A Weekend of Reality Checks

I went to my High School Reunion this past weekend. Although it was rather pricey, I am glad that I went. My best friend was my “date.” I took this as a serious event because I truly haven’t been out anywhere on the weekends for close to two years. This was my one exciting night to “live it up!” I had my nails manicured, my hair professionally done and even splurged on a fancy dress! After such a long time, it felt so good to be pampered and feel special. Especially when you consider that I usually walk around in “lounging” clothes that are 4 sizes too big for me, no make up, and my hair up in a hair clip. For one night, I truly wanted to feel like Cinderella! And Cinderella I was!

The reunion, however, ended up being a rather eye opening experience for me in many ways. I went to the reunion knowing that I would probably disclose to a handful of people that I was getting divorced. I was shocked to discover that about a handful of people already knew through reading my blogs!! None of these individuals had ever commented on anything I had ever written, so it was quite an overwhelming experience to discover that not only do they read them, they read them every week!! This was my first reality check: people actually read the stuff I write. I’m still dumbfounded.

My next reality check came about through speaking openly with a couple former classmates who disclosed that they were also having trouble with their marriages. Thankfully, they were seeking counseling.

I then ran into a woman who has quite a meek personality. She has three sons, all in their teens; the oldest being 17. This woman flat out told me that she gave up parenting her eldest child because he was such a challenge. She even stated that she couldn’t wait until he turned 18 because she was going to tell him to leave the house. In this same conversation, she was discussing how “delightful” her other two sons were and how they obeyed and never gave her a lick of trouble. I felt for her eldest son. It sounded as if he was completely misunderstood by his mother because he was “more difficult” than his two younger brothers. He sounded very much like my own tenacious son. I said a silent prayer that I have the knowledge and fortitude to not only understand my son so well, but to channel his “tenacious,” “challenging” strengths and establish limits on his occasional “over the top” behavior. I left our conversation feeling disappointed that this lovely woman will probably never have a strong, loving relationship with her eldest son. Deep in my heart, I know that I always will. Another reality check: I have finally learned how to parent my son effectively.

I then spoke with women who were dealing with the “Sandwich Gap.” These women were faced with not only raising their immediate families, but they had to deal with caring for their medically unstable or ailing, elderly parents. The women that I spoke with all lived several states away from their parents. Some had siblings who lived across the country. They all related how painfully difficult it was to do the very best for their parents but physically be so far away. I certainly know firsthand what they were all facing. I had to single-handedly take care of my stubborn, ailing, elderly father for approximately ten years. And once I had my son, the burden was so large, we ended up having him sell his house and live with us. He was heartbroken leaving his house. But I just could not drive two hours, round trip, with a baby, at least twice a week, to tend to my father’s medical needs. My father died four years ago living a somewhat completely independent life, watching his Grandson grow a little more each day, until he reached 89 years old. I am both thankful for that and thankful that I don’t have the added stress of caring for him at this rocky time in my life. Thank goodness for small (and large) miracles. Reality check: I thankfully am beyond the “Sandwich Gap” stage.

I then discovered that there are more Later Moms than I even realized. And I blog for a Later Mom website!! Even more interesting was the fact that many of their children were “only children” and non of the moms made a single comment about regretting that they couldn’t / didn’t have another child or that they felt “badly” that their child was an “only.” Instead, we all sat and discussed our children’s individual strengths, or in my case, some difficulties. We lamented about being “so damn tired!” all of the time. Mostly, though, we were just so thankful to have our children and be able to parent them with wisdom, more tolerance and, when necessary, a pinch of humor! I wanted to shout out, “bravo!” that the stigma I faced growing up as an “only child” was now fading away throughout society. Reality check: “Only” children are finally accepted by the world around them!

I left the reunion late, as a group of us were still reminiscing. I fell into bed remembering that my son had a birthday party to go to at a local park the next morning.

