The "Look" You Get When You Are Being Judged as a Parent

I wonder if having your child misbehave and embarrass you in public is a universal experience for parents.  Are there actually people who have no idea what it is like to have your child make a scene and attract attention in negative ways?  If you are such a parent whose child never made you look or feel inadequate throughout his childhood, I will be happy for you and somewhat mystified by your existence.  Until I meet or hear from one of you, though, such a parent will remain a legend or mythical creature to me.  I can even imagine a book titled, “The Parent Who Never Erred” or perhaps “Consistently Compliant Children:  Fact or Fiction?”  I think people would buy the book either to learn everything they could from such success or to disprove and discredit a story that seems too incredible to believe.

            Overall I think I had great kids.  They generally wanted to please and were relatively compliant.  With that said and my motherly bias evident, there were times when my children exposed me to “The Look” as a direct result of their behavior.  And I’m not talking about the look that a parent gives to a misbehaving child.  I’m talking about “The Look” that a parent gets from an overtly critical onlooker.  Allow me to explain “The Look” in case some of you have never experienced it personally, either on the giving or receiving end.  It is not a pleasant thing to have directed your way, because “The Look” is given when people disapprove of your children or the way you are handling them.  Sometimes it seems to communicate revulsion with you and your child, passing judgment and finding you guilty with one sweeping glance.  Givers of “The Look” can communicate entire monologues just using the powers of eye gaze and facial expressions.  “The Look” asks you why you can’t control your child.  “The Look” may convey disgust at your perceived inadequacies or your child’s atrocious behavior.  Givers of “The Look” may want to know what is wrong with your child that he would behave in such unacceptable ways.  

            Two of my three children were diagnosed with AD/HD and Sensory Processing Disorder and inadvertently provided me with plenty of opportunities to receive “The Look”.   Before I was a parent, I didn’t even know such a look existed.  To find myself on the receiving end was highly uncomfortable and I was already overwhelmed and insecure about my ability to parent in such a way that my children’s special needs were met.  I was still learning about their challenges and although I worked very hard to teach my children good manners and appropriate behaviors in various settings sooner or later one of them would do something that resulted in “The Look”. 

            It is an especially devastating feeling to be judged and found wanting when it involves your children.  I invested my life in raising my children and yet complete strangers could zap me with a look and I’d feel crushed and rejected.  It was even harder to respond when “The Look” came from family and people who knew us, because it was often accompanied by unsolicited advice.  When an incident occurs in a public place, the odds are that you will get “The Look” from multiple people at once.  Have you experienced this?  If not, can you imagine how discouraging it would be?

            I know people who have children with autism spectrum disorders.  They have shared with me some of their frustrations and experiences when they got “The Look”.  One mom I know was in the grocery store when her son had an extreme meltdown and was engaged in a full-out tantrum.  This mom understood that when her son was that upset he had little self control and often flailed about in such a way that he could harm himself, others, or property.  As matter-of-factly as she could, this mom restrained her son using techniques that helped him calm down and kept him from hurting himself.  While she was endeavoring to help her son, she had store customers and employees giving her the look and making hurtful remarks loudly enough for her and all who were in close proximity to hear.  This mom knew that people thought her son was just a brat and she was an ineffective parent.  Her son’s autism didn’t show in his physical appearance, and she was faced with the decision of whether to explain that her son was autistic or try to ignore the people surrounding them. What would you do?

            One woman I know was at a store when her daughter with autism became loud and agitated.  This mom knew her daughter was reacting because she was over stimulated by her surroundings. She knew how to deal with her, but there wasn’t an immediate fix to help her daughter wind down from her distraught condition.  The mom didn’t like it, but she was used to getting “The Look”.  This was not unusual behavior for her daughter and during this particular episode she overheard a spectator say that perhaps Child Protective Services should be called since the child was obviously out of control and the mother was clearly incompetent to subdue her into compliance.  After that, she began to carry little cards that said “My child is not just misbehaving.  She has autism” and proceeded to explain some of the challenges faced by many individuals on the autism spectrum.   Handing someone the card was easier than trying to verbally explain all the nuances of autism in the midst of a crisis when her daughter needed her full attention.

            Another friend of mine adopted a child with special needs.  He had some neurological damage due to prenatal drug exposure and he was hyperactive and impulsive.  He did not seem to learn from experience and consequences had little effect on his behavior.  This little boy had no fear and needed constant supervision to keep him out of harm’s way.  In order to keep him safe when they were away from home, his mother quickly realized that a wrist strap would prevent him from darting into the street and would keep him in close proximity to her.  She was horrified and bewildered when people would give her “The Look” and make critical remarks about “people who keep their kids on a leash”.  This loving mother was only trying to keep her son safe yet people made assumptions and jumped to conclusions without truly understanding the situation.

            As far as I can tell “The Look” exists in every community, but it does not seem to help anyone.  Can making a person feel inadequate or condemned ever encourage them to keep trying in spite of the challenges they face?  I hope that this article has encouraged some of you if you have been the recipient of “The Look”.  You are not alone.  For the rest, I hope that you will be aware that your kind words and supportive looks can be as powerful and impactful as “The Look.”

Joshua Fought the Battle of...the Flannelboard!

     Do you have a child who can always pay attention, sit still, and comply with directions and requests?  If so, you may not be able to identify strongly with this post.  On the other hand, you may have other children someday or know of some who are similar to my son, Joshua.  My son has always been an “outside the box” kind of thinker.  He is so far outside the box that he doesn’t know the box exists.  He thinks in terms of what is possible, rather than being limited to pre-existing established patterns.  To say that Josh is a non-conformist would be a gross understatement.  This kid doesn’t just march to the beat of his own drum; he marches to the beat of his own oboe or something.  His creative thinking made his behavior unpredictable at times, which in turn made parenting him very challenging.  Can you relate?

