Not our best day.
Emily wanted me to put her hair up in a big bun today. However, I’m not good with elaborate upswept designs like that, and we only have two bobby pins. So I told her I didn’t think I could do it, and she got upset. We finally settled on two small buns, down lower, and I told her they were probably going to come undone. And that if they DID come undone, it was okay. And it was okay if she lost the bobby pins. And I could fix it later. And she needed to stay calm and not get upset. She said she wouldn’t get upset. Of course, she always says that. When I dropped her at Nature Museum camp, I told her counselor if her hair fell out or she lost the pins, it was fine. (Note, I never used the phrase “if your hair falls out” to my very literal daughter. I can just imagine the concern that would produce.)
As I predicted, her hair fell, and she got upset. I don’t know how upset. Not upset enough for them to call me, at least, so that’s something. When I came to pick her up, she’d been crying. I also can’t make out whether she is or is not enjoying the camp. It’s very frustrating.
I’m really worried about her ability to cope with third grade next year. Scratch that, next month. I’m at a loss as to how to get her to stay calm and take these things in stride. If one little thing goes wrong, her world falls apart. She’s better than she used to be with the obsessiveness, but it can still overtake her very quickly, and then it’s tough for her to hold it together. Every adult’s first instinct is to try to comfort her and help her get it together, but that really just seems to make it worse.
I feel like I’m not doing enough, but I also don’t know what else I can do. I hate writing stuff like this, because my parents read this journal and I know it makes them sad, but I still have to say it. Sorry, Mom and Dad. I wouldn’t trade her for anything, but it’s still hard. Such, I suppose, is life.
I’m still quite worn out from the trip. Maybe if I’m able to get more sleep, things will seem better.
Is she good at remembering things you tell her, or recalling past events when someone doesn’t prompt her?
I run into this problem myself sometimes. I think you have a good start there, but she’s still probably at a more uncertain stage. Do you know what upsets her about this? Is it just that what she had hoped for didn’t work as long as she would have liked, or that her hair is “messy”?
I’m wondering if she would feel better if she had, like, a scrunchie or something so she could just put her hair back neatly. so in this situation, and therefore other situations, maybe she can respond by doing something else/replacing it to get her mind off of the disappointment instead of just sitting there. Learning to do things herself, for one, and focusing on something else as well.
I guess the other thing you can reinforce with her, which you may have been doing, is to say, “Remember when this happened before? I know you were worried about it, and I know you were upset when it happened, but did anything bad really happen? Nobody made fun of you; nobody was mad at you; your hair [or whatever else] didn’t get tangled. Things were easy to fix, and you/your counselor/your grandma fixed it quickly. IT WAS OKAY.”
Same goes for anticipating an event: if you anticipate it and fret about it all the way up until the time it happens, it’ll be worse (even if nothing bad happens). So if she starts to fret, maybe get her mind onto something else, or reinforce how it doesn’t matter, blah blah blah (which it sounds like you were doing).
I know it’s hard to get that into her (read: my) head, but eventually it starts sinking in.
Is she good at remembering things you tell her, or recalling past events when someone doesn’t prompt her?
I run into this problem myself sometimes. I think you have a good start there, but she’s still probably at a more uncertain stage. Do you know what upsets her about this? Is it just that what she had hoped for didn’t work as long as she would have liked, or that her hair is “messy”?
I’m wondering if she would feel better if she had, like, a scrunchie or something so she could just put her hair back neatly. so in this situation, and therefore other situations, maybe she can respond by doing something else/replacing it to get her mind off of the disappointment instead of just sitting there. Learning to do things herself, for one, and focusing on something else as well.
I guess the other thing you can reinforce with her, which you may have been doing, is to say, “Remember when this happened before? I know you were worried about it, and I know you were upset when it happened, but did anything bad really happen? Nobody made fun of you; nobody was mad at you; your hair [or whatever else] didn’t get tangled. Things were easy to fix, and you/your counselor/your grandma fixed it quickly. IT WAS OKAY.”
Same goes for anticipating an event: if you anticipate it and fret about it all the way up until the time it happens, it’ll be worse (even if nothing bad happens). So if she starts to fret, maybe get her mind onto something else, or reinforce how it doesn’t matter, blah blah blah (which it sounds like you were doing).
I know it’s hard to get that into her (read: my) head, but eventually it starts sinking in.
Having spent a good bit of time enjoying the same rides in this wacky amusement park we call life … I think its important for the parents in scenarios like this to also be reminded that its okay for them to need collection moments too.
