Doing My Parenting Homework
When you get a diagnosis of any serious kind for your child it's like registering for a life-long class for which you are going to need a lot of money, coping materials, reading materials, and an exhausting list of homework assignments. My class begins now. I can ignore the diagnosis, of course, and hobble along with my broken situation and insist I don't need help like lots of people do, in order to avoid the responsibility inherent in knowing and embracing what ails my child. However, even from a purely selfish standpoint, this accomplishes nothing for anyone and will, in fact, hurt me just as much as my child to ignore his needs.
So I lugged the kid to the library today against his will (most things we do that require leaving the house are against his will) and took with me the book recommendations our psychologist gave us. I found one of the books on my list but will have to wait my turn for the other one. I also found a couple of extra credit books on the subject of ADD. While I was flipping through the books I caught pieces of stories and little whiffs of flavor most peculiar to a life lived with people who have ADD. It was strange how familiar and reassuring even these small bits were to read.
I am new to the diagnosis part of my son's life, but not new to the problem he's been diagnosed with. From the moment the kid was born I knew we had someone quite different from our other friend's babies and kids. It was like he came out of the womb at full throttle; completely aware of everything around him and intensely interested in how things might pan out in this new strongly lit cold world. People used to remark on how he seemed to be assessing everything when most babies were lallygagging in a warm milk-fuzzed haze of not-quite-focused interest.
I would like to share my first piece of advice to others who are just embarking on the diagnosis end of this experience:
Only compare your parenting experiences with other parents who have children with the same diagnosis.
Let me repeat that:
Don't let other parents make you feel like an ass-wipe.
For eight years I have felt like a total shit parent because my kid doesn't respond the same way to things as other kids do. I have allowed myself to be weighted down by the expectations that other parents of normal kids have of me and mine and it has resulted in some pretty poor parenting self esteem. Very few people have purposely done anything to make me feel bad. People have been insensitive through ignorance and through the assumption that all kids are essentially the same.
The times I have felt the best about my parenting experience is when I have been able to hang out with my few friends who have sons with the same issues as mine. Those parents have a very deep and true understanding of the challenges that I face.
The other piece of advice I would like to give to anyone who feels that they are not having the normal parenting experience:
Get a diagnosis.
Getting a diagnosis has already helped free me (to a certain extent) from other people's expectations and other people's opinions about the way I parent. It has given me the power to recognize officially that I am not parenting your average child and that the general rules do not apply.
If I had known this when I went to that positive parenting class I took when my kid was two years old, I wouldn't have left the class feeling like the world's worst mom. I wouldn't have felt like everyone thinks I have a devil-child. I wouldn't have felt so alien and alone in my parenting experience. That class served to show me that whatever it's like for most people to parent, however challenging it is for the average parent to do their job, mine was three times as hard and I wish I had not felt that it was my failing back then.
I have often said that my one child is like having three kids in one. I think, from what little of my parenting homework I have done so far, that this is going to turn out to be an apt simile to use to explain how hard it is to parent a child with ADD. Add to this that my kid with ADD is not the most extreme case of it and I think it is safe to say that if you don't have a kid with this disorder then you have no idea what my life is like.
There are a million opportunities arising every day to help point out how non-standard my experience is and how I'm not having the same experience that most of my friends are. The opportunity to feel like an ass-wipe of a parent presents itself on Facebook, on blogs, during play dates, out in public, on Twitter, in family Christmas letters. Everyone is going to be so much better than you are. Everyone's kids are going to make your unusual one stand out and at first it's going to feel bitter. I've felt a lot of bitterness over the years.