“Beep, beep, beep, beep...,” I heard as my son, the human alarm clock, woke me up at 7 am. I had less than 4 hours of sleep. He was excited to go to the party and didn’t want me to “oversleep.” If I had espresso in the house, I think I might have eaten it, I was so dead tired. I perked myself up with quite a bit of coffee. We dressed and I packed a bag with extra clothes, towels and a bathing suit as I knew there were sprinklers at this park. Off we went.

As we walked into the park and approached the party, I noticed a neighbor whose older son is in my son’s class. I hadn’t seen her in over a year. Little did I know, she would be my next reality check.

We sat down in the shade. She inquired about my son and his learning challenges. I gave her the latest update. I then said, “We should catch up more! I hardly see you any more!” Then the reality hit. She explained how her younger son was “severely” developmentally delayed in every category imaginable. He was receiving 25 hours of assorted therapies each week, from physical and occupational therapy all the way through speech therapy and other behavioral therapies. I was absolutely stunned. She said that the worst part was that her son did not display enough deficiencies in any individual, typical disability category, so he could not be officially diagnosed as Autistic, nor having Aspergers Syndrome, nor any other developmental behavior disorder. She explained that although she is able to get all of this therapy through Early Intervention, when he gets to grade school level, she doesn’t know how she is going to get services for her son if she doesn’t have a true diagnosis for him. I sat there with my jaw dropped open, utterly speechless. What struck me as quite odd was that she explained all of this with practically no display of emotion. She was almost too calm. As I watched my son, the social chairman, organize what the children at the party were going to do next, I said another blessing that although my child had learning difficulties, he eventually will overcome most of them. And the kid could make friends with a doorknob. Literally. Reality check: My son’s learning disabilities could be far worse. I feel blessed that they are manageable.

The last reality check of the weekend also occurred while at this party. I saw a mom I knew who had battled breast cancer in the past, but had been in remission for quite a while. As we began to talk, she disclosed to me that at her recent follow-up, they discovered that the breast cancer was back and “highly aggressive.” She began to tear up when she said, “I might not be alive to see my daughter turn 9!” This hit home the hardest. My own mother died of ovarian cancer when I was 19 years old, and my biggest fear in life is getting cancer as a divorced mom, with a young child. This woman had also gone through a very messy divorce recently. Reality check: Beyond self-explanatory.

After hearing all of these stories, each one even more devastating than the one before, I came to the conclusion that I should consider myself blessed. Yes, my divorce has devastated me almost irreparably, but I will go on with my life and have my precious son by my side. I’ve already been through dealing with an ailing, elderly parent. I don’t have to fit that stress into my already over-stressed life. Yes, my child has learning disabilities. But they are not affecting his sense of self-esteem and he can function in a mainstream classroom; at least up to this point. And he truly is an intelligent kid, learning disorders and all. He will be able to overcome his learning difficulties. And I am most blessed that even with my myriad of medical problems, none of them are life threatening and all are being managed very well with proper medications and routine follow-ups. I am eternally thankful for that.

Thus, my weekend of reality checks. I think I needed this splash of cold water on my face. Nobody’s life is perfect. And there are so many people that I know personally who are going through the same if not worse calamities in their lives. I consider myself blessed. And I pray for those whose lives are even worse than mine. You can never foresee what life has waiting around the corner for you.

“Talking Terrier”...and Other Conversations

I’ve had my dog, Max, for over 13 years. When you’ve known anything that long, you can pretty much “read their mind.” Max and I have our own ways of communicating. His moans, whines, woofs and barks all mean something different. My son is constantly asking me, “Mommy? What is Maxi saying?” I will tell him what I assume Maxi wants. My son will then ask, “How do you know what he wants?” I tell him that I’m “Talking Terrier,” (Maxi is a Terrier breed). My son has been constantly intrigued.

From age eight months until approximately four years ago, my son and I took American Sign Language (ASL) classes together. We unfortunately stopped taking (ASL) classes due to scheduling difficulties. Up until then, though, we were both getting more proficient in communicating with each other via sign language. In fact, starting next school year, my son’s school is offering American Sign Language as an option to take in learning a second language. I’m enrolling him in the class immediately. Especially with all of his reading and writing issues. It can only help him with his communication skills later in life, if necessary.

