This week, I've been reading The Highly Sensitive Child by Elaine N. Aron and it has been a real eye opener. I have always considered myself over sensitive. I struggle with things that others seem to find so easy such as navigating train stations, or even buying things from a shop. I've felt my sensitivity has held me back, and it was with sadness if not surprise when I quickly realised that Alice had similar tendencies.
From the first time I saw her it soon became obvious that she was a child of extremes. If anything was slightly amiss, she would scream. There was never any middle ground. The upside of this is that she also gets extremely happy, joyful and excited over the smallest things. It's lovely, but can be exhausting. On two occasions, loud noises have made her faint with shock, she can't stand doors being left ajar, and takes against clothes with certain textures or colours. Upsets can quickly escalate into quite terrifying meltdowns where she tries to hurt both herself and me. Being so sensitive clearly makes her very unhappy at times.
I easily rattle off the 'problem areas' that her sensitivity has caused. Many of them I recognise in myself! What has amazed me through reading this book however is how many of her strengths come as a result of being so sensitive. She's starting to show empathy, and gain a sense of social fairness. She's deeply passionate and persistent with tasks. She notices and delighted by the tiniest details. It has taken this book to show me that high sensitivity has its benefits as well as disadvantages. As I embrace and value my daughter's sensitivity, I am also coming to respect my own.
For any other highly sensitive people, or parents of highly sensitive children, I whole heartedly recommend this book!
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Monday, 23 May 2011
Nappy Free
It's been a couple of weeks since Alice wore her last nappy, so I'm pretty confident that she's now 'potty trained,' except there wasn't any real training involved.
I've had numerous comments about how early it is to be out of nappies at 20 months, but in reality the process has been pretty extended. I first came across Elimination Communication when Alice was a few months old, and I already felt I'd missed the boat. I couldn't recognise any of her cues to eliminate, and I thought it would be too much like hard (and messy) work to start. At 11 months, Alice was suffering from bad nappy rash which seemed to be caused by teething. As it healed, I tried to give her as much nappy free time as possible. It didn't take long for her to get interested in her eliminations. I noticed that she would do a little wee, crawl to another place and squeeze hard to wee again. It made me realise that she had more control of her bladder than I thought. Without any real expectations, I sat her on the potty, and we were both delighted when she did a wee inside!
Around the same time, she started making it clear when she was about to pooh. I began sitting her on the potty to catch these, and within a short time discovered that she would hold on until her nappy was off before poohing. It certainly made my washing load easier! Over the next ten months, she usually wore a nappy. I'd sit her on the toilet or potty after naps.
At 20 months old, she started removing her nappy, and showing more interest in the potty. She began to say 'big pooh!' and 'wee wee!' before she eliminated, and I thought we'd try going nappy free at home. There were many accidents, especially if I wasn't paying attention. One morning, I was in the kitchen and heard the sound of splashing. I ran in, muslin in hand to wipe up the puddle only to find Alice sitting on the potty. This was the first time she'd got there herself. That was a majot turning point, and the accidents virtually stopped. Alice chose some 'big girl pants' and wore them while we were out. After a few wet trouser incidents, she suddenly was dry and I began to feel more relaxed about taking her out nappy free.
Although I hadn't planned to cut out night nappies, believing that would be a step too far, Alice led the way by removing her nappy and sleeping until the morning without wetting.
Our transition from nappies to pants has been a very long and gentle one, and it has given me great faith in allowing your child to take the lead. In line with the way we choose to raise her, she's never been praised for eliminating on the potty or toilet. We've done no reward charts or stickers. I've just tried to follow her cues. I realise that this is a thoroughly self indulgent post, as our experience is unique. I'm certainly not holding it up as a method for others to emulate. It was a process that worked well for us as a family, and more importantly, it responded to Alice's needs as she developed. In my mind, that's the most important thing.