The food thing is perhaps my worst sore spot. Because it is so close to a mother's emotional center: feeding your child is the most important thing a mother does initially. And inability to feed your child well signals a failure in the mother or in the child. Everyone notices and judges. But even when people aren't judging I feel the sting of my shortcomings. Friends talk about their kids going through a "picky" phase and what they end up meaning is their kid won't eat broccoli this week. They have no idea how much it hurts to hear them describe a couple of food preferences as "picky" when mine will sometimes only eat snow.*
Now that I am on the road to getting help for Max and am armed with a diagnosis I feel less scabby every time some other mother complains about their kid behaving poorly and realizing that that's my kid on his best day. I am feeling more capable of stepping aside without bitterness and saying to myself "They just don't know. And it's alright.". Sometimes I even feel pride that I am able to parent my bright but very pointy star of a child without developing an acute case of Trichotillomania which I am convinced that most people I know with normal kids would do if they had to parent one like mine.
It may not be much, but it makes me feel better; to know that I am doing the best that I can in a tough parenting situation. It makes me hopeful that as we get deeper into actual therapy we will see more improvements both in Max's comfort and behaviors as well as in our ability to parent with less pain and exhaustion.
I have a stack of books to read. My homework to do. In case you didn't know it, I am an excellent student.
I think it's important to say, every single day, that I love my son. I love him so much and Philip and I look at him and wonder how we were lucky enough to get such a fabulously individual child who has no problem at all trying to stretch the very shape and boundary of the universe itself.
*Sadly, there are days when this feels like only a mild exaggeration.
So I lugged the kid to the library today against his will (most things we do that require leaving the house are against his will) and took with me the book recommendations our psychologist gave us. I found one of the books on my list but will have to wait my turn for the other one. I also found a couple of extra credit books on the subject of ADD. While I was flipping through the books I caught pieces of stories and little whiffs of flavor most peculiar to a life lived with people who have ADD. It was strange how familiar and reassuring even these small bits were to read.
I am new to the diagnosis part of my son's life, but not new to the problem he's been diagnosed with. From the moment the kid was born I knew we had someone quite different from our other friend's babies and kids. It was like he came out of the womb at full throttle; completely aware of everything around him and intensely interested in how things might pan out in this new strongly lit cold world. People used to remark on how he seemed to be assessing everything when most babies were lallygagging in a warm milk-fuzzed haze of not-quite-focused interest.
I would like to share my first piece of advice to others who are just embarking on the diagnosis end of this experience:
Only compare your parenting experiences with other parents who have children with the same diagnosis.
Let me repeat that:
Don't let other parents make you feel like an ass-wipe.
For eight years I have felt like a total shit parent because my kid doesn't respond the same way to things as other kids do. I have allowed myself to be weighted down by the expectations that other parents of normal kids have of me and mine and it has resulted in some pretty poor parenting self esteem. Very few people have purposely done anything to make me feel bad. People have been insensitive through ignorance and through the assumption that all kids are essentially the same.
The times I have felt the best about my parenting experience is when I have been able to hang out with my few friends who have sons with the same issues as mine. Those parents have a very deep and true understanding of the challenges that I face.
The other piece of advice I would like to give to anyone who feels that they are not having the normal parenting experience:
Get a diagnosis.
Getting a diagnosis has already helped free me (to a certain extent) from other people's expectations and other people's opinions about the way I parent. It has given me the power to recognize officially that I am not parenting your average child and that the general rules do not apply.
If I had known this when I went to that positive parenting class I took when my kid was two years old, I wouldn't have left the class feeling like the world's worst mom. I wouldn't have felt like everyone thinks I have a devil-child. I wouldn't have felt so alien and alone in my parenting experience. That class served to show me that whatever it's like for most people to parent, however challenging it is for the average parent to do their job, mine was three times as hard and I wish I had not felt that it was my failing back then.
I have often said that my one child is like having three kids in one. I think, from what little of my parenting homework I have done so far, that this is going to turn out to be an apt simile to use to explain how hard it is to parent a child with ADD. Add to this that my kid with ADD is not the most extreme case of it and I think it is safe to say that if you don't have a kid with this disorder then you have no idea what my life is like.
There are a million opportunities arising every day to help point out how non-standard my experience is and how I'm not having the same experience that most of my friends are. The opportunity to feel like an ass-wipe of a parent presents itself on Facebook, on blogs, during play dates, out in public, on Twitter, in family Christmas letters. Everyone is going to be so much better than you are. Everyone's kids are going to make your unusual one stand out and at first it's going to feel bitter. I've felt a lot of bitterness over the years.