Somewhat incidentally, my son has both remembered and has been asking me how to sign various things in American Sign Language lately. I like this for a variety of reasons. My son has Auditory Processing Disorder. One of the fundamental techniques in helping those with this disorder is eye contact. Coincidentally, one of the key actions needed to communicate using ASL is to engage in eye contact when signing. ASL forces eye contact so that the person you are signing to can interpret what you are saying. My son needs to engage in eye contact more, even when speaking verbally. If he gets in the habit of engaging in eye contact, whether via ASL or verbal communication, it will ultimately stimulate his neurochemical imbalance to “reorganize” itself. His verbal communication is guaranteed to improve.

Another “type” of communication has also emerged throughout this past year with my son. My son seems to have matured exponentially. I can almost visualize the hormonal surges washing over his brain. We have had so many mature conversations; I sometimes have to tone down what I say so that my choice of vocabulary is not completely “over his head.” His thought process is mind-boggling. And I don’t think it is because he is a smart kid. I think it has to do with other factors.

One of those is that my son is an only child. Only children are unique in that they spend a large part of their time either communicating with or listening to adult conversations. This helps them develop more sophisticated vocabulary and converse in a more mature way. One example I have is that I referred to my son as “tenacious,” and told him that it meant that he doesn’t give up. He keeps on working until something is finished. He has continued to remember that word and it’s meaning from months ago.

Another example was when he was at karate this past week. The word of the week was “integrity.” Putting aside the fact that my son cannot read the word integrity, I wanted him to try to understand what the word meant and to internalize it. I asked him if he knew what the word “integrity” meant. He said, “I have to go ask Sensei.” His Sensei gave him a watered-down version of the real definition. The Sensei said that it meant to be honest. He is correct, but “integrity” is much more than that and way more complex. While my son was questioning what his Sensei’s definition was, I took out my iPhone dictionary App and looked up the actual definition. The actual definition is:

Integrity: adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty

Yeah...try explaining that to an almost 8 year-old. So when my son came back from speaking with his Sensei, and said me that “integrity” meant “honesty,” I told him that his Sensei was correct, but that the true definition meant much, much more. I explained that it means being the best person you can possibly be, both to yourself and with others, and that honesty was an important part of that. We drove home having this whole discussion about all of the times he felt he displayed integrity. I swore I felt like I was having a conversation with an “almost adult.” You practically have to shake the cobwebs out of your head to grasp the complexity of these conversations sometimes.

I know my son is bright, but I am also aware that there are other influences in school that he has picked up in his learning. He relates well to his teachers and tutors because they are adults. And I very often speak to my son as an “almost adult.” He is used to engaging in more mature conversations. Part of me, though, wishes he would just slow down and talk about “kid stuff” with me. I feel as if he is rushing himself through his youth. Then, again, I, as an only child, never felt “out of place” speaking maturely with other adults. My difficulty was relating to my peers. That was mostly due to the fact that my parents never went out of their way to socialize me with other children. I was somewhat sequestered. I enrolled my son in Mommy and Me classes as early as 3 months old most likely because of that! I was determined to make sure those classes helped to socialize him! And helped it has! My son has been taking age appropriate classes, continuously, of his choice, throughout all of these years. I surmise that coupled with his extraordinary social nature, this kid has absolutely no fear of socializing with his peers! I truly think he has the best of both worlds. Although he still needs a little practice “Talking Terrier!” But that will come with time...I’d give it another year!

I’m so Verklempt! - By Cara Potapshyn Meyers

Definition: Verklempt - a Yiddish expression of being overcome with emotion.