I've had numerous comments about how early it is to be out of nappies at 20 months, but in reality the process has been pretty extended. I first came across Elimination Communication when Alice was a few months old, and I already felt I'd missed the boat. I couldn't recognise any of her cues to eliminate, and I thought it would be too much like hard (and messy) work to start. At 11 months, Alice was suffering from bad nappy rash which seemed to be caused by teething. As it healed, I tried to give her as much nappy free time as possible. It didn't take long for her to get interested in her eliminations. I noticed that she would do a little wee, crawl to another place and squeeze hard to wee again. It made me realise that she had more control of her bladder than I thought. Without any real expectations, I sat her on the potty, and we were both delighted when she did a wee inside!
Around the same time, she started making it clear when she was about to pooh. I began sitting her on the potty to catch these, and within a short time discovered that she would hold on until her nappy was off before poohing. It certainly made my washing load easier! Over the next ten months, she usually wore a nappy. I'd sit her on the toilet or potty after naps.
At 20 months old, she started removing her nappy, and showing more interest in the potty. She began to say 'big pooh!' and 'wee wee!' before she eliminated, and I thought we'd try going nappy free at home. There were many accidents, especially if I wasn't paying attention. One morning, I was in the kitchen and heard the sound of splashing. I ran in, muslin in hand to wipe up the puddle only to find Alice sitting on the potty. This was the first time she'd got there herself. That was a majot turning point, and the accidents virtually stopped. Alice chose some 'big girl pants' and wore them while we were out. After a few wet trouser incidents, she suddenly was dry and I began to feel more relaxed about taking her out nappy free.
Although I hadn't planned to cut out night nappies, believing that would be a step too far, Alice led the way by removing her nappy and sleeping until the morning without wetting.
Our transition from nappies to pants has been a very long and gentle one, and it has given me great faith in allowing your child to take the lead. In line with the way we choose to raise her, she's never been praised for eliminating on the potty or toilet. We've done no reward charts or stickers. I've just tried to follow her cues. I realise that this is a thoroughly self indulgent post, as our experience is unique. I'm certainly not holding it up as a method for others to emulate. It was a process that worked well for us as a family, and more importantly, it responded to Alice's needs as she developed. In my mind, that's the most important thing.
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Again?
A few weeks ago, I read Simplicity Parenting by Kim John Payne and found myself challenged by a number of ideas. As the title suggests, the book encourages parents to simplify their family lives, limiting possessions and establishing a daily, weekly and yearly rhythm. I was already on board with keeping a limit on toys, and tried to ensure that the ones available to Alice were open ended to encourage her to use her imagination. What threw me was that the author recommended limiting the number of books available too. Initially, I was dismissive. As a child, there was nothing I loved more than to read or be read to. I always had a few books on the go at once, and would disappear for hours as soon as I got home from the library. Echoes of my teacher training also returned to me, reminding me of how important it is to have a rich and varied reading environment. Clearly 'simplifying' Alice's already plentiful collection of books wasn't for me.
A few days later I was reading with Alice. Cuddled up together, we reached the final page. I closed the book. Then, in the grand toddler tradition, my little girl looked at me and said "Again?" This was far from the first occasion this has happened. At any one time, there are always two or three books that she adores and will listen to as many times as I have patience to read. For a week or two, she'll obsess about them. Snippets of their plots will pop up in her conversation and several times she has mentioned favourite phrases in her sleep. I found this pretty wearing. She had so many books to choose from, why bring me the same ones? To my shame, I ended up trying to hide some books when I became fed up of reading them. Suddenly, the wisdom of reducing available books made sense. The richness and quality of a child's exposure to books isn't down to how many they are read. Becoming totally familiar and involved with a story is of far greater importance. Repetition puts a small child at ease and they are able to process the words, pictures, intonation and associated feelings far more than if they read a new book every day.