            I am a pretty linear thinker, and although I’d like to think that my box is large I am definitely an “inside the box” kind of thinker.  This was one of the challenges I faced in parenting Josh, because my own responses to situations were logical and predictable to anyone who knew me.  Even though I tried I just could not anticipate how Josh would respond in many situations.  Novel experiences were the most unpredictable, and I’m sure that even Josh did not know what he was going to say or do in advance much of the time.

            For example, our local library had weekly story times for preschoolers, and Josh looked forward to attending each program.  Josh tended to observe rather than take part with most of the activities, though.  He sat on my lap and watched the other children sing songs and do the motions to finger plays.  When the librarian read books, Josh would push forward to get a better view of the pictures, but he usually sat on his knees so he wasn’t blocking others’ views.  For Josh, the true highlight of each week was the flannel board story.

            The librarian would tell a familiar story, using the flannel board and various flannel pieces.  Even though this was his favorite part of the 30 minute program, Josh could barely contain himself and wiggled and hopped around while the story was being told.  With frequent reminders and prompts to sit down so that others could see, Josh waited for what he really liked best about the flannel board. 

            Each story seemed to spark ideas for a hundred others in Josh’s imagination, and our librarian was kind enough to give Josh free reign with the flannel board following the official story time.  With or without participation by others, Josh would tell his original stories or take the existing story and give it multiple alternative plots and conclusions.  Inevitably, Josh’s stories would include a battle of some sort.  He could take the most peaceful setting and turn it into an epic battlefield.

            Since Josh like flannel board stories so much, I bought him a huge set of Bible flannel board pieces.  I thought it would be a great way for Josh to learn some Bible stories. He loved it!  As my oldest child, I thought he might like to teach some of these stories to his younger sisters and it would be good practice for his oral language skills, too.  Josh dutifully repeated the story I taught him, and then devoted his energy to expressing his creativity and imagination.

Another flannel board battle ensued each time the carefully organized Bible set was brought out for a new story.  I am a Mom who likes things to be in their proper place, and the flannel board set had outlines of the pieces on each storage board which greatly appealed to my desire to have things organized.  Josh, however, liked to select pieces for his stories willy-nilly and (gasp) even took pieces from different boards and stories that were not grouped to together.  He even mixed up the Old and New Testament pieces.  It was horrible!  Okay, it is probably not that big a deal to most people, but it was a battle for me to give up my neatly arranged flannel board pieces so that Josh could express his God-given creativity.

         
      Josh is now a young adult, but he still remembers the flannel board stories with great fondness.  He remembers making up many adventurous tales and having a lot of flannel pieces to work with from our large Bible flannel set.  His favorite, he recalls, was the time he put the kneeling Jesus figure behind a  large clay jar on a table turned on its side to provide cover.  From that position, Jesus proceeded to shoot stars at his disciples across the room.  And so it went in the imagination of a young boy, who believed that Jesus could do anything including spraying stars wherever He wanted them to go.

            Whereas some people lament their lack of creativity, Josh and other outside the box type of thinkers find they have to stifle their creative urges many times throughout the day.  It was always a challenge for me to find good boundaries that allowed Josh to follow his many ideas that led him in a myriad of directions while redirecting him to get his school work completed.  Getting the academic work done did take us longer on some days when Josh pursued some of his imaginative ideas, but I wouldn’t squelch the creativity of my son for anything. 

What's in Your Wallet?

     There is a commercial advertising a credit card company that ends with the question, “What’s in your wallet?”  While this is an interesting question, at my house I am more likely to hear, “Where is my wallet?”

            Life with the distractible and disorganized can be discombobulating.  I live with three family members who have been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and due to challenges with inattention and forgetfulness often items get lost or misplaced.  Sometimes my kids will ask me if I’ve seen something that’s gone missing.  Since I like things to be organized and put away in a logical place, there are times when I can locate the missing object because I put it away instead of leaving it out where it was dropped. 

            I have systems for cleaning and organizing.  The problem is with implementation and cooperation from the rest of my family.  I have a strong need for things to be put away where they belong so I can find them when I go looking for them.  Just last night I pulled out all the ingredients to make a delicious smoothie, but when I went to get my smoothie maker only part of it was in the cupboard where I keep it.  I had a blender base with the pitcher and a lid, but the ball on a stick part used to help move the mixture around in the pitcher was missing.  I looked in all the places I could think of putting it, but only one place really made sense to me and that was to store all the smoothie maker parts in the same location.  My husband came into the kitchen and joined me in the search for the missing part.

            After looking in the same places I had looked, and striking out just as I had, my husband began looking in places that made no sense to me but just might contain the lost tool so they warranted a look.  Even then we could not locate our smoothie tool, so we…looked in all the same places again!  I’m not sure why we do this, as if the missing item that wasn’t there previously will somehow show up if we look again in the exact same place.  This strategy was also unsuccessful, so we moved on to asking our children if they knew where the missing piece was hiding.

            This is not generally a good strategy, either, because we are talking about distractible people who misplace things all the time and absentmindedly leave things in odd places.  But it was worth a shot, since we had nothing else to go on at that point.  Both children stated where they might have placed it, but neither actually remembered doing so and the item wasn’t where they suggested.  This time, my husband decided to try substituting a silicon spatula in place of the missing tool, with the result that we had delicious smoothies with bits of a chopped spatula mixed in.  I think I swallowed a piece.

