We always worry about our kids no matter what. From the moment they are born, are they breathing, hungry, scared, healthy, happy, smart, liked? The list of everyday worries gets longer and longer the older they get - loss of eye from juice box straw, choking on non-organic, processed snack foods, fear of abduction by all men with mustaches wearing hoodie sweatshirts and dark sunglasses. While each of these is a horrible vision, they are not the worst of my fears. To me, the worst worries are the ones that cannot be controlled, no matter the amount of preparedness.
When you think your child has something physically, mentally, developmentally, or emotionally wrong with them, there is a whole new feeling that gets added to that worrying mix - guilt. Especially for mothers, you scrutinize every move you've made from conception through birth. Did I really need to ingest a jar of peanut butter a week for the entire 36 weeks of my pregnancy? Did drinking my merry way through the Christmas season, prior to knowing I was pregnant, leave my child deficient in healthy brain cells? Should I blame diet Coke for his hyperactivity? Would I sue NutraSweet or Coke? Yes, rationality tends to go out the door when questioning the well being of your child.
Brian and I have been worried about Charlie for some time now. While we joke about it, calling him Jekyll and Hyde or El Diablo, and I write about it, over the past months his aggressiveness, most specifically towards his brother, has strayed beyond the boundaries of our home. Spilling over into the outside world - school, parks, play dates - it seemed no stranger, friend, or foe under the age of 10 was safe. If someone were to take Charlie's sand toy, that child would be met with a swift poke in the eye with the end of a shovel or a bitch slap that would make Alexis Carrington proud.
And our smart, thoughtful, wonderful little boy, did not seem to care about any of the consequences for his actions. Leave the park, scream at the top of my lungs, ignore him, strap him to the roof of the car while driving 75 mph down the highway; no matter what my reaction, he continued along this same path. Aggressive, almost crazed behavior one minute, then sweetly sharing his snack with his brother the next. I chalked it up to his being 3 1/2, or the next coming of Sybil.
Brian of course, being the worried Jewish father type, has always said, "His behavior cannot be normal." This has been a source of much contention in our marriage. Me countering with, "He's fine. He's 3. I see a lot of kids we know doing the same things to their siblings." Though the more I observed, lost my temper, and lost hope that any of my attempts to alter his behavior would work, the more I came to believe that Charlie was on track to do his brother in by spring, giving March Madness a whole new meaning.
So I sought the advice of his teachers. After they witnessed him running Gregory over with the class art cart, they gave us the name of a counselor to help determine if Charlie (or his parents) had a problem. It's a big step, to admit to someone other than your spouse that something may be wrong with your child and that you're not doing a great job as a parent dealing with it. It's like if you say it out loud, it makes it real and very scary and of course, your fault. Can I fix this? What if it effects him for the rest of his life? Or worse, what if my son blames me, then goes and writes a book about it? Probably time to get rid of those wire hangers.
We went to see a counselor at Jewish Family Services. I can't say enough about what a fantastic resource this place is, for anyone in need. Her very first words to us, "From everything you've described, your child is developmentally appropriate and on course." Really? Attempting to 'help' one's brother down the slide by pushing him over the railing is normal? Drop kicking him from the top of the couch and landing on his back is developmentally appropriate?
She did give us some constructive ways to help deal with Charlie when he gets out of control, as well as good reminders about our own behavior. It's amazing when you calm yourself, how your child follows suit. Sounds simple but when I get worn down and frustrated, cool, calm and collected is not usually my first or favorite response - love those wire hangers.
She did suggest that we read some books on dysfunctional sensory integration. Without actually meeting Charlie and observing him, it was impossible for her to make a judgment. I think Brian and I felt a combination of relief and vomitousness. There really could be something wrong with our child and thank G_d we might have an explanation.
She suggested we read 'The Out of Sync Child' and 'The Sensory Sensitive Child' to decide if we wanted Charlie to be observed by someone. After researching tons of stuff on the web and reading the books, I was still not 100% that we were dealing with something other than normal 3 1/2 year old behavior. But there was enough doubt in my mind that I've asked someone from Easter Seals to come out for a home visit to see if further evaluation is necessary.
I'm writing this in hopes that people will talk about what's going on with their children with friends, family, teachers, etc. Or do like I did, start a blog to complain about them to a larger audience. While a lot of bad behavior is just kids being kids, if you feel something is not quite right or even the tiniest bit off, ask someone, read, research, get help. Mommy intuition does not come naturally to some of us; it took me the better part of 6 months to do something about my son's behavior. Even if he is fine, I still learned how I can be a better parent. I'll never stop worrying, but this is my attempt to gain some control over those feelings, especially the guilt. If Charlie does ever write that book, I'm hoping there will be a chapter entitled, "At Least The Bitch Tried."
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Body Parts
One of my dearest friends is a successful financial analyst. She carries herself with all of the grace and sophistication of someone raised in southern Connecticut, with an Ivy league education, and a high falutin career. But when she ties one on, she has been known to expose herself to large crowds screaming, "What? What's the problem? They're just body parts. See!" Then proceeds to yank on one of her breasts.
You might think this will lead into a don't judge a book by it's cover story, but it's not. Since the time he could crawl, Charlie has always been interested in his own body parts - belly button, nose, ears, etc. Like most kids, he liked to repeatedly stick his finger, a blade of grass, a stick, or a rock, into the area of interest, rummage around for a bit, then move on. Fortunately, no ER visits to date have been necessary.
I think it was at about 18 months when he found his penis, affectionately called Mr. Snappy. I was expecting this stage to get rolling around the 'tween years'. I guess my kid is advanced. On the changing table, in the bathtub, while watching Elmo on the couch, everywhere you could imagine, Charlie was doing some in depth analysis of Mr. Snappy. Everything we read said this was totally normal and not to draw attention to it. So we let him explore away. Sure enough after about a month, he moved onto something else, like emptying the contents of my jewelry box into the toilet so he could give my necklaces a 'bath'.