I have decided to take the same attitude to books that I do with toys. I will be ruthless with those that do nothing to inspire the imagination, and keep only those that are good quality stories. Out of that collection, I will store some out of sight to act as our own mini library, leaving just a few for Alice to choose from at any one time. Although I thought this would involve consigning myself to literary boredom, I'm surprised at how much I enjoy rereading the stories. It is amazing at how a well written and illustrated children's book has more to offer than it at first appears. Through learning to take my daughter's lead, we're both finding the benefit of saying "Again?"
A few days later I was reading with Alice. Cuddled up together, we reached the final page. I closed the book. Then, in the grand toddler tradition, my little girl looked at me and said "Again?" This was far from the first occasion this has happened. At any one time, there are always two or three books that she adores and will listen to as many times as I have patience to read. For a week or two, she'll obsess about them. Snippets of their plots will pop up in her conversation and several times she has mentioned favourite phrases in her sleep. I found this pretty wearing. She had so many books to choose from, why bring me the same ones? To my shame, I ended up trying to hide some books when I became fed up of reading them. Suddenly, the wisdom of reducing available books made sense. The richness and quality of a child's exposure to books isn't down to how many they are read. Becoming totally familiar and involved with a story is of far greater importance. Repetition puts a small child at ease and they are able to process the words, pictures, intonation and associated feelings far more than if they read a new book every day.
I have decided to take the same attitude to books that I do with toys. I will be ruthless with those that do nothing to inspire the imagination, and keep only those that are good quality stories. Out of that collection, I will store some out of sight to act as our own mini library, leaving just a few for Alice to choose from at any one time. Although I thought this would involve consigning myself to literary boredom, I'm surprised at how much I enjoy rereading the stories. It is amazing at how a well written and illustrated children's book has more to offer than it at first appears. Through learning to take my daughter's lead, we're both finding the benefit of saying "Again?"
Friday, 6 May 2011
Controlling anger
Lately, my gentle parenting aspirations have taken a bit of a battering. Alice has traded in her meltdowns for less spectacular, but more prolonged whining. Unfortunately for us both, this presses all my buttons, and I find myself frequently snapping and shouting. What follows then, is by no means a perfect solution. I'm quite clearly no expert when it comes to anger management, but I find some of the ideas below are helping me, and making my angry outbursts less common.
The key to preventing toddler meltdowns is making sure your child is well fed and rested. Difficult as it sometimes is, make sure you do the same for yourself. It's worth the investment. Think about when you're at your most volatile. For me, this is the afternoon when Alice is often whiny, and there's still a few hours before my husband gets in. I've started sharing a cup of chamomile tea with Alice, and we talk about the day. Whether it's the chamomile taking effect, or just the act of spending a relaxing few minutes together, we're both soothed by this little routine. Try to find a shared activity that you both enjoy. I also find it really crucial to spend time with other adults, ideally every day. Being in the house with your child all day can make both of you irritable with each other. I find getting together with other mums acts as an invaluable pressure relief valve.
If your well laid plans have failed and you feel the anger rising, try some techniques to control yourself. These are almost clichés, but sometimes the old ones are the best!
If possible, make sure your child is in a safe place, then walk away for a little while to collect yourself. Make it clear to them that you are going to calm down for a moment, and will be back soon.
Close your eyes and take a few deep, slow breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth.
Make yourself aware of areas of tension, especially in your neck, shoulders, jaw, brow and hands. Make a conscious effort to relax them.
Remind yourself of how wonderful your child is. Think of the moments when you felt you could hardly breathe because you loved them so fiercely. Remember how they look when they sleep.
Once you return, you try to explain that you got angry, and how you're both going to move on. I find it really important that I reconnect with Alice, and the easiest way for me is through physical contact. Sharing a hug, or stroking the nape of her neck. Gentle, maternal actions awaken my motherly instincts and are often enough to shake off any remaining ill feeling.
If all this hasn't worked, and you've blown your top, apologise. Not for being angry, that's a valid emotion we all experience, but for how you expressed it. Maybe tell your child what you should have done instead. Don't labour the point though. Children are generally more forgiving than adults, and a clear, simple apology is all that's needed. No self-flagellation necessary. Try to forgive yourself too. I first heard the idea that people who feel bad behave badly in relation to children, but I think it's the same for us all. When I feel like a crappy mum, I generally act like one. No, it's not OK to shout and scream at your child, but we all slip up now and again. Remind yourself that you're the best parent this child can have, and move on from your mistakes.