            Those types of lost items are frustrating and inconvenient, but not nearly as alarming as missing driver’s licenses, phones, or my personal nemesis the missing wallet.  Not my wallet.  Remember, I have a “wallet place” where my wallet lives and is predictably located when I need it.  My daughter and husband have misplaced their wallets multiple times, though, and it sends me into a far greater panic than they experience.  While my mind is racing with all the possibilities and security risks, they are unsystematically roaming the house looking in odd places for their wallets.  Sometimes they leave the house for a minute and I realize they are checking the car to see if it’s there.  Or maybe on the sidewalk, or in the grass, or…well, you get the idea.

            My daughter will, at times like these, casually ask me if I’ve seen her wallet.  She acts like it’s not really a big deal because it’s bound to turn up sooner or later, and she really believes that! Hunting for her wallet is like a treasure hunt and is only mildly irritating if she doesn’t find the wallet.  I, on the hand, begin mentally listing all the items that will need to be replaced or cancelled.

            My husband is more subtle about searching for his missing wallet or other items, and rarely asks me to help him look anymore.  The reason he doesn’t bother seeking my assistance is because I’m not much help at finding whatever he has lost.  I look in logical (to me) places where I would leave my wallet, for instance, and since I have a “wallet spot” I don’t have too many places to look. 

            Even when my husband doesn’t come out and say that he’s misplaced something of importance, I can recognize the signs.  He enters a room scanning it like a secret service agent taking everything in at a glance.  Then he moves around the room, picking up papers and small portable items while surreptitiously looking under and around them.  He never panics, and never tells himself not to bother looking in strange places because he knows the missing item could be anywhere.  While I fret about possible identity theft, my husband remains unruffled as he continues his quest for the missing wallet.

            I no longer reach the panic stage as quickly as I used to, because more often than not my husband and daughter do find their missing wallets.  Rather than berate themselves for having lost them, they congratulate themselves on another successful recovery.  I would like to avoid the stress of “Where is my wallet?” but I do admire the resiliency of my family members who just don’t sweat it when these events happen.  They take it in stride as casually as a driver stopping for a red light, doing what the situation calls for and moving on.

Speaking of moving on, I just heard my husband in the next room quietly asking himself, “Now where did I put my keys?” 

             I am quite confident that he will find his keys, no matter how strange a hiding spot they are in, because his experience and resiliency will win out.  Keys, your time on the loose is limited.  Give yourselves up!  You will be found.

The Real Social Security

It’s hard to avoid, especially when you are a child. You read about it, hear others talk about theirs, and are prompted to write, talk and answer questions about it. What is the subject of this insidious obsession? A best friend. Doesn’t everyone have one?

Don’t get me wrong, I think best friends are wonderful. What I have difficulty with is the emphasis expressed to children about the need for one. The question, “Who is your best friend?” assumes that the child has one very special friend. Writing about what you like to do with your best friend is easy - if you actually have one. If you don’t, then the perception can be that something is lacking and you should try to obtain a best friend as soon as possible.

There are many wonderful children’s books describing the shared adventures of best friends. As a child I had the impression that everyone was supposed to have a best friend and if you didn’t, something was wrong with you. I felt the pressure to latch on to somebody so that I could have a ready answer when asked who my best friend was. Having a “best friend” was my goal, and I wasn’t particularly discerning in my selections.

In kindergarten, my best friend was Mike because he and I shared the same birthday and he gave me some pennies one time. In first grade, my best friend was Darryl, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy who held my hand under the table during music class and showed me how his eyes crossed when he took his glasses off. I thought that was so cool! After first grade Darryl’s family moved away so I had to find a new best friend and some other lucky person got to see Darryl’s crossed eyes.

There was an unspoken pressure to find a best friend replacement whenever the previous relationship cooled for any reason. By late elementary school, everyone understood that if you had a best friend you would have a seat saved for you even if you and your best buddy weren’t next to each other in line. There would be a spot reserved for you as your best friend placed a hand on the chair beside her and informed any would-be interlopers that the seat was saved. Before the teacher finished saying “Find a partner” for an activity, you and your best friend already knew you would pair up together. No one else even bothered asking you to be a partner since everyone understood that you would be with your best friend. You and your number one pal never had to wonder who you would eat lunch with or talk to at recess. Having a best friend was a relational social security that offered the assurance you would always have someone around.

For a child who struggles socially, making any friends let alone a best friend can be difficult. It’s complicated, because most of us have no idea how to teach our kids social skills that come naturally for most people. When you see your child try unsuccessfully to join a group or make a new friend, it is heartbreaking. How much should you try and intervene? You can’t make friends for your child, but sometimes your child doesn’t seem to be able to make a new friend by herself. Unless you’ve held a lonely child in your arms, knowing how badly he wants to have a friend but isn’t experiencing successful relationships it is hard to understand just how devastating it can be for that child and his parent.

I’m afraid that some of that need for social security through having a best friend can follow us into adulthood. For example, my daughter got to know a girl in our homeschool support group and the two of them really hit it off. They had a lot in common and enjoyed being with each other. The new friend’s mother had been college roommates with another homeschool mom in the group, and those two mothers had already decided that their daughters would be best friends. My daughter watched as the other two girls were shuttled to each other’s houses for play dates and signed up for classes together at the local parks and recreation programs without a backward glance.