Living in the outskirts of New York City, and in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, I hear this Yiddish expression quite often. I believe it was even used in a Seinfeld episode once to explain Elaine’s overwhelmed state of mind! I, too, am verklempt! There really is no better word to use to explain this complex feeling. A mixture of anxiety, feeling overwhelmed, maxed out of your energy, bordering almost at feeling unable to cope. That’s Verklempt!

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the upcoming changes summer would bring. Particularly the ending of school and beginning of day camp for my son. Well, I dug out and through the pool bags. Tossed the old sunscreens, bug sprays, etc., restocked with fresh supplies. Dragged out the old, ratty towels and wrote my son’s name on them with black, permanent laundry marker. I found his camp shirts from previous years and was thrilled that the small ones just fit! I even bought these great stick on clothing labels to put into every item my son needs to take to camp. Here I was, thinking I was way ahead of the game until today, the first day of camp. Now I am verklempt with emotion thinking of all that still needs to be done! Starting with a fresh load of laundry!

My son came home with a soggy backpack filled with his wet towel and soaking wet bathing suits. Uh oh...forgot to send in plastic bags to put the wet items in. Oh well, no harm done. I’m sure the backpack will dry out by tomorrow morning. Then, as I was tossing my son’s wet bathing suit and SPF shirt into the washing machine, I realized that although I have enough bathing suits to get my son through a full week, I do not have enough SPF shirts!! I bought the only ones my son will wear (due to his sensory disorder) at a greatly reduced price, at the end of the season last year, but only purchased a few. I need at least 10. And at the peak of the season, this brand of SPF shirts are outrageous in price. They are seamless...they have no seams at all. It is the seams that bother my son to the point where he will just rip the shirt off and not bother to apply sunscreen on his exposed skin. So do I risk my husband’s wrath and shell out the money to buy shirts I know my son will wear? Or do I buy less expensive shirts, have them worn once and then tossed aside, only to be given away to someone else? Oy, I’m so verklempt!

Then we come to socks. Again, with my son’s sensory issues, he will only wear socks from one particular store. I have gone to 3 of these stores and looked on their internet site, only to find out that they are completely sold out of every color except black in my son’s size. My son has to wear a blue shirt to camp every day...couldn’t they have at least had blue? No blue at all. Only black. So I bought several pairs of black hoping others would think they were very dark blue. Oy vey.

Our next issue is my son’s upcoming birthday party in about a month. I still have to address and send out the invitations. I bought some of the party supplies. But the biggest issue is regarding one friend my son wants to invite. My son adores this friend. My husband loathes this kid due to some past indiscretions. My son has been begging my husband to invite this friend. My husband is literally threatening me with legal action if I invite this kid. Aghhhhh!!! Verklempt, verklempt, verklempt!!! Where is Calgon when you need it to take you away??

And, of course, why don’t we top it off with my son’s “birthday wish list.” I must admit, my son has very good taste. However, every item on my son’s list costs at least $50!! I tried to gently explain to my son that most people cannot afford to spend that amount of money on a birthday gift. It’s not sinking in. My creative son has come up with 100 different ways that guests can chip in and buy my son what he wants. I tried to explain that you can’t “tell” guests how to go about giving you the gifts you want. Guests make their own choices and you just have to hope to get what you want...or at least close to it. My son is just not “getting” it. He is “hyperfocused”(see last week’s blog for definition) on what he wants and only what he wants!!!! I’m so verklempt!!!

Since none of these things is a major catastrophe, only a miscellany of inconvenience, I think a dose of perceptiveness is really all I need. I mostly went through my son’s closet and replaced the heavy clothes for the lighter ones. I’m packing up my son’s second grade work and boxing it up to look through in the future. The one thing I haven’t quiet gotten to fully is my own closet. The cashmeres are still mixed among the sleeveless cotton shirts. But I did identify many items to give away. I also purchased some new summer clothing that will actually fit, so progress is being made.

I think I just need to sit down to a nice, cold iced coffee and bagel with just a shmear of cream cheese. That oughta do the trick!