As with most things in parenting, we're never going to get it right all the time, but hopefully we can aim to improve as we go along.
The key to preventing toddler meltdowns is making sure your child is well fed and rested. Difficult as it sometimes is, make sure you do the same for yourself. It's worth the investment. Think about when you're at your most volatile. For me, this is the afternoon when Alice is often whiny, and there's still a few hours before my husband gets in. I've started sharing a cup of chamomile tea with Alice, and we talk about the day. Whether it's the chamomile taking effect, or just the act of spending a relaxing few minutes together, we're both soothed by this little routine. Try to find a shared activity that you both enjoy. I also find it really crucial to spend time with other adults, ideally every day. Being in the house with your child all day can make both of you irritable with each other. I find getting together with other mums acts as an invaluable pressure relief valve.
If your well laid plans have failed and you feel the anger rising, try some techniques to control yourself. These are almost clichés, but sometimes the old ones are the best!
If possible, make sure your child is in a safe place, then walk away for a little while to collect yourself. Make it clear to them that you are going to calm down for a moment, and will be back soon.
Close your eyes and take a few deep, slow breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth.
Make yourself aware of areas of tension, especially in your neck, shoulders, jaw, brow and hands. Make a conscious effort to relax them.
Remind yourself of how wonderful your child is. Think of the moments when you felt you could hardly breathe because you loved them so fiercely. Remember how they look when they sleep.
Once you return, you try to explain that you got angry, and how you're both going to move on. I find it really important that I reconnect with Alice, and the easiest way for me is through physical contact. Sharing a hug, or stroking the nape of her neck. Gentle, maternal actions awaken my motherly instincts and are often enough to shake off any remaining ill feeling.
If all this hasn't worked, and you've blown your top, apologise. Not for being angry, that's a valid emotion we all experience, but for how you expressed it. Maybe tell your child what you should have done instead. Don't labour the point though. Children are generally more forgiving than adults, and a clear, simple apology is all that's needed. No self-flagellation necessary. Try to forgive yourself too. I first heard the idea that people who feel bad behave badly in relation to children, but I think it's the same for us all. When I feel like a crappy mum, I generally act like one. No, it's not OK to shout and scream at your child, but we all slip up now and again. Remind yourself that you're the best parent this child can have, and move on from your mistakes.
As with most things in parenting, we're never going to get it right all the time, but hopefully we can aim to improve as we go along.
Saturday, 9 April 2011
Decisions
I've been thinking lately about the huge responsibility a parent has to make decisions for their children. Even before conception there are so many choices. The easiest path to take is to follow the general population. You don't cause ripples, you assume someone has researched for you, and if Mrs Bloggs' kids turned out OK, most likely yours will too.
Sometimes I wish I could take the easy way, but I can't. I feel I have to read up on every issue I encounter. Sometimes I come to a quick decision. It just feels right. I knew I wouldn't ever let my baby 'Cry it out'. Yes, I read a lot to support my decision, but I didn't need a book to tell me how wrong it feels to let a baby cry uncomforted. Then there are the decisions that took a little longer to make. I began bed sharing with a huge burden of guilt. I'd said all through pregnancy that I'd follow the FSID guidelines for safe sleeping, and keep my baby in a cot. After less than a week, she was in our bed, and closer research revealed that this was actually not just better for me, but also better for Alice, I felt vindicated.
Unfortunately, there are also decisions that I sit on the fence with. At 19 months old, Alice still hasn't had her MMR jab. Frankly, I hate both the idea of her having it, and the idea of her not having it. My heart and instincts are useless to me in this decision, and I'm so confused. Equally, should I get pregnant again, I don't know if I'll want dopplers and ultrasounds used on me. I find in medical matters, I'm completely clueless, and sway wildly from one point of view to the next.