These moms were not being deliberately unkind or exclusive. They were trying to give their daughters the kind of social security they had valued when they were growing up. There were quite a few moms in my homeschool support group who would not sign their children up for sports or other group activities unless their child’s best friend would be in the same group. The child with a best friend does not have to make an effort to include another child, because socially they are set. The child without a buddy in the group is more motivated to find another child who is at loose ends socially.

I tried to teach my children to look around and notice who might need a friend, and make an effort to include them. I was no doubt more sensitive to this than most, because I was a mother of one of the socially isolated children. Can you imagine the depth of sadness a parent feels when they are the only friend their child has? Truly, a good friend is an incredible blessing.

I get to know quite a few moms during my speaking engagements and my speech therapy practice. I’ve met some incredible women who agonize over their children’s lack of good relationships. Some children act in atypical ways because of their challenges such as autism or attention deficit disorder. Their moms work hard to teach them social skills, but their children continue to struggle and after awhile they are no longer invited to group social events because they are “different” and their behaviors make others uncomfortable. Now, in addition to isolated children there are increasingly isolated mothers.

As much as I’d like to believe it is the rare exception when an adult loses friendships because of her child, I know from personal experience that it happens frequently. Moms of special needs children need extra support, but often end up with less support because of their child’s differences that set him apart in a negative way. It’s a cycle that deserves to be interrupted.

This whole “best friend” situation can perpetuate the exclusion of those without one particular best friend. Maybe we could teach our children that even if they have a best friend they can still be friends with others and include them. Adults, even if your social needs are adequately met, I can guarantee you that there is someone in your life who longs to experience even a little of the camaraderie you share with your best friends. You and your child may not feel the need to add another friend to your life, but please look around anyway because someone undoubtedly needs your friendship. Can you share your social security with someone in need? If so, you just might change their lives – and teach your child how to love like Christ does along the way.

The Hyperactive Slug

Here is a phenomenon that I think I understand until it happens in front of my eyes again and I find myself baffled anew despite what I know. Two of my children have ADHD and the hyperactivity component is strong. My son, Josh, is a fidgeter and a tapper. When he was younger the phrase "ants in his pants" seemed pretty accurate. By the way, if your child is a literal thinker like Josh was, do NOT tell him he has ants in his pants unless you want said pants removed in a panic while the child hops around screaming "Get the ants off! Get the ants off!" Same thing for telling a child that he needs to get his head on straight. I'll never forget the look of confusion and dismay on Josh's face as he slowly reached up to his head to see just how crookedly it was placed on his little shoulders.

My ADHD daughter likes to run across the room and then slide as far as her momentum carries her on my hardwood floors. This is a fun pastime for her and one of the ways she expends excess energy. This behavior has been going on for years, and since she is now legally an adult I'm thinking she may not outgrow this hyperactivity. I can picture her in advanced years, gray hair pulled back in a pony tail, attaching waxed wheels onto her walker and scooting across the nursing home floor. Over and over.

So, okay, as someone who struggles with fatigue problems I admit to being envious of the energy that hyperactive people seem to have in spades. But here is the baffling part - my hyperactive children can go from full-speed to sloth-speed just like that. During our homeschool day, Josh would wiggle and squirm until we took a break. Then he'd run around like a cyclone until I called him back to the table for our next school subject. After reluctantly returning to his chair, Josh would go from full-on energy to extreme lethargy in a matter of seconds. He would slouch and prop his head on his hand as if it took too much effort to hold his head up without support. Often, this child who needed way less sleep than I did would begin to yawn. He appeared to be anything but hyperactive. What's going on?

I've also observed that despite obvious hyperactivity much of the time, when I actually need Josh to move quickly he seems incapable of doing so. In fact, the more Josh is urged to hurry up, the pokier he becomes. Despite encouragement (and some yelling and begging) with increasingly desperate exhortations that we need to leave right away or we will be late, Josh doggedly has one speed, and that speed is slow. Slow, methodical, and plodding are not my idea of hyperactive. The more pressured and hurried Josh feels, the slower he seems to move. Even telling him to "Run!" doesn't work. He might trot a few steps at most and then return to his set pace. It's aggravating, but Josh isn't being deliberately obstinate or difficult. Again, what's going on?

Josh, like many children with learning challenges, had difficulty regulating his state of alertness. He tended to manifest extremes - high energy or slug-level energy, with not much in between. Josh couldn't explain what was happening, because it was all he ever knew so it was his "normal". I tried dietary interventions, thinking he was experiencing some kind of physical crash. Except it was only happening when Josh was asked to engage in tasks that demanded sustained attention and a relatively still body. My dietary interventions had no effect with Josh. I tried having him sit on a hard wooden (uncomfortable) chair so he couldn't get overly relaxed. This, too, had no effect. I offered ice water for him to sip, an inflatable cushion disk or therapy ball to sit on, fidget toys, and other sensory strategies, and over time we were able to find some things that helped some of the time. I'm still looking for anything that actually helps all of the time. It is my dream and quest.

For parents and teachers, it may be helpful to take a look at the "Take Five" Alert Program. It will help with identifying states of alertness and ways to promote regulation of the attention state. In addition it is a useful tool in helping your students understand themselves and how they can make adjustments to meet the needs for both calming and increasing alertness.

God bless our amazing children, who force us to become better teachers than we ever wanted to have to be! But we are better teachers now, because these struggling learners have stretched us far beyond what we thought we knew. We are so much richer because of them.

I Need Eleven!