Discovering a Piece of the Puzzle

It has been a while since I updated our readers on my still pending divorce. I found, by happenstance, a very interesting piece of information that may help me to understand the “I don’t know,” I’ve always received as an answer when I asked my husband why he doesn’t even want to try to work on mending our family. I think I found the answer. Or, at least part of the answer.

Months ago, I chalked up his, “I don’t know,” responses as him just being, “not that into you.” I believe I even wrote a blog about it. Yet, it still weighed heavily on my mind because I just couldn’t understand how you could love someone with all your heart for 20 years, and then just, “not be into you.” It made absolutely no sense at all to me.

I was asked to write a short article on ADD/ADHD children and their relationships with their Grandparents. Interestingly, I found four fairly decent articles, but I continued my search to see whether I could unearth something additional to refer to. I came across an article that had absolutely nothing to do with ADD children and their Grandparents, but the title of the article struck me. I tried to move on but couldn’t. This article was begging to be read.

The title of the article was, “I’m OK - You’re Not!” written by Melissa Orlov from Additude Magazine. Very fitting title for my circumstance. I was already aware of Ms. Orlov’s interest in ADHD, as I purchased one of the books she had written, but never read. I quickly skimmed the introduction, paying more attention to the main categories. Halfway through the article, I stopped in my tracks. The title of this category was, “The Hyperfocus Courtship.” For those of you who are unaware of hyperfocusing in an ADD/ADHD person, the individual’s brain chemistry continues to keep firing until a certain task is completed. Thus, the person gives 100% attention to that task until the person is satisfied with the outcome. I have seen it many times with my son. If he hyperfocuses on schoolwork, that’s very positive. If he comes to me at 9:30pm and wants me to help him write a “book,” this is undesirable hyperfocusing because my son needs to go to bed. It is pointless to argue with a hyperfocusing person. You just elicit more power struggles. So I just said, “Mommy is tired and has to go to bed. Please consider trying to work on your project tomorrow morning.” He fell asleep on his “book” at 11:30pm. He actually brought about his own consequence. He was very tired the next day. This is just an example of an ADD person hyperfocusing on a task or project. I never knew that a person could hyperfocus on a relationship, though. Here is where Ms. Orlov’s words hit home:

“The biggest shock to ADHD relationships comes with the transition from courtship to marriage. Typically, a person with ADHD hyperfocuses on his partner in the early stages of a relationship. He makes her feel she is the center of his world. When the hyperfocus stops, the relationship changes dramatically.” The center of his world. How many times had I said those exact words to my therapists when describing my early relationship with my husband? The center of his world. I read her words over and over. Ms. Orlov hit the nail right on the head...mine to be exact! I was stunned by this revelation, but it also made so much sense. I needed to pass it by my therapy professionals to get their perspectives.

My ADD therapist thought that I found my answer. She said, when a partner’s hyperfocus shuts off, the non-ADHD spouse is left bewildered. And if counseling isn’t sought immediately, the relationship is almost assuredly doomed. I asked her whether my husband’s hyperfocus of me could have lasted so many years. She replied that it was not common, but it could certainly be found. She told me she felt that I was probably the very unfortunate victim of a hyperfocusing partner whose brain chemicals just stopped firing. That is probably why my husband “doesn’t know” why he doesn’t want a relationship with me. He is in denial that he even has ADHD, so he wouldn’t know of nor understand his hyperfocusing of me and now the lack of it. The other therapy professionals agreed.

So there you have it. I am a victim of ADHD hyperfocus burnout. I suppose it is not much different than having been in a relationship with a partner who was in denial about their manic/depressive disorder or alcoholism or other myriad psychological disorders. I am in just an extremely unfortunate circumstance.

The good news is for my son. He already has an ADD diagnosis. He will learn coping strategies and techniques to work through and around his hyperfocus episodes. He will be able to identify when he hyperfocuses. He will have me to guide him through his younger years and help him figure out what to do in various situations. And because I know all of the tell-tail signs, I can gently discuss them with him and coach him through. With a blessing and a kiss, I pray he never finds himself or his family in the situation we are currently facing. Once is more than enough.