Today at 3 1/2, he's more into talking about penis's or any other controversial word he can think of. He told me in the car the other day, "Mommy, aren't you so glad I don't say the word FUCK. Fuck is a really bad word." When leaving a voice mail message for his uncle recently, all he said into the answering machine was, "Penis, penis, penis, penis." Then laughed like he was George Carlin reincarnated - they're just words after all, we're the ones who assign them meaning. Most of the literature I've read would agree. The experts counsel that during this phase you should ignore the language. Children like to test boundaries to try to get a reaction, and/or to feel powerful by using bad words. If you pay attention or respond, you're just fueling the fire.
We've always tried to be open with Charlie about our own bodies. We use all of the correct terms for everything (not sure how Mr. Snappy came to be) and never shy away from any question. It's a slippery slope, you want your child to be at ease with his body and not feel embarrassed by or uncomfortable talking about it. But how open do you want them to be? What are you supposed to do when your son asks the checker at Safeway if he's ever had a ladybug on his penis? Seriously, do you shush him and tell him that it's not nice to talk like that? Do you walk away and pretend like the whole thing never happened? Or do you bolt for the nearest exit before he can ask about grasshoppers in the man's ass?
When faced with these situations, it's typical to reflect back on one's own childhood and wonder what your parents would do. I know exactly what mine would have done. I remember like it was yesterday, my older brother at age 6, telling my uncle he was going 'punch him in the penis'. My mother smacked him with a wooden spoon, threatened to put hot pepper flakes on his tongue so he could never utter the word again, then sent up to his room for about an hour. I'm guessing you wouldn't see that approach on Super Nanny.
And since we weren't at home and I wasn't near the spice aisle, I chose to smile politely while removing myself from the check out line, then asked the man if he could point me in the direction of the gluten free crackers. He just stared at me, I think his weird-o meter must have been tripped. As a mother, I've become a master in redirection and deflection, though sometimes to my own detriment. Like when I told Charlie to help me make dinner instead of terrorizing his brother. 2 minutes later there was milk, egg and Cheerio soup being cooked on my floor. Neither of these was my smoothest move, though I always have the most honorable of intentions. I'm sure my picture is tacked to the bulletin board inside the break room at Safeway with a sign, 'Warning, do not approach. Mother and child may exhibit inappropriate behavior with insects.'
You might think this will lead into a don't judge a book by it's cover story, but it's not. Since the time he could crawl, Charlie has always been interested in his own body parts - belly button, nose, ears, etc. Like most kids, he liked to repeatedly stick his finger, a blade of grass, a stick, or a rock, into the area of interest, rummage around for a bit, then move on. Fortunately, no ER visits to date have been necessary.
I think it was at about 18 months when he found his penis, affectionately called Mr. Snappy. I was expecting this stage to get rolling around the 'tween years'. I guess my kid is advanced. On the changing table, in the bathtub, while watching Elmo on the couch, everywhere you could imagine, Charlie was doing some in depth analysis of Mr. Snappy. Everything we read said this was totally normal and not to draw attention to it. So we let him explore away. Sure enough after about a month, he moved onto something else, like emptying the contents of my jewelry box into the toilet so he could give my necklaces a 'bath'.
Today at 3 1/2, he's more into talking about penis's or any other controversial word he can think of. He told me in the car the other day, "Mommy, aren't you so glad I don't say the word FUCK. Fuck is a really bad word." When leaving a voice mail message for his uncle recently, all he said into the answering machine was, "Penis, penis, penis, penis." Then laughed like he was George Carlin reincarnated - they're just words after all, we're the ones who assign them meaning. Most of the literature I've read would agree. The experts counsel that during this phase you should ignore the language. Children like to test boundaries to try to get a reaction, and/or to feel powerful by using bad words. If you pay attention or respond, you're just fueling the fire.
We've always tried to be open with Charlie about our own bodies. We use all of the correct terms for everything (not sure how Mr. Snappy came to be) and never shy away from any question. It's a slippery slope, you want your child to be at ease with his body and not feel embarrassed by or uncomfortable talking about it. But how open do you want them to be? What are you supposed to do when your son asks the checker at Safeway if he's ever had a ladybug on his penis? Seriously, do you shush him and tell him that it's not nice to talk like that? Do you walk away and pretend like the whole thing never happened? Or do you bolt for the nearest exit before he can ask about grasshoppers in the man's ass?
When faced with these situations, it's typical to reflect back on one's own childhood and wonder what your parents would do. I know exactly what mine would have done. I remember like it was yesterday, my older brother at age 6, telling my uncle he was going 'punch him in the penis'. My mother smacked him with a wooden spoon, threatened to put hot pepper flakes on his tongue so he could never utter the word again, then sent up to his room for about an hour. I'm guessing you wouldn't see that approach on Super Nanny.
And since we weren't at home and I wasn't near the spice aisle, I chose to smile politely while removing myself from the check out line, then asked the man if he could point me in the direction of the gluten free crackers. He just stared at me, I think his weird-o meter must have been tripped. As a mother, I've become a master in redirection and deflection, though sometimes to my own detriment. Like when I told Charlie to help me make dinner instead of terrorizing his brother. 2 minutes later there was milk, egg and Cheerio soup being cooked on my floor. Neither of these was my smoothest move, though I always have the most honorable of intentions. I'm sure my picture is tacked to the bulletin board inside the break room at Safeway with a sign, 'Warning, do not approach. Mother and child may exhibit inappropriate behavior with insects.'
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