Have you ever been baffled or surprised by something your child says? You may be certain that you heard the words correctly, but they don't make sense. Having children with learning struggles, I often found that I needed to clarify both what I said to my children and what they were communicating to me. With a combination of ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and auditory processing difficulties, communication was often a challenge. First, I had to obtain and keep my child's attention long enough to convey a message. Then I had to determine if the message had been accurately received. If distractibility and impulsivity didn't interfere, we could have a good conversation.

Children with learning disabilities often have unusual ways of expressing themselves. My son Josh had some word finding difficulties, so he would refer to the ankle as "that wrist part of your leg". Likewise, the elbow might be "the knee of your arm." Once when Josh wasn't feeling well I asked him to describe his symptoms. He often used vague and nebulous words to tell me what he felt. I felt like a detective who needed to ask just the right questions to get my suspect to tell me what I needed to know.

One time, though, Josh told me his throat was sore and described what he was feeling in this way, "I feel as if my uvula has been acided off". (I like the "uvula" part - true son of a speech therapist!) This description, although no doubt atypical for most children, painted a clear picture of the location and degree of Josh's discomfort and indeed it turned out that Josh had strep throat. "Acided" may not be a real word, but it sure got the point across. Josh usually sailed through illnesses with little response to pain, so when he complained I knew it was serious.

When children are infants, we fret because they are not able to tell us what is wrong or where they hurt. We think how nice it will be when they are able to talk and tell us more exactly what they feel. If a child is a late talker, nonverbal, or has difficulty with expressive language we have to continue interpreting possible meanings to whatever communication attempts our child is able to produce.

My daughter Beckie was a big talker, and it was easy to tell that when she wanted "lunch fries" she meant "french fries" and that her "Valentime" was a "Valentine". Since she had auditory processing issues, she said things the way she heard them and I continued in my role as communication detective to determine what Beckie was trying to convey. This was somewhat complicated by the fact that Beckie chattered a lot and was not always looking for a response but rather was processing her experiences by speaking out loud.

When she was a preschooler I noticed a frequently occurring phrase, "I need eleven!" Eleven what? I tried to figure out if she was trying to practice her counting skills, trying to collect something, or was just repeating something she had heard. But where had she heard it? Beckie was always a cuddle bunny, and was frequently snuggled up in my lap while we read books or talked. I tried to become aware of the context when she "needed eleven", but couldn't narrow it down. She said it contentedly when she was climbing onto my lap or getting a hug. She said it when she was physically hurt and when her feelings were hurt. When I asked her if she wanted to count to eleven together, she happily replied in the negative and wrapped her arms around me for a tight squeeze.

One day Beckie had been visiting one of her best friends for a play date, and I went to pick her up. She and her friend were sad to have to part ways, and the other child's mother offered comfort by asking her son if he needed a lovin. I realized that "Do you need a lovin?" was a common phrase in that household, and in Beckie's young mind had been translated into "Do you need eleven?" It had nothing to do with numbers, but had a strong connotation to comfort and the expression of affection. Since I had responded in ways she needed despite my lack of understanding about what she was saying, Beckie was inadvertently effective in her communication with me.

This is just one more reminder that love can make up for so many things. We all make mistakes with our children. We realize after the fact that we erred in our approach to teaching some students. We feel the pressures to convey the right amount of information at the right times while helping our struggling students develop skills to help them be successful. Our curriculum isn't always a match for what we need. Our children may not be progressing at the rate we desire. We lose it. We yell, we apologize, and then catch ourselves being impatient again. We feel inadequate to meet all the needs we face on a daily basis. The stakes are so high.

You've heard it before but it bears repeating. What our children will remember the most is the relationship we have with them, not the specific things we deliberately taught or the strategies we used to help them learn. I blew it with my kids sometimes, and I knew it. I truly believe that my relationship with them is more important than any school subject and thus needed remediation before we could proceed with our official homeschooling. I find it very humbling, yet restorative, to apologize to my children when I have wronged them. They have always been very forgiving and amazingly resilient, a picture of God's grace to me.

Showing grace and respect runs both ways in a relationship. It builds character and will outlast the school years as a child grows into an adult. Have you been focusing so much on getting the school work done that you've lost sight of the importance of relationship? Don't let standards and benchmarks keep you from seeing the individual child who is right in front of you. Teaching a child is a great aspiration, and teaching in the context of a relationship is powerful. Children may not remember everything you've taught them, but they will remember you. Do you have the kind of relationship you want to become part of their lifelong memories? Let's give our children lots of "elevens" and protect our relationships as they grow.

A Mom Like You

In the last six weeks, I've had the opportunity to speak at three different state homeschool conventions. At each conference I attend, I share information about learning disabilities, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Sensory Processing Disorders, and Auditory Processing Disorders. More important than the facts I pass along are the real-life stories from my own family experiences. I share what didn't work as well as what worked at least some of the time. I share some of the failures and frustrations as well as our hard-won achievements.

When my first two children graduated from our homeschool in 2006, we declared our school colors to be black and blue. We were the homeschool of hard knocks! Not only did my children struggle with learning, but I struggled to try to find better ways to teach them. One of the biggest benefits for those attending workshops for children with various special needs is to look around and realize they are not alone. There are others striving to teach children with challenges, and others who understand the difficulties families face when their child has to work harder than most for every small gain they accomplish.

What has always amazed me is how God has prompted me to share some of the hardest, most unimpressive movements of my life and that is what people are blessed by in my workshops. Sure, I offer lots of tips and practical strategies, but what people connect with is hearing a speaker who admits to not having it all together but never gave up trying. My son is a young adult now, and he comes to conferences with me. People look at the two of us as survivors, who dealt with a lot of learning challenges and came out intact. Now Josh can share his perspective, and give parents insight into why their children may act the way they do.