Time for Transitioning

It’s almost the end of the school year. Summer will officially be here in a week. It is time to get ready for “transitioning.”

To me, “transitioning” means making changes, both good and also a little burdensome. One thing I adore about summer is the longer days. Casual weekends. Less structure. Freedom to just “be.”

It also means a break from the stress of my son’s school and after school schedule. A break from the stress of homework and finding non-threatening ways to encourage getting the homework done. A break from the frantic race to get my son to school on time. A break from the seemingly unending “mundane.”

But with sending our son to day camp come some additional “burdens.” Instead of daily homework will be almost daily laundry. Lots of stain remover. Remembering to pack certain camp items on certain days. Sunscreen, ad nauseum. Bug spray and anti-itch remedies that actually work. And no after camp activities. Perhaps a dunk in our local pool, instead, which certainly is not a burden, especially on wickedly hot days!

I’m not sure I’m quite ready for this transitioning. I AM ready for my son to finish Second Grade. I gladly welcome the break from the insane homework. But I think I need a little vacation between school ending and day camp starting the very next week. The forms that need to be filled out. Medical forms as well. Making sure that I have at least 10 bathing suits because my son needs to take 2 to camp each day. I am desperately hoping that my son will still fit into some of the camp shirts we “accumulated” last year. Otherwise, the one camp shirt they provide for the campers needs to be washed e v e r y   s i n g l e   d a y.

I also need to transition the trunk of my car. Every summer I restock my first aid kit. I make sure I have plenty of water resistant bags to collect impromptu wet clothing from swimming excursions or water fights at a friend’s house. It also means going through the bag of clothes I keep in my trunk and take out the fall/winter/outgrown clothes and replace them with some summer items, including shoes, crocs and a rain jacket. And towels. You never know when you need extra towels.

Speaking of towels, I have surrendered sending my son to camp with expensive, colorful, monogrammed beach towels. For three years in a row now, I have had these nice towels “taken” from my son, never to be seen again. With my son’s full name monogrammed on them! In BOLD block letters! Two inches in height!! This year the nice beach towels go to the beach or the pool. Instead, my son is going to camp with old, ratty, light color towels with his name boldly printed on each side with a black laundry marker. If anyone wants them, they can have them. They were almost ready to become rags anyway.

Summer also means having to go through my and my son’s summer clothing to see what still fits and what can be given away. It also means filling our closets with the summer wear and putting our bulkier clothing into drawers or other closets. Same with shoes and coats. Right now I have in my closet cashmere sweaters mixed in with sleeveless tops. What’s wrong with this picture? I also buy clothing for my son “off season.” There’s only one problem. I often forget that I bought him certain items at greatly reduced prices, shove them in the “to grow into” drawer, and pull out 3 of the same item come next season. Which is not an entirely a waste because the “doubles” can be used for the car bags come the end of summer.

Finally, there are the “pool bags.” Expired sunscreens and insect repellants need to be tossed and replenished. Goggles and sunglasses for my son need to be checked to make sure they still fit. Various sundries need to be gone through and updated. Even the pool bags need to be inspected for overuse. I almost feel like I have to remember to replenish diaper bags after an outing!

All this transitioning for 10 weeks of summer.

But ain’t it grand?!

All About “No”

I had the pleasure of attending another lecture by Lisa Levine-Bernstein, MSN, RN, FNP, at one of our local Long Island Chapter, Motherhood Later, Meet-Up dinners a few weeks ago. The topic being discussed was, “How to Say ‘No’ to Your Child.” I unknowingly started our discussion by asking Lisa why she had chosen a parenting decision she made, at the previous Meet-Up lecture she gave. The issue was about saying “No” to her teenage daughter who wanted to get a tattoo. Lisa’s decision was to provide her sixteen-year-old with medical risks related to getting a tattoo and having her daughter ponder whether she might not like the tattoo in 10 years. Lisa also discussed with her daughter choosing a less conspicuous location for the tattoo, should it be visible to prospective employers or even graduate school interviewers. Lisa then said she told her daughter that on her 18th birthday, when she was legally an adult, her daughter could decide whether she still wanted the tattoo or not. When she turned 18, Lisa’s daughter ran to get a tattoo.