The food thing is perhaps my worst sore spot. Because it is so close to a mother's emotional center: feeding your child is the most important thing a mother does initially. And inability to feed your child well signals a failure in the mother or in the child. Everyone notices and judges. But even when people aren't judging I feel the sting of my shortcomings. Friends talk about their kids going through a "picky" phase and what they end up meaning is their kid won't eat broccoli this week. They have no idea how much it hurts to hear them describe a couple of food preferences as "picky" when mine will sometimes only eat snow.*
Now that I am on the road to getting help for Max and am armed with a diagnosis I feel less scabby every time some other mother complains about their kid behaving poorly and realizing that that's my kid on his best day. I am feeling more capable of stepping aside without bitterness and saying to myself "They just don't know. And it's alright.". Sometimes I even feel pride that I am able to parent my bright but very pointy star of a child without developing an acute case of Trichotillomania which I am convinced that most people I know with normal kids would do if they had to parent one like mine.
It may not be much, but it makes me feel better; to know that I am doing the best that I can in a tough parenting situation. It makes me hopeful that as we get deeper into actual therapy we will see more improvements both in Max's comfort and behaviors as well as in our ability to parent with less pain and exhaustion.
I have a stack of books to read. My homework to do. In case you didn't know it, I am an excellent student.
I think it's important to say, every single day, that I love my son. I love him so much and Philip and I look at him and wonder how we were lucky enough to get such a fabulously individual child who has no problem at all trying to stretch the very shape and boundary of the universe itself.
*Sadly, there are days when this feels like only a mild exaggeration.
Comments (11)
Brava!
Posted by Aimee | March 25, 2009 7:01 AM
Posted on March 25, 2009 07:01
I'm sorry that it is so difficult. I can sympathize - I don't have an ADD child, but my ADD adult often feels like a child and it tends to make one very bitter towards others experiences with their spouses also.
Even though he is a pretty extreme case of adult ADD, he has never has food issues. As a child, he was often not hungry at regularly scheduled mealtimes because of the meds (amphetamines will do that you), but will eat most anything. My friend E is another extreme case and she does not have food issues either. I am not trying to dismiss your son's food issues at all - the point being, that ADD/ADHD and other disorders can be highly individual as well.
Posted by Jade | March 25, 2009 7:40 AM
Posted on March 25, 2009 07:40
Very true of most disorders. However, I have to say that the only kids I've met with ADD/ADHD did have serious food issues just like Max so I took a great deal of comfort there hanging out with their moms who know what I go through.
Of course there may be many people with ADD/ADHD who don't have all the same issues as my kid but the commonalities are very binding. Food issues are not Max's only issues, that just happens to be the one I've gotten the most criticism about from others because it's so visible and it's the one I've been the most emotional about because it is a constant all day every single day non-stop challenge to feed my kid.
I'll bet you and I would find our spouses have many of the same issues and find a lot of shared frustrations. We are pretty certain that my husband also has ADD and it would explain so very much that I have found especially challenging in my marriage. I am simply lucky that my own mental illness has given me the understanding to be patient with his and he has been very patient with mine.