I've never had all the answers to the challenges my children faced. What I did have was a commitment to help them grow into the unique individuals God intended them to become, equipping them as best I could. Sometimes I was out of ideas for how to teach a given topic, and my kids still weren't "getting it". All I had to offer was reassurance that I would keep trying to find ways to help, and would not give up on them. I would be the knot at the end of the rope that they could hang onto. The message was: Mom doesn't have all the answers but Mom will always be there with you, coming alongside until we figure something out.

Don't underestimate the power of just being there for your children. You don't need to know all the answers, but your kids need to know you haven't given up on them. It's in the safety of knowing your love is unwavering that your children find the courage to try again, fail or succeed, and try some more. Our children are far more than what they can or cannot do, and they each have something to offer. This overall supportive attitude has a far greater impact than the best teaching strategies in the world.

Years ago I had a man in his 30's come up to talk to me after I presented my workshop, "Helping the Distractible Child". I don't remember which conference it was, but I will forever remember what he said to me. He explained that as a child he always had difficulty paying attention, and was constantly getting in trouble as a result. He thought he was smart enough, but couldn't sit still and had trouble completing assignments. He tried hard to comply with the demands put on him, but always felt like he was a disappointment to his parents no matter how hard he worked. "I wish I'd had a mom like you," he said. "One who could see the strengths and work with me."

One day all of our children will be adults. I challenge you to be that Mom, the one who never gives up on her kids no matter what. Be that Dad, who is consistently there for his children regardless of their struggles. Be that husband or wife who sticks around during the hard times. Be that person, so that one day your adult children will be able to say, "I'm so glad I had a Mom (and Dad) like you."

My Beckie, Homeschool Valedictorian 2011

1993 was a monumental year. It was the year I started homeschooling and the year that my youngest child, Beckie, was born. Beckie was the kind of baby who quieted as soon as she was picked up. She always seemed content just to be with people. As an infant, Beckie was perfectly happy with attention from any adult or child. By the time she was a toddler and on the move, she enthusiastically joined in play with other children.

Her brother and sister (Josh and Beth) were crazy about her and wanted to include her in all their activities. They loved to teach her about whatever they were learning and when we were out and about Josh would hold one of Beckie’s hands and Beth would hold the other. Beckie was a very versatile playmate. She loved tea parties, dress-up times, Legos, and playing in dirt. Josh says Beckie is the best little brother he could ever have wished for.

I can still picture Beckie’s beaming smile as she grew up, and remember thinking how very loved and confident she always looked. More than once I thought I could have aptly named her “Joy” instead of Rebecca, because she typically seemed so joyful and brought it to others. It was hard not to smile when Beckie was in the room.

Like her brother, Beckie has dealt with attention challenges (ADHD), sensory processing difficulties, and an auditory processing disorder. Despite these struggles, Beckie has faced them with grace and determination and has experienced success. Today she is a second degree black belt in karate and at the time of her high school graduation she has already completed her first year of college.

Beckie has grown into a lovely young woman. She is compassionate, optimistic, funny, and strong. Her sense of humor and quick-witted observations are delightful. Beckie’s enjoyment when she is with animals and children is contagious. She is a loyal friend and a defender of the underdog. I think Beckie is amazing, and it has been a privilege and a blessing to be her teacher and Mom.

Beckie graduated from our homeschool, the Family Home Academy, on May 22^nd, 2011. Congratulations, Beckie!

Cooking and Sensory Processing

My son Josh is not a picky eater. He's always been good about trying new foods. If Josh resists eating something the problem he has is not usually with the taste or texture of something, but the smell.

As a young adult Josh now manages most of his sensory problems with ease. He has discovered that he enjoys cooking and decided he needed to expand the number of recipes he knows how to make. I've taught him the basics of meal preparation, and I compiled a list of easy-to-prepare recipes that I thought Josh would enjoy making and eating. One such recipe was "Easy Lemon Chicken". Josh would gladly consume the final, baked version of this dish. Unfortunately, and I didn't know this about Josh, he can't stand the smell of lemon juice.

He's fine with lemonade, lemon-scented soaps, cleaning wipes, and lemon jello. In fact, I can't think of anything lemony that Josh reacted negatively to as a child. This experience revealed that there is something different and acrid for him about lemon juice and it was so hard for him to smell that concentrated lemon scent that he had difficulty just measuring it out to make the recipe.

Adding to the challenge was Josh's tendency to be impulsive, which of course is consistent with his ADHD diagnosis. With all the ingredients, even very common and frequently used ones, Josh automatically gives them a sniff before adding them to a recipe. He tells me he needs to check to make sure the smell is consistent over time and that things should smell exactly the same way each time or something seems wrong and he feels suspicious about that ingredient. In any case, sniffing food items is a well-developed habit by now, though thankfully not in public anymore.

Josh gave the lemon juice a whiff, and had an immediate nose-wrinkling response followed by thrusting his arm as far from his nose as he could extend it. Blinking incredulously, Josh proceeded to...take another whiff from the bottle of lemon juice. Why? Partly due to impulsivity and partly due to his sensory system demanding consistency over time. He had to check again just to make sure it smelled as noxious to him as it had the first time. Yep! It still smelled awful to him, but at least he knew what to expect the second time.