Since that first lecture with Lisa, I agreed with every parenting strategy Lisa discussed (I read too many parenting books). However, I don’t think I would have done what Lisa did, in making her daughter wait 2 years to get a tattoo. Knowing my son, who sounds very similar in personality to Lisa’s daughter, I would have presented all of the risks involved, including taking him to a dermatologist’s office to learn how painful and difficult getting a tattoo removed would be, get advice from other sources who were more knowledgeable about tattoos than me, then let him decide if he still really wanted one. If he did, I would set limits on size, design and location, but I ultimately would let him have one. I know my son well enough to know that if I made him wait 2 years, at the stroke of midnight on his 18th birthday, he would get one. And it would be the biggest, most obnoxious and conspicuous tattoo you have ever laid eyes on. But that’s my son and that’s his personality. Lisa said that there was nothing wrong with my parenting decision, especially when you know your child as well as I do.

This lecture emphasized much more. At one point, Lisa asked how many mothers had been told by their child that their child hated them. I was the only one who hadn’t ever had my child tell me he hated me. I also explained why. When my son is angry with me, for whatever reason, I “beat him to the punch.” While he is still enraged, but before he can lash out at me, I say to him, “I know you are really mad at Mommy right now...and that’s okay. But I made my decision for a good reason and I am still going to say no.” By doing this, it let’s my son off the hook emotionally by being allowed to “hate me,” if he wants. It’s a little difficult to tell someone you hate her when they’ve already taken your words from you. I’ve also found that this technique diffuses a heated confrontation considerably. My child lives for initiating power struggles. I’ve learned (finally!) how to nip it in the bud before it escalates. Thank goodness I found something that works. I went through too many years of almost daily torments. Lisa liked how I handled my “challenging” child.

Lisa gave us suggestions of how to say, “No” effectively:

Make “No” a positive. Example: “You can have your treat just as soon as we finish eating dinner,” or “Of course you can watch TV...just as soon as you put your toys away.” This way, the “no” is really coming across as a “yes,” as long as the child complies.

Towards the end of the lecture, I made a suggestion that Lisa loved. If you have a child who gets easily sidetracked (like mine) and forgets to brush his teeth in the morning or doesn’t bring home all of the required books for school to do homework each day, I came up with a visual plan. I took pictures of my son doing his morning routine of getting dressed, washing face, combing hair, brushing teeth, and put them on a piece of poster board. This way my son could visually see what he needed to do next and eliminate his “sidetracking.” I did the same with his books for school. He had to make sure that he brought home different books, plus his folder, on different days. I took photos of each book and his folder and printed out mini pictures of these books. I made a Monday - Friday chart of the books my son needed for each day, glued the pictures to the page, and made multiple copies of that one page to stick in my son’s folder. He would check the chart as he was packing up for the day, and we rarely had to worry that something he needed to do his homework with was forgotten at school. Thus, no need to say, “no” to TV or using the computer as a consequence for forgetting his school items.

Everyone’s child is unique and incredible in his or her own way. Lisa said to seek out this “good” in your child to build up your child’s sense of self-esteem. Rather than say to your child, “You did a great job!” specify what the child did that made that job so great! Did they hit the ball so hard that they made a home run? Did they do a near perfect dive off the diving board? Did they choose colors for Legos that you probably would never have thought to combine, but looked terrific together as your child’s “work of art?" Praise them for these specific things. This way, when you do have to say “no,” your child will understand that you are being fair in dishing out that “no” because you also recognize when they also do some amazing things. But don’t overdo it. Use this technique modestly and appropriately. Let them get a sense that, “nobody is perfect.”