Posted by angelina | March 25, 2009 7:59 AM
Posted on March 25, 2009 07:59
You know, there have been many times in my son's life when I'd feel a gentle reminder from the universe that he was given to me specifically because I would show him the kindness and consideration that other parents could not, and instead of dismissing him at each turn, I embraced him for how fabulous he was. I see you as a beautiful embracer of all that is good for Max. I always found myself protecting Alex, not physically but emotionally and not from kids as much as from their parents, their parents who expected stepford acting kids and were relentless in their verbal assaults. It wasn't long before I stopped participating in playdates and activities that I knew would only lead to scorn and condemnation. And honestly, Alex was so much happier hanging out at home doing his own thing. I don't know why our generation thought playdates were necessary anyway, its just a glorified adult meet up in my opinion. Angelina, you are doing incredible things with the relationship with your son. You are his warrior right now and he looks to you for protection. You are giving yourself to your child right now because he needs you in this fight. Because you and I both know it feels like a knock down, drag out fight, yes? Yes! And the judgment from other parents can be brutal but I found a comfort in knowing that I was doing the right thing, they were wrong and that I never wanted to be like them...that kept me going. Also, what I soon discovered when Alex was very young was that spirited children make incredible adults who feel and see more than the average ever imagined. I didn't have anything to base it on at the time but I knew it in my heart. However, it won't always be this daunting. As Max grows, slowly what was your responsibility will evolve to him. And as he grows older, each year brings a little more independence from you, whether that is being able to play by himself a little more or reading a book in his chair while you read yours. Always know that when you are feeling like its more than you can carry and you can't find your way, that I am here. Whether it be to offer you words of comfort and encouragement or to listen without offering words and I'm always, always open to any questions because my little village is your little village. xo
Posted by Kathy | March 25, 2009 9:58 AM
Posted on March 25, 2009 09:58
Kathy- you are such a wonderful support! You know I will not hesitate to lean on you or ask you questions. Hearing about your own experience parenting a kid with this disorder is reassuring. And thank you for having such confidence in me!
Posted by angelina | March 25, 2009 12:25 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 12:25
Mama of almost 20 yo different kid, ADD...
You have eloquently described some of my otherness feelings.
Where some people were talking about which college their kid was going to, I was worried about much more immediate things.
I don't have a lot of time right now but let me say, I'm honored to accompany you on this journey.
Posted by Anonymous | March 25, 2009 5:37 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 17:37
This is me, above. Sorry I posted anon, Didn't mean to...
Posted by Robin | March 25, 2009 5:41 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 17:41
It is so easy for people to make judgments about other's children's behavior without having the full knowledge and history. I admit I've done it myself. (see a child throwing a fit in a grocery store and assume they are spoiled and ill-behaved rather than being a special need).
Thanks for opening our eyes, Angelina and gently reminding me to be a little more aware and courteous.
Posted by karmyn R | March 25, 2009 8:16 PM
Posted on March 25, 2009 20:16
the most challenging thing about life with the S.O. is the criticism that he (and we as a couple) receives from other people, including his parents, my mom, friends, etc. this makes having a support system incredibly difficult. it also really hurts to see him hurt. i would guess you can relate to that feeling.
the fact that his condition (ADD) aggravates mine (anxiety) also does not help matters.
Posted by Jade | March 26, 2009 7:48 AM
Posted on March 26, 2009 07:48
Jade- I totally relate to that. Not only about Max being hurt by others but also about my spouse's (and my kid's) issues being hard on my own issues. You and I both have the mega anxiety. Of course yours might be exacerbated by entirely different things than mine, but that it is aggravated by our close people's disorders we share in common.
Finding support feels pretty important. I've had some good support from friends but until recently not from family. My family is really stepping up to the plate these days, especially my mom and sister, so that's been helping quite a lot.
I'm here to talk to. But I feel that's a kind of poor offering. You need someone closer to you to lean on. But still, I like you coming here to share because it makes me feel less alone.
Posted by angelina | March 26, 2009 8:09 AM
Posted on March 26, 2009 08:09
Whenever I'm pulled into the comparison game I always come out feeling disoriented. I know it's been a rough 8 years for you. I hope now that you have the diagnosis in hand, that you have professional third-party affirmation, that you will be able to extricate yourself from the comparisons.
People will still make them but I hope you will be stronger at shrugging them off. They don't know what they're talking about. I take this post (and others like it) as evidence that you are rewiring your responses to different, more positive, patterns.
People will always say mean things, either unwittingly because they don't know the situation, or purposefully because it makes them feel bigger to put other people down. You can't always avoid these people but you can go forward with your life with the confidence that their opinions don't count for a grain of salt.
Posted by mss @ Zanthan Gardens | March 27, 2009 6:31 AM
Posted on March 27, 2009 06:31