In the natural parenting community, I think there is sometimes pressure (self imposed, I must add) to collect the full set: Breastfeed, babywear, bedshare, eat wholefood/vegan/raw/paleo/organic, don't vaccinate, use homoeopathy, home birth, practise EC, unschool, plus many others. Straying from these makes me feel uncertain. If people I respect and identify with have gone a particular way, maybe I should too. I suppose that a decision made purely to fit in with a particular group is as ill-considered as blindly taking the conventional route.
I may not always make the right choices. There are already many I regret, and there will be many more, but I hope my children will know I always had their best interests in mind.
Sometimes I wish I could take the easy way, but I can't. I feel I have to read up on every issue I encounter. Sometimes I come to a quick decision. It just feels right. I knew I wouldn't ever let my baby 'Cry it out'. Yes, I read a lot to support my decision, but I didn't need a book to tell me how wrong it feels to let a baby cry uncomforted. Then there are the decisions that took a little longer to make. I began bed sharing with a huge burden of guilt. I'd said all through pregnancy that I'd follow the FSID guidelines for safe sleeping, and keep my baby in a cot. After less than a week, she was in our bed, and closer research revealed that this was actually not just better for me, but also better for Alice, I felt vindicated.
Unfortunately, there are also decisions that I sit on the fence with. At 19 months old, Alice still hasn't had her MMR jab. Frankly, I hate both the idea of her having it, and the idea of her not having it. My heart and instincts are useless to me in this decision, and I'm so confused. Equally, should I get pregnant again, I don't know if I'll want dopplers and ultrasounds used on me. I find in medical matters, I'm completely clueless, and sway wildly from one point of view to the next.
In the natural parenting community, I think there is sometimes pressure (self imposed, I must add) to collect the full set: Breastfeed, babywear, bedshare, eat wholefood/vegan/raw/paleo/organic, don't vaccinate, use homoeopathy, home birth, practise EC, unschool, plus many others. Straying from these makes me feel uncertain. If people I respect and identify with have gone a particular way, maybe I should too. I suppose that a decision made purely to fit in with a particular group is as ill-considered as blindly taking the conventional route.
I may not always make the right choices. There are already many I regret, and there will be many more, but I hope my children will know I always had their best interests in mind.
Thursday, 24 March 2011
My daughter, my teacher.
It is often said that nothing can prepare you for parenthood. It didn't stop me from trying as hard as I could . My husband and I went to NCT prenatal classes, I read books and visited websites and forums gleaning knowledge wherever I could. I began to feel that I may be able to manage being a mum. I knew what was important to me: Make sure the baby doesn't come in your bed or you'll never get them to sleep on their own, establish a flexible routine early on, feed on demand (roughly every 3-4 hours), use a bouncy chair to occupy the baby while you get on around the house.
Then Alice arrived.
A peaceful birth followed by months of anything but peace. Any slight discomfort was enough to send her screaming. For weeks it seemed as if the only time she was content was if she was suckling. I struggled to put her down for more than a few seconds. I ended up wearing her often in a sling, and just sitting holding her much of the rest of the time. When reading The Continuum Concept by the late Jean Liedloff, I felt so grateful to my opinionated little girl that she had made her needs so patently obvious.
Desperation and exhaustion led us to cosleeping less than a week after the birth, and I began to research to see just how dangerous the practice was. To my delight, I discovered Three in a Bed by Deborah Jackson, and realised that bed sharing was actually preferable to having my baby in a cot.
After some poor advice from my health visitor which resulted in my attempting to only feed every 2 hours rather than every half hour, Alice became truly hysterical, struggled to latch as I had become so engorged, and promptly threw up her entire feed in spectacular fashion. I quickly learnt that feeding on demand really does mean feeding as often as the baby demands.
