The Upside of the Downsides

Meltdowns.  My daughter experiences them.  Correction.  My family experiences them.  And it is quite apt that the terminology we use to describe her behavior at those moments evokes images of nuclear holocaust, explosions, panic.  I am not a nuclear physicist, so forgive my simplicity, but when nuclear plants experience a meltdown, they have the potential of emitting radioactive gases into the environment around them.  It harmfully affects anyone and anything that’s nearby.  This, too, makes the labeling of my daughter’s meltdowns appropriate. 

Our entire family experiences her meltdowns.  We have all been hit and bitten during these meltdowns.  We have all been the target of venomous hate-filled words.  We all must react and respond immediately when meltdown occurs.  It’s as if the radioactive messiness of her overwhelm has been emitted throughout our home and seeped into the walls.

And just like those working in and living near nuclear plants, we all maintain a watchful lookout for signs that a meltdown may be forthcoming.  All 5 of us have our own mental safety and security checklists that we run through daily in an effort to prevent a meltdown from occurring.

Meltdowns have drastically impacted our entire Fringy Family in a lot of unhelpful ways.  And, in full honesty, I would gladly live our life without them.  It hurts to see KBear so out of control and in pain.  It hurts to see Chimp afraid of his big sister.  It hurts to see Cub assaulted when he has the most tender soul I’ve had the honor of knowing.  It hurts to be hurt by my own daughter and it hurts to hear her verbally assault my husband.  There are a lot of downsides to this Fringy life.

And then a night like last night happens. 

I was solo parenting and putting the kiddos to bed.  KBear was definitely in the danger zone.  I was reading to Chimp when suddenly KBear completely flipped, started tearing things off his door, throwing things at his door, shouting threats, calling me by my first name (a sure sign that she’s in full meltdown), and generally melting down.  She had already shown that she was not going to be cooperative with attempts to reset, Chimp and I were locked in his room, Cub was locked in his room, so I took the approach to let it run its course while comforting Chimp.

When she managed to break into Cub’s room, I could no longer let it run its course.  I directed Chimp to stay in his room and went out to the hallway.  Cub was successfully pinning KBear to the ground in a safe and non-violent hold that he had learned at Aikido.  She was not being hurt, but had he let go, she would definitely have hurt him or me.  Despite the fact that KBear was writhing and trying to bite him and screaming mean things, Cub saw through the behavior.  He maintained his safety by keeping her pinned, but he also was saying calm, compassionate, loving words to his sister.  He had a calm and assured energy about himself and was trying to help his sister attain that same feeling of peace.

I took over the hold.  Kept taking deep breathes and we simply sat with her until she became calmer.  When she was safe enough to let her go, she was still in the danger zone and agitated, but not assaultive.  At that point, Chimp quietly, calmly, and slowly came out from his room.  He held a favorite funny toy of KBear’s.  He quietly set it in front of her, said “I love you” in a quiet voice and simply sat down by my side.  Far enough away from the potential threat of KBear, but close enough to share his own compassion for his sister.

Within a couple of minutes, the meltdown had passed.  KBear was calm and exhausted.  The 4 of us sat together sharing quiet jokes and then headed back to our typical bedtime routine.

Several years ago, shortly after KBear had been diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder and epilepsy, a friend of mine had asked me how it was going.  Then she said, “It must be really tough.  But, I’ve got to say, I’ve always admired families with a child with special needs.  They have a closeness to them that is different than more typical families.  They have a bond and a strength and a sense of teamwork that I envy.”

At the time, I thought, “Well, you’re welcome to swap families if you’d like!”  And there are still many, many moments when I would gladly trade it all in for just an afternoon of typical family fun. 

But, then there are the moments like last night.  When I looked around at my 3 children and was overflowing with pride.  I was amazed at the intuition of my 4 year old and the loving gentleness he could show his sister who mere moments earlier had been threatening to hurt him.  I overflowed with admiration for my 11 year old who has the maturity, steadiness, compassion, and wisdom of someone far older than him.  I was proud of my own growth through the past few years as my own reactions to the meltdowns have become steadier.  And I was inspired by my daughter, who just keeps persevering. 

So, sure.  I would still LOVE to experience a meltdown free week.  But, there are indeed some upsides to the downside.

I Don't Want My Kids to be High Achievers

Let me say that again:  I do NOT want my kids to be high achievers.  It is not a goal of mine and I don’t want it to be a goal of theirs.

So often the label “gifted”, “gt”, “talented”, “advanced potential”, “advanced learners”, etc, etc, comes with strings.  Sometimes these strings feel invisible, but oftentimes they are quite blatant.  Sometimes these strings are kind-hearted, but oftentimes they are vicious and misconstrued.  Sometimes these strings are meant to empower, but oftentimes they are meant to disenfranchise and disempower.  And no matter what the intent, I’ve rarely seen these strings be helpful.  In fact, more often I see children, youth, and adults of all ages crumble and suffocate as they become entangled with this one particular string.