Predictability is comforting to the sensory-challenged. It helps to know what to expect, even if it is still an unpleasant sensation. Better the bad sensory experience you know than the unexpected sensory experience which could prove very unsettling merely by the unpredictability factor. Josh powered through the olfactory assault as he prepared the recipe, although it wasn't as "easy" for him as the recipe name implied.

Can Dogs Have ADHD?

I walked in the door after a busy day and was greeted enthusiastically by my two goldendoodles. They wiggled and wagged their tails frantically around me, my husband, my daughter, and son as if they hadn’t seen us in days. In reality, it had only been a few hours, but it’s always nice to be welcomed home by those who are always thrilled to see you.

After greeting the dogs and saying hello to the cat who watched calmly from across the room, I noticed that there were bits of debris strewn on the dining room floor. Uh-oh. There were chewed up bits of paper along with other items that had been in the trash can when I left home. There was also a trail from the kitchen into the dining room, and it looked like the dogs (or at least one of them) had been pretty busy making a mess while we were gone. I put the dogs in the back yard so we could get things cleaned up without their helpful interference.

Slapshot, who is 2 years old, at least knows how to act like a dog in trouble. He avoids eye contact, tucks his tail a bit, and slinks a little. He takes himself to the back door and waits to be let out, darting down the steps as soon as he can squeeze his 95 pound doggy self through the opening door. He doesn’t bark to be let in until we come and call him or he feels he has paid his penance.

Daisy, on the other hand, is just over a year old and is totally clueless as to what it means to be in the doghouse. She gives the same toothy grin when she’s getting her leash on to go for a walk as when we discover she has chewed up a shoe and scold her. If she is put outside so we can clean up after her, she eagerly heads out and looks over her shoulder to see if we are coming along to play with her.

I’m not sure, but if there is a doggy ADHD I think she may have it. Some of the signs are there. Let’s see. She’s definitely hyper, and enjoys jumping on and off my furniture. Multiple times. She persists despite correction and redirection of this behavior. This is consistent with the hyperactivity my two ADHD children displayed when they were young.

Impulsivity? In spades. I have to be on the alert when I walk her because if she sees something interesting she will take off on a moment’s notice and try to drag me along behind her. I suspect that dragging sensation she feels is the only way she even remembers I am with her.

Distractible? Daisy excels in this category as well. I have been training her in basic obedience skills, starting with the command to sit. At first, she just gave me that toothy grin while lunging for whatever treats I had to give her incentive to learn to sit. Then she would sit just long enough for her tail to hit the floor and she’d be back to the lunging. It would have been great if I had been trying to teach her to bounce her hind end on the floor, but I actually wanted her to sit and stay put for a little bit. I should probably mention that I also had this experience with my ADHD children!

At this point, Daisy can sit with Slapshot by her side providing a strong role model. He’s in it for the treats, but that’s o.k. After I give the command to sit, I give the command to stay. I step back and maintain eye contact while giving the hand signal for “stay”. Slapshot is an old pro with this command, and he sits still as a statue while never taking his gaze from me. Daisy watches me intently for about two seconds, but if there is a noise or movement nearby she has to look in that direction. She just has to, she can’t resist the urge. Again, not unlike my distractible kids. Yes, she wants the treat. But sometimes it’s not worth missing out on something else.

ADHD children have difficulty completing tasks. Once again, this is true of Daisy. What tasks could a dog have to do? How about eating her dinner? Slapshot is a big dog, and gobbles his food down as fast as his specially-designed-to-slow-him-down dish allows. Daisy, while not as large as Slapshot, is also a large dog who forgets to finish the food in the bowl right in front of her. While Slapshot greedily inhales his food, Daisy has trouble initiating and dawdles around her bowl. (Another executive function skill my children struggled with growing up – but never when it came to food!) After a minute or so, Daisy begins to eat. She is genuinely hungry, but will abandon her food for almost any competing stimuli. If she hears another dog barking outside, someone at the door, or even if I take a few steps away from her, she lifts her head and goes to where the action is – even if it means that Slapshot will try and finish her food once his is gone.

I’ve always said a label can be useful if it helps you find information and get support for what you are experiencing. I already live with three individuals with the ADHD diagnosis, so I am recognizing Daisy’s symptoms early on. Daisy is a delight, even if she still has to learn that being cute doesn’t cut it. My family members can be pretty delightful, too.

In addition to the scattered trash in my dining room, Daisy had pulled a box of dryer sheets off the shelf in my laundry room and had chewed up the box and scattered the sheets around the room. She did not ingest any, just spread them around. As we cleaned up the mess my son suddenly commented, “Hey! It smells pretty nice in here!” Immediately the other two ADHD individuals stopped what they were doing to take a moment to enjoy the fresh aroma caused by Daisy’s chewing and all agreed that the room smelled wonderful. Way to live in the moment, guys!

Slapshot and Daisy came back in the house once we had the mess cleared away. Daisy trotted up to me with her usual enthusiasm and toothy doggy grin. I bent over to pet her, and as she gazed lovingly up at me I realized that her typical doggy breath had been replaced by the lovely fabric softener scent of Clean Rain.

Never underestimate him!

