Embracing her differences
Sometimes I surprise myself with the thoughts that run across my mind. I think I embrace Chee’s neurodiversity, but then I have a random thought that stops me cold and reminds me that I’m not yet where I want to be, where we all should be, when it comes to respecting differences.
I find it easier to love and accept differences in other people’s kids than my own. Perhaps because I’m not as vested in others’ kids. Reluctantly, I admit I find it harder to be as accepting of my own child. Don’t get me wrong, I do love, embrace and cherish her. Every aspect of her. Parts of her that are atypical, however, it’s not as easy for me to be all blasé about how great they are. Sometimes I find myself wishing she’d just be like other kids. Normal kids. I don’t really feel that way. Just sometimes I think it - sometimes for just a minute or two, sometimes longer. Mostly they are fleeting thoughts.
A couple of things this week have given cause for those thoughts to zip around my head. The thoughts have been fleeting. I don’t ruminate and feel sorry for myself and wish I had a different child. Not at all.
I’ve written before that Chee is Hyperlexic (take an early reading ability and mix it with a language disorder along with a splash of sensory processing disorder and you’ve got Hyperlexia). There’s not a ton of literature on Hyperlexia, but what’s out there is pretty good and offers excellent suggestions on how to communicate better with your Hyperlexic child using her reading skill.
Again, I’m reluctant to admit this, but sometimes I avoid trying something new with Chee. If this new and different thing works, then it reaffirms (again) that she is different. I know she’s different but sometimes I feel like I’m looking for her to overcome her difference.
This line of thinking, no matter how fleeting, needs to stop. When I do try a new recommended communication approach with her -it’s generally met with pretty darn good success. To wish against that, to wish that she would just learn “normally” like “everyone else” is plain foolishness. There is no normal in learning. Everyone has their own style.
Chee’s style is that she learns really well from reading. She gets the written word moreso than the spoken word, particularly if she’s upset.
Often when she wants something she’ll ask for it in a whiny tone and then continuously whine louder and louder. When she’s doing this, I can’t seem to get through to her. If I raise my voice to get her attention, she gets louder. If I ignore her, she persists and will get completely worked up.
Her SLP and OT both recommended that I write down Stop Whining (or whatever it is I want her to do) to see if that helps her process it. For several weeks I’ve not done that because I keep thinking she should be able to hear me and stop whining without me having to write it down. The thought running through my head that that’s the normal way to process and understand.
Today, I gave it a try. She was whining about wanting her toy school bus (that I had taken away from both her and Ess because they were fighting over it). She started in, I want bus! I want bus! I want bus! And immediately goes into flapping her hands and bouncing up and down, super dramatic about getting that bus off the top of the fridge.
So I handed her the following note.
Use your big girl voice. Ask nicely.
She immediately ceased whining while she read it silently to herself.
Then, Mommy, can I have the bus now, please? as polite as can be.
Stop fighting it, woman. She doesn’t listen well. She does read well. Yin and yang.
My new mantra: Embrace the difference. Celebrate it.
I can’t believe there’s even one parent of a child with challenges that doesn’t wish for their child to be “normal”. That doesn’t mean you love the child any less, and there are often aspects of the challenge itself that you like.
Given a choice, though, what parent would want their child to have additional challenges over and above the everyday challenges of growing up to be a man or woman in our current world?
I think every parent wants their child to overcome adversity, whether it be a developmental challenge or poverty or getting along on the playground.
What’s important is not that you have these thoughts, but that you recognize them and move on to do what’s best for Chee and Ess.
The 45th word in your post (I didn’t count myself, I let Word do it) is “should.”
That’s a very difficult word to apply to most parenting/childhood situations. There are lots and lots of books out there, true, but no one rule book for you and your kids. There’s no right way to feel about your kids - love, sure, but that takes on a lot of different forms and meanings, sometimes changing from moment to moment.
Why shouldn’t you wish for an easier, simpler, normal life once in a while? I’m grateful every day that my kids are technically normal, especially when I see so many who are not. I wish that my sister could simply lay down her struggles and run, leap, fly into a simpler life. I even wish that I could have normal hearing, less accident-proneness, whatever. That wishing? *That* is normal.
The trick is not to regret or waste time trying to strive for the impossible - which I think you do an admirable job of.
The other trick is to let go of the guilt. You didn’t somehow cause Chee’s Cheeness, any more than you caused it to snow here today (and if you did, we need to have a sit-down discussion, because that was just mean). A mix of genetics and fate and environment and randomness all came together to hand you and C some extra challenges, and it’s neither fair nor unfair - just life.
Great mantra!
Totally get this. In moments like this my mind tries to convince myself that I’m somehow helping Ben; that there are certain lessons that he’ll need to learn despite his differences, foremost among them being that as the parent I AM ALWAYS RIGHT.
But on my better days I remember that if if he’s going to learn to cope on his own (i.e. when Christa and I aren’t around), we all need to learn first what coping looks like. And that means trying out the strategies that play to his strengths (or work to sidestep his difficulties).
We’ve now almost entirely eliminated Time Outs, because we’ve learned that if Ben can “take a break” before his emotions spin out of control, he can stabilize himself. Now he’s starting to ask for breaks all by himself, because he’s learned that it helps him.
Yeah, it gets exhausting always trying these new ideas. Because as soon as you find one that works you have to come up with ways to not have it become its own pattern of being stuck. Or something else changes. Sigh.
But I’ve seen other parents experience the same kinds of frustrations simply navigating the growth and changes of “normal” kids (and teens).
We’re not alone in this.
To piggyback on Chris’ comment - yes, I’ve seen the same frustration in parents of typical kids when they are at their wit’s end asking, “Why don’t they GET IT?” Perhaps all parents feel a bit powerless when it comes to shaping our kids’ behavior.
The thing about our situation that can be kind of unique, I think, is that by having an atypical child, we are learning to pay attention in ways that other parents aren’t encouraged to do.
The example in your post of the cards are a great example. We tend to search for (and be open to) the special key that will unlock this or that behavior or pattern, whereas I think parents of typical kids are led to believe (falsely, perhaps) that everything is just supposed to fall into place naturally.
Like you, I wish it were easy. It’s not. But what you’re doing is working and many parents of “normal” kids wish they could say that!
I need to try those cards with the messages on them with Ben. Great idea!
I feel like I can completely relate to your post in a way. We are trying the gfcf diet, and for about a week, we seemed to be all about improvement. I was thrilled. But I would be lying if I tried to deny the piece of me that went, “Oh, no.” For one thing, I felt guilty it took us so long to try it, but for another, I thought, so this just proves everything, and now how on earth are we going to keep THIS up?
Your perspective is wise and your kids are lucky to have you.
I understand where you’re coming from - as delightful as our children are, and as much as we value who they are, sometimes it just seems as though it would be EASIER if they were NT. The things we fight with, battle on, try to handle, just can seem overwhelming. But then I remind myself we didn’t have to teach them to READ, and for me that sounds FAR harder than helping them deal with the noise from the vacuum cleaner.
The note is a darn good idea. I’ll bet it just distracts her from whatever behavior you want to stop. I think I’ll have to try that one. I LOVE new ideas! THANKS!
Darcy