At its essence, the most damaging string that’s attached to an identification of giftedness is one of performance.  People hear gifted and they assume high performing, high achieving, advanced.  They say things like, “You are so good at everything, you’re going to be tremendously successful” or “You’re so smart, everything must be so easy for you” or “You have the kind of brain that will one day find the cure for cancer” or “You’ve been given a tremendous gift, make sure you use it well” or “You owe the world to live up to your potential” or “You’re so smart, this shouldn’t be so difficult!” or “Well of course you got an A!”  This list could go on and on and on.  Many of these quotes have actually been said to people I know.  And I can unequivocally say, none of the people who heard these things found them to be helpful.

Believing that gifted has anything to do with performance has many damaging consequences.  I’m most concerned with the following two.

First, there are many, many, MANY gifted kids who are currently in school and are struggling.  They are bored.  They are unchallenged.  They are behavior problems.  They are hiding their giftedness.  Their outside of the box thinking doesn’t translate to high performance.  They definitely are not identified as gifted.  And so they are not given accommodations to challenge, feed, and modulate the joys and challenges of who they are and how they are wired to be.  When performance is tied to giftedness, we perpetuate a culture in which these kids will continue to slip through the cracks and not have their needs met.

Second, there are many, many, MANY gifted adults who are floundering under the pressure.  They’ve been hearing that they should be performing well.  They should have a very “successful” life.  They should be at the tops of their fields.  They should be solving homelessness and hunger or curing cancer.  Yikes!  That is an awful lot of pressure.  And when many of these gifted kids, youth, and adults have other intensities, that pressure becomes amplified and paralyzing.  Anxiety and existential depression find a home inside their minds and tear these people apart.  For many gifted individuals, by setting the expectation of high performance, we actually induce the opposite.  

So, no.  I do not want my kids to be high achieving.  I do not want them to have these intense expectations placed upon them.  I want them to be contented.  I want them to know who they are and follow what they are passionate about.  I want them to know that they can always change careers and vocations and locations and whatever else they’d like to change if they find life unfulfilling.  I want them to know that the weight of the world does not rest on their shoulders.  They are just as worthwhile if they choose to coach soccer down at the neighborhood community center as they are if they achieve a nobel prize.

I want my kids to know that it is perfectly fine to be ordinary.

I don’t care how they perform, so long as they are content and well.

And, see, here’s the irony.  If they are feeling content and well, they will naturally become high performers.  If we prioritize inner confidence, security, well-being, we are more willing to take risks.  And when we take risks to pursue our passions, we tend to pursue things we’re talented in.  And we tend to be filled with passion and enthusiasm.  And when those things are combined, we stretch higher, reach farther, and perform better.

Not that it matters.  ;)  

We Need Men

To be very clear, this post is not political.  The fact that the most recent misogynistic remarks between a certain presidential candidate and an entertainment talk show host prompted the writing of this post, has nothing to do with my political leanings.  This isn’t about conservative or liberal ideaologies.  This is about human decency and ethical behavior.

As a therapist, I work with countless ludicrously intelligent women who have hidden their intelligence for fear of intimidating others.  I work with brilliant women who have spent more time cultivating their physical appearance than their cognitive ability.  I work with women riddled with self-doubt and genuine lack of awareness of their own superior intelligence.

I work with women, teenagers, young adults, children who suffer from eating disorders.  Females who feel so disconnected from their bodies that they intentionally starve, over-exercise, binge, purge, in some false attempt to gain control, confidence, and security.  Females who hear a constant internal voice beating them up, dictating how much they should eat or not eat, imagining judgment from everyone around them, pointing out flaws (whether actual or simply perceived), imagining that worth is connected with how fat or thin they are.

I work with parents of middle school girls who have been told by middle school boys that they should be raped.  I work with middle school girls who feel they need to perform sexual acts or reveal parts of their bodies in order to be liked by boys.

I work with teens, young adults, and women who feel that the only way they can receive love, acceptance, intimacy with a male is to “give it up.”  They have sex with their husbands or boyfriends because they feel it’s their duty, whether they want to or not.  They are coerced into sexual acts as though their bodies do not belong to themselves.

I work with women who are in abusive relationships, but cannot define it as such.  I’ll ask if arguments have ever become physical and will be told, “No, not really.  Every once in a while he’ll push me, but he’s not abusive or anything.”

I work with young women who have been more traumatized by their family’s, friend’s, society’s response to their sexual assault than they were by the assault itself.  Being told they deserved it.  Being told they shouldn’t have dressed a certain way.  Being told they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Being told they shouldn’t talk to anyone about it.  They should feel ashamed.

And I am helpless. 

Yes, I can provide support to these amazing women.  I can help them find their strength and peace.  But, I cannot change the dynamics of our society which allows these things to continue.  I cannot guarantee my daughter will grow up in a world which values her for all of her and not just her body. 

Yes, Mr. Trump’s comments were disgusting.  But I’ve heard enough from him over the past 2 years that I expect nothing more or less from him.  I wasn’t shocked and so I wasn’t really all that upset with him. 

My real anger? My real disgust?  That belongs to the men who were listening, laughing, and egging him on.  Men who, perhaps, treat women with more respect, but allowed such degradation in their presence.  Men who didn’t stand up for the fact that objectifying women is what allows rape and domestic violence to continue.