Finally, Lisa discussed the most important part of saying “no.” Don’t be wishy-washy and don’t give in. Once your child sees that you can stand your ground, but also realizes that you can recognize their achievements, they will test you less and power struggles will dissipate. Sometimes “no” is “no.” End of story. But it’s also okay to say to your child, “I need time to think about my decision. I will get back to you.” You know your child best. Pick and choose the “no” strategies that you think will work for your child. And if one technique doesn’t work, try another. After all, one size does not fit all.

If you would like to speak with Lisa directly or send her a question via e-mail:

Contact Lisa Levine-Bernstein, MSN, RN, FNP. E-mail: Parentingsuccessfulchildren@juno.com or by phone at (516) 423 - 9918.

And if you live on Long Island or NYC, come join us for a nice Mom’s Night Out, when posted! We all learn so much from the speakers and among ourselves! And we deserve our own night out!

“Seriously Embarrassing”

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog about how I saw a maturity in my 7/almost 8 year-old son. Somewhat a kin to a 13 year-old. Well, now I am absolutely convinced that my son is a 13 year old in a 7/almost 8-year-old body! Here’s why.

It began a couple weeks ago when he overheard some older kids at the park discussing which sleep-away camps they would be going to this summer. My son immediately approached my husband and me about going to sleep away camp this year. Considering that we already paid for the day camp he will be attending and that he hasn’t quite turned 8 years old yet, we had our reservations. Then an interesting opportunity presented itself.

The sleep away camp my husband went to when he was younger was offering “Parent Weekend” for both currently enrolled campers as well as perspective campers. My son could go for a three-day weekend with his father. He could choose to bunk with some boys at the camp or sleep in a tent with his Dad. He would participate in activities strictly for campers that weekend. “Family” activities would be offered as well. It would not only be the perfect weekend for my son to “test the water” regarding sleep away camp. It would also be on his birthday weekend - an added treat! We signed my son up with the promise that, yes, he would still have a birthday party!

Next, about a week later, I was driving my son to the store and he asked, “Mommy? Can I put the car in “park?” Knowing that I would press the emergency brake with my foot immediately upon stopping the car, I obliged. I then thought, “Next year, he’s going to want to drive this thing.” He also informed me that President Obama passed a law that stated children must be 10 years old before they can sit in the passenger seat of a car. He has also been asking numerous questions about driving and the “Rules of the Road.” Since I plan to eventually be the one who will teach my son to drive (I am a far better driver than my husband, no matter what he may think), I have been taking many opportunities to discuss and point out good versus not as good drivers. I also have to be careful of my own driving habits and speed because my “back seat driver” will point out every minor infraction I may make.

Finally, I absolutely knew that my son was “13” when, as we were driving to our local pool this past weekend. My son asked, “Mommy? When we get to the pool, can you just call me ‘Brandon’?” I knew that this day would come eventually, but not when my son was 7/almost 8! I responded to him, “You don’t want me to refer to you as ‘Sweetie’ or ‘Sweetie Pie’ or even ‘Honey’.” He nodded as I looked at him in my rear view mirror. Then he added, “And Mommy? When you pick me up from school, can you also just call me ‘Brandon’?” I promised that I would, with a small smile on my face. Then I asked, “My special names I call you embarrass you in front of your friends, huh?” He responded that they did. But he immediately followed his affirmation by specifying, “But that’s only for when we’re out, Mommy! If we are home or in the car, you can call me all those other things. It’s just that when we’re with my friends, it’s seriously embarrassing when you use those other names.” Seriously embarrassing. I expected my son to say something like this to me when he was at least 10 years old or older. But not at 7/almost 8! I chuckled to myself and thought, next year he’s going to want me to drop him off a block before where he may want to go!

Seriously embarrassing. Yes, my little boy is no longer “little.” Although I may embarrass him, he still wants me to be his “real” Mommy when we are alone. But I better keep my promise to only call him by name when we’re out! We made a “pinky promise” on it!