My apologies for not posting yet this month. I have been battling the flu since February 1st and the germs seemed to be winning for awhile. I'm making a strong comeback now, though!
Do you have a child who has difficulty following novel directions? My son, Josh, has ADHD and auditory processing difficulties. He has significant learning challenges and struggles to remember what he hears. He has a tendency to take things literally, with sometimes interesting results. Other times he draws the wrong conclusion and inadvertently changes the expected outcome. For example, once I found a recipe that sounded interesting. You put all the ingredients for an omelet into a sealed ziploc bag and cook it in boiling water. I thought this would be great, especially for those of us who have picky eaters, because everyone could choose which ingredients to include. My husband and I could include onions in ours, but our daughter has not yet learned to appreciate onions so she could omit them from her omelet. I compiled a few different omelet variations into separate ziploc bags and made sure they were sealed tightly. I put the water on to boil, and went into the next room to work with my daughter on a computer assignment. Josh went into the kitchen and shouted to me that the water was boiling. I asked him to carefully put the bags into the boiling water for me and to use the tongs that were sitting on the counter. Using one of his strategies, Josh requested clarification that I wanted all the bags put into the water. I confirmed that and a few minutes later went to check on my omelets. Surprise! What I found looked more like egg drop soup than omelets. At first I thought the bags must have split open while they were boiling. Then I saw the emptied bags off to the side and realized that Josh had meticulously opened each one and poured the contents into the boiling water, thus defeating the attempt to keep the ingredients separate for different omelets. Josh saw the flabbergasted expression on my face and asked if something was wrong. I explained that when I had asked him to "Put the bags into the water" I meant the entire bags. Josh said he thought about it, but that idea didn't make sense to him and he had never seen me put any bags into boiling water so he decided he was supposed to just dump everything in. I thought I had been clear in my instructions, but I told Josh I would try to be more specific in the future. He grinned at me and said, "Never underestimate my incompetence, Mom!" I love that kid and his sense of humor.

Energetic, Impulsive, and Distractible

My daughter, Beckie, is an amazing girl. She has worked through most of her sensory processing and auditory processing difficulties. She is funny, kind, and is doing well at her part-time job teaching martial arts. Beckie also has a diagnosis of ADHD, combined type. Girls are less likely than boys to be considered hyperactive, but my Beckie has that component with a capital H. I love her energy! Even now that she is an older teen, her hyperactivity is still apparent. Beckie has learned strategies to help her focus over the years, and she knows ways to help burn up her excess energy. She teaches martial arts for several hours each week. She rides her bike or walks to neighborhood destinations. When she was younger, Beckie used to race cars from our house to the end of the block, running barefoot down the sidewalk just for the pure joy of it. At home these days she listens to music on her iPod and paces or runs through the house. Our first floor is structured in such a way that Beckie can basically run laps around it. Since we have hardwood floors, she can also get a running start and go for a nice slide across the floor. It's kind of hard on her socks, but that energy has to be expended somehow and the sliding across the floor is relatively tame. We laugh together about the time I asked her if her hair dryer had stopped working, because she was running around the house with her hair only halfway dried. Beckie explained to me that her long hair takes several minutes to dry and she had to take a break from the monotony of drying her hair so she could move around a bit. Her attention span is short, but intense. She studies very hard, but not for hours on end. After concentrating for a period of in-depth studying, Beckie tells me her brain needs to take a break and do something different for awhile. I'm actually glad that she recognizes what she needs and finds strategies that work for her. Is she distractible with a short attention span? Yes, but she can focus and sustain her attention when needed. Is she hyperactive? Absolutely, but her extra energy is often a plus. There are times when Beckie acts impulsively. For example, she walks into a room, sees me there, and grabs me for a hug. Sometimes she will spontaneously start giving me a back rub as she is going by, and it is the best 10-second back rub I've ever had! True, it only lasts a few seconds before she is on her way, but I do enjoy those brief moments. Beckie faces challenges from being so energetic, impulsive, and distractible. But it's not all bad. There's something wonderful about Beckie's ability to spontaneously show affection and respond with enthusiasm to so many different things. She is growing as the individual she is meant to be, without the burden of trying to completely change her natural inclinations.

Homeschool Flashback #2

The assignment was to write a story, using the words listed in the box. My children always preferred to come up with their own topics to write about, and being given a list of words was too limiting for them. My daughter clearly was not excited about this particular writing task. As do many students with ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), she wanted to complete the assignment quickly so she could move on to more engaging tasks. She fit as many of the words as she could into the fewest sentences possible. She didn't find a spot for one of the words in the box, but that didn't bother her since she wasn't interested in writing about those words in the first place. For the record, I am not the woman who was "scared of mice." In fact, over the years we have had a number of rodent pets including hamsters and mice. I have presided over a number of shoebox burials befitting a rodent. One time I couldn't come up with anything nice to say about Tommy, the misanthropic finger biter, who latched on to any hand with an evil mousy grimace. We had to wear thick gloves just to feed him and then we had to shake him off our hands when we were done. He leered menacingly all the time until I finally told the children to try to avoid looking him in the eye so he wouldn't give them nightmares. The other mice and hamsters were decent pets, and were eulogized appropriately. As for the rest of the story above, I do live with my husband and children. At the time of this brief essay, my children were still young enough to be losing baby teeth and it was an event to be celebrated when another tooth became loose and fell out. Last week, I had part of a lower molar break off. Loosing a tooth at this age is no longer exciting. In fact, it's downright disconcerting. I called my dentist at 8:00 a.m. the morning of Christmas Eve., since I was trying to be thoughtful and not disturb him when it happened the night before. I think I woke him up. I told him what had happened, and he didn't seem to think it was an emergency. I wasn't convinced, since it has been many years since I last lost a tooth and I didn't anticipate losing any more as an adult. I've had what's left of the tooth repaired, and was reassured that "sometimes with age these things happen." Sigh. This homeschool flashback could have an interesting twist if it were written today - the children and the Mom could each lose a tooth!