep better on their stomachs. Cloth diapers are the only truly responsible way. Disposable diapers will save your sanity. Nursing creates everlasting bonds between mother and child. Don’t be afraid to try formula and bottles. They’ll eat when they’re hungry. Make sure they are getting all the nutrients they need. Do what’s best for you. Do what’s best for the baby. Early bedtime for everyone. Sleep when the baby sleeps. Enjoy that time at night when the baby is asleep.
I like to think of my problems, issues, and conundrums as falling somewhere on a continuum. On one end are the situations that have a reliable, foolproof solution. On the other end are the situations that have as many solutions as there are people…and then some. I can’t actually think of many problems that have one solution that always works, but there are some that have solutions that usually work. For example, if your car battery dies because your kids left the backseat light on all night (I speak from experience, yes), you can usually jump the car. Easy-ish solution…usually (unless you can’t find jumper cables or a nice neighbor with jumper cables, etc…)
There are situations with various fairly reliable solutions. For example, if you sprain your ankle when you go to get a drink in the middle of the night and step on the ripstik your child left lying on the stairs, then you can put some ice on it, take some Tylenol, wrap it up, lecture your child, and maybe get some crutches. That’s pretty much it. You have a few solutions that are tried and true.
On the other hand, situations like, say, dealing with a daughter with ADHD and ODD have many, many solutions. I feel now much like I did reading those old baby books. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the advice I have been given over the years. I just wish that everyone could realize that at any given time I am in either a phase of change or a phase of trial.
Let me explain. There are little changes I can make in how I raise my child. And there are monstrous changes. Little changes include things like what she eats, phrases I use when I speak with her, and diversionary tactics. When I say monstrous changes, I am referring to things like my parenting philosophy, how strictly I set boundaries, and the way we set goals.
When I decide to change something big I am doing, as it relates to Aurora, I have to be all in. It takes all of my focus and energy to learn a new way of interacting with a person. During that time I can’t change other aspects of how I am raising my children for a time. I have to give the one thing I just changed a significant amount of time to be tested so that I can know if it’s something that works for us or not. This is a trial phase. If someone mentions that I should try something new like…I don’t know…acupuncture during a trial phase, I probably will just say, “Thanks for the suggestion,” and log it away.
If I find that things are going pretty smoothly for awhile, I tend to ignore suggestions as well. At that point I don’t need solutions. I enjoy the stability.
Inevitably, however, things begin to deteriorate. New problems arise. The feeling of stability starts to wane, and I start looking for solutions. Sometimes I have anticipated the problems and already have a solution. Sometimes I am blindsided.
My experiences with researching ADHD and ODD sort of parallel my experiences with baby books. Don’t let your ADHD kids use screens. Screentime has a calming effect on ADHD kids. Don’t feed them certain foods. Feed them certain foods. Caffeine helps them focus. Caffeine makes things worse. Keep a regular schedule. Let them choose their activities. Be firm. Be patient. Use natural consequences. Natural consequences are not enough. Medications are the best way to help these kids. Medications are a last resort. You know your kid best. A psychiatrist is the only one who can help you.
Needless to say, just like deciding whether or not to use cloth diapers, I have to decide with Aurora what I believe is best for her and what is best for me. I have to choose, stick to a solution for a while, and just do my best. No one else can live my life for me. Obviously Ike gets to parent her, too. We discuss together what we can do to help guide and teach our children. Because I interact more with the children, I usually get to implement changes we have discussed.
One ideology that has been working well for us for a while is allowing Aurora a lot of freedom to be creative. I try really hard not to criticize anything she makes, designs, or creates. If she totally botches a project, I don’t redo anything for her. I don’t ever want her to feel like she is being evaluated when she is expressing herself. I find this very hard to stick to when she is using objects or materials in the house that are messy or expensive. I also find it difficult when her projects are excessively inconvenient to the rest of the family.
Last October, when Aurora was ten, she decided she wanted to decorate the house for Halloween. She has a very artistic eye, and I really am not particular about holiday decorations, so I let her do it.
Naturally the other children wanted to participate, so I put Aurora in charge and asked her to give them jobs, too. I am not a decorator, by any means, and my decoration selection is very…um…limited. I don’t like Halloween much. I never have. But when someone in your family happens to have a Halloween birthday, you just learn to appreciate the day. And buy a few decorations.
I handed Aurora four packages of that cheap spider web cotton. She carefully divided the spider webs among her siblings, and they all set to work in different areas of the house. I helped the five-year-old stretch out his cotton, tuck it into corners, and made sure it was stable. By the time we were done, it looked pretty amazing, I have to say. I walked over to check out my eight-year-old’s work. It was looking very fine. Then I saw Aurora’s web. She was still working on it, but the section she had finished was stretched right across the hallway that connected the kitchen and family room to the rest of the house.
“Ummm…sweetie,” I said tentatively, “that’s going to make it really hard to walk through here. Do you think we could move it or lift it higher?”
I could see the physical shift in her eyes from delighted to enraged as she turned her glare toward me. “No!” she screamed. “I worked hard on this. It’s just how I want it. Don’t touch it!”
I sighed. “Right. OK.” We will all inconvenience ourselves so that Aurora can creatively express herself, I thought.
Do you want to know the one spot in my house that gets more traffic than any other? Yep. That one.
By the time Aurora was finished, even the kids had to duck to get past the web. Ike and I had to crawl or bend all the way over in order to not get caught in the web.
Maybe I can just shift the lowest section, I thought to myself. I tried it.
She noticed. I had ruined her masterpiece. She “fixed” it.
By the time Halloween came two weeks later, I was beyond annoyed. I worked in the kitchen making birthday treats while Ike took the kids trick-or-treating. Every time trick-or-treaters came to my door, I rushed to the door, ducked under the web, handed out candy, ducked back under the web, and returned to my kitchen.
After putting the kids to bed that night, I cheerfully demolished the webs. All signs of Halloween were gone by the next morning…unless you count the five pounds of candy on the kitchen table.
“What happened to all of the decorations?” Aurora asked that morning, pouting.
“Time to decorate for Thanksgiving!” I smiled. “Let’s make turkeys.”
Seriously. I thought to myself. What could go wrong?