That’s what I sometimes call the buffer zone mine needs for dealing with unexpected things. It isn’t that he isn’t capable of coping with change – he just doesn’t have the skills developed for coping with things at the rapid rate of the world around him. I spent a good bit of time teaching him strategies for taking collection moments for himself and always made sure to instruct his teachers on this coping mechanism.
Over the years he has needed fewer and fewer of these moments – but the skill is still there to be called on when necessary. The downside of this is that when combined with his size the pauses for processing often cause him to be judged by others as being “typical stupid hulk” … when actually he has a very intelligent philosophers soul.
But anyway … collection moments are processing pauses and they are a free pass. When something happens that is alarming or unexpected anyone – not just the child in question – can put up their hands and say I need a moment. They can breathe, be quiet, think, pace, retreat … there are lots of different mannerisms that help people take a moment to organize their thoughts. We all do it, its just that most of us take for granted our ability to do it on the fly, often in a matter of moments. But sometimes we all need to be reminded that its okay when something upsets us.
::hugs:: It is perfectly okay and normal to have the worries and fears you have. They won’t ever truly go away. I wish I had better news than that. But they don’t. To worry and want things to be better for our children is the lot of every loving parent out there. I find myself worrying just as much over my “normal” children as I do my special needs ones. It isn’t their differences that make our lives challenging – it is how much we love them that does that for us.
Your fears, worries and frustrations are badges of honor that say here stands one hell of a mama.
For us, the more comfortable he became knowing he could draw on collection moments anytime and anywhere … it was sort of like him having an invisible social security blanket.
Having spent a good bit of time enjoying the same rides in this wacky amusement park we call life … I think its important for the parents in scenarios like this to also be reminded that its okay for them to need collection moments too.
That’s what I sometimes call the buffer zone mine needs for dealing with unexpected things. It isn’t that he isn’t capable of coping with change – he just doesn’t have the skills developed for coping with things at the rapid rate of the world around him. I spent a good bit of time teaching him strategies for taking collection moments for himself and always made sure to instruct his teachers on this coping mechanism.
Over the years he has needed fewer and fewer of these moments – but the skill is still there to be called on when necessary. The downside of this is that when combined with his size the pauses for processing often cause him to be judged by others as being “typical stupid hulk” … when actually he has a very intelligent philosophers soul.
But anyway … collection moments are processing pauses and they are a free pass. When something happens that is alarming or unexpected anyone – not just the child in question – can put up their hands and say I need a moment. They can breathe, be quiet, think, pace, retreat … there are lots of different mannerisms that help people take a moment to organize their thoughts. We all do it, its just that most of us take for granted our ability to do it on the fly, often in a matter of moments. But sometimes we all need to be reminded that its okay when something upsets us.
::hugs:: It is perfectly okay and normal to have the worries and fears you have. They won’t ever truly go away. I wish I had better news than that. But they don’t. To worry and want things to be better for our children is the lot of every loving parent out there. I find myself worrying just as much over my “normal” children as I do my special needs ones. It isn’t their differences that make our lives challenging – it is how much we love them that does that for us.
Your fears, worries and frustrations are badges of honor that say here stands one hell of a mama.
For us, the more comfortable he became knowing he could draw on collection moments anytime and anywhere … it was sort of like him having an invisible social security blanket.
I wouldn’t trade her for anything, but it’s still hard.
That’s it exactly.
We got the baby some chicken nuggets at dinner the other night and they were dinosaur shaped, so I held one up and said “dinosaur” — and Philip utterly and completely lost it for a good 5-10 minutes. Then he noticed his pizza had come and everything was fine for the rest of the evening. It’s baffling and frustrating and yet he’s the most wonderful little guy. Even more than first grade next month, though, I’m dreading the month from now until then, with no more summer school. We’ve got a bunch of other things planned, but none of them are school. And he asks to go to school every day.
I wouldn’t trade her for anything, but it’s still hard.
That’s it exactly.
We got the baby some chicken nuggets at dinner the other night and they were dinosaur shaped, so I held one up and said “dinosaur” — and Philip utterly and completely lost it for a good 5-10 minutes. Then he noticed his pizza had come and everything was fine for the rest of the evening. It’s baffling and frustrating and yet he’s the most wonderful little guy. Even more than first grade next month, though, I’m dreading the month from now until then, with no more summer school. We’ve got a bunch of other things planned, but none of them are school. And he asks to go to school every day.
worrying
It can really ache sometimes – Becoming a parent means that your heart will forever more be walking around outside your body – vulnerable.
-Laura
worrying
It can really ache sometimes – Becoming a parent means that your heart will forever more be walking around outside your body – vulnerable.
-Laura
Hugs (a few days late).
Hugs (a few days late).