Here’s the real conundrum:  I am female. 

I cannot make much of a difference in this culture of misogyny. 

I am powerless. 

Why?  Because the people who perpetuate this culture do not respect me.  They do not respect my voice.  And, therefore, it doesn’t matter how convincing of an argument I make, I am dismissed. 

I need men to be my voice.  My daughter needs men to stand up and tell other men that women are not to be objectified.  We need men and boys to change the dynamics of “locker room talk.”  We need good, honest, decent men to stand up to the few men who are assaultive, degrading, dismissive.  Women needed the men in that bus to put a stop to it.

And so, on behalf of myself, my daughter, and all the other women and girls, I ask that men grow intolerant to this type of “humor” and perversion.  I ask men to change the way women are viewed, respected, treated.  I ask men to change this culture.  Because we can’t.

Busy, Not Anxious

I don’t know how our world got to the place it is.  I have my theories, but really this post isn’t about how we got here, it’s more about how do we get out of here. 

And what is this “here” I’m speaking of? 

Our frantic, over-scheduled, constantly busy, anxious mindset. 

Maybe it isn’t grammatically correct to say “our mindset”.  After all, each of us individually is responsible for our very own mindset and perspective.  But I’ve run across the same lifestyle, the same frantic over-stressed pace from far too many people that I do honestly believe this is a communal anxiously busy mindset we’ve developed.

As a therapist and in my personal life, I’m a HUGE proponent of mindful living.  I’m regularly urging clients to simplify and I’m regularly trying to simplify my own life.  And yet, my family and I have gotten sucked into this ridiculous frenzy just like nearly everyone else.  And as I recognized that, I repeatedly would hear myself say things like, “I’m too busy”  “we need to cut something out”  “I don’t have enough hours in a day”  “How did we get here and how do we stop?!”  And then, thanks to my 11 year old and the wisdom of some more enlightened people than I, I had an epiphany.

It all began one day when I presented my 11 year old with his list of learning tasks.  As a homeschooler, he and I decide what he wants to learn about every few months and then, due to Cub’s request, I decide what topics we’ll focus on each day.  Every morning he opens up his notebook and sees the list of scheduled activities, chores, and learning topics.  This particular morning, he had 3 chores (animals, dishes, shower), 5 topics (history, spelling, physics, Japanese, flute) and Aikido.  Immediately he groaned and the all-too-familiar whine of discouragement began emanating from his mouth.

Apparently the list was too long, the chores were too overwhelming, and it’s all just too much.  Being a therapist, I of course (and probably far too frequently!), probed further.  To which I heard him talk about how his life is too scheduled, he has too much school work to do, it feels like we’re always running, etc, etc, etc.

As he spoke, I fantasized about sending him to public school while living on his cousin’s farm for a week.  “Too much to do!  Ha!  He has no idea what too much to do is!  He has no idea how good he has it!”  My mind ranted and raved for a while.  And then, I took a breath, and reinforced the seemingly eternal character development task of his pre-teen years.  “Cub.  It’s all about attitude.  How long does this stuff really take?  Do you enjoy it all?  Are there things you want to quit?  If not, then it’s about attitude.  Anything will be stressful if we decide it is.  Nearly anything can be peaceful if we decide it is.”

If I was a cartoon character a little light bulb would have popped on above my head.  Of course!  How can I expect my 11 year old to calmly face his schedule if I am modeling an attitude of anxiety and overwhelm?  Isn’t it possible to be busy, but not anxious?

Yes, we all need to be mindful of our commitments and the activities we sign ourselves and our kids up for.  But, we need to be even more mindful of our mindset.  We live in a world with a lot of information and opportunities at our fingertips.  This is excellent.  And we can set our minds to remember how excellent this is.  Or, we can set our minds to focus on the frenetic.  It is entirely up to us.

From nearly anyone’s perspective, Cub really didn’t have that busy of a week that week.  He had 2 scheduled hour long activities, approximately 30-45 minutes of daily chores, and approximately 3-4 hours of formal learning work each day.  Which means he had approximately 25 of his waking hours scheduled and 73 hours of free time, not counting 10 hours/night for sleep.  Yes, I do empathize that his understanding of busy and my understanding of busy are two different things.  And I really did try to provide empathetic support and understanding, but I also hope I conveyed to him that at the end of the day, the overwhelm was of his mind’s own making.  And, with work and practice, he can choose his mindset.

I can be busy and anxious, or I can be busy and calm.  Either way, being a married mom to 3 Fringy kids, a business owner, a writer, a speaker, a volunteer, I’m busy.  And I choose to be busy.  So why be anxious about it?  Over the past couple of months, every time I begin to feel the frenzy and overwhelm creep in, I try very hard to remind myself that I can be busy without being anxious.  I am telling you, with full hearted honesty, this has made a world of difference in my own well-being and my family’s well-being.  Make the choice.  It really is yours to make.  And by doing so, you’ll also be helping your children make the choice.  Be busy, not anxious.