Even now, Alice makes her feelings known very clearly, although thankfully she's beginning to find alternatives to bellowing at the top of her lungs. At times, it is exhausting, but I'm thoroughly grateful. I believe she is demanding what is best for all babies, to be held close and understood. As my head was filled with 'parenting advice' more subtle cues would undoubtedly have passed me by. Through her high needs, I have learnt to be a better mother than I would have been with a more placid child. We are learning together.
Then Alice arrived.
A peaceful birth followed by months of anything but peace. Any slight discomfort was enough to send her screaming. For weeks it seemed as if the only time she was content was if she was suckling. I struggled to put her down for more than a few seconds. I ended up wearing her often in a sling, and just sitting holding her much of the rest of the time. When reading The Continuum Concept by the late Jean Liedloff, I felt so grateful to my opinionated little girl that she had made her needs so patently obvious.
Desperation and exhaustion led us to cosleeping less than a week after the birth, and I began to research to see just how dangerous the practice was. To my delight, I discovered Three in a Bed by Deborah Jackson, and realised that bed sharing was actually preferable to having my baby in a cot.
After some poor advice from my health visitor which resulted in my attempting to only feed every 2 hours rather than every half hour, Alice became truly hysterical, struggled to latch as I had become so engorged, and promptly threw up her entire feed in spectacular fashion. I quickly learnt that feeding on demand really does mean feeding as often as the baby demands.
Even now, Alice makes her feelings known very clearly, although thankfully she's beginning to find alternatives to bellowing at the top of her lungs. At times, it is exhausting, but I'm thoroughly grateful. I believe she is demanding what is best for all babies, to be held close and understood. As my head was filled with 'parenting advice' more subtle cues would undoubtedly have passed me by. Through her high needs, I have learnt to be a better mother than I would have been with a more placid child. We are learning together.
Thursday, 10 March 2011
Good Girl
I'm committed to gentle parenting (although I admit, I slip up pretty often,) but sometimes my resolve waivers. It's not easy swimming upstream. If I were to take a more controlling parenting path, which thanks to my bossy personality would be very easy for me to do, wouldn't life be easier? Ignoring tantrums may cause a child to repress big feelings, but then don't we all do that to some extent? Not having to deal with stares and tuts would be a real benefit. Making Alice apologise if she snatches or pushes, reminding her to say please and thank you on cue. Little niceties like that would make her seem so much more appealing to others, and would reflect well on me too. When she's older, if I made it clear I was the boss, and expected no talking back, she'd be far less challenging than a child who speaks her mind.
All this may be true. I do sometimes look at the archetypal 'good' child, and regret that the way I am bringing Alice up is unlikely to produce such a paragon. We may think we've come a long way from the Victorian tenet that children should be seen and not heard, but in reality, that's still what we imagine to be a good child. One who doesn't interrupt when the grown ups are talking. One who parrots stock phrases, regardless of his true feelings. One who obeys without question 'Because I said so.'
In answer to my original question, yes life probably would be easier. For me. But when I became a parent, my priorities shifted. It's not about me any more. It is my responsibility to guide my daughter to become a happy, well adjusted adult. We don't value blind obedience in adults, nor do we appreciate falseness. If I am to help her to become a woman who is confident in accepting and dealing with her feelings, I have to show her that I accept them. I don't want her to be polite out of habit or sense of duty, I want her to do it because she respects her fellow human beings.
While Alice is still growing up, she may be vocal about her feelings, she may not conform to social expectations. The choices we've made as parents are unlikely to be the easy option, but it's my hope that they will help her to become a confident, empathetic, free thinking woman.
All this may be true. I do sometimes look at the archetypal 'good' child, and regret that the way I am bringing Alice up is unlikely to produce such a paragon. We may think we've come a long way from the Victorian tenet that children should be seen and not heard, but in reality, that's still what we imagine to be a good child. One who doesn't interrupt when the grown ups are talking. One who parrots stock phrases, regardless of his true feelings. One who obeys without question 'Because I said so.'
In answer to my original question, yes life probably would be easier. For me. But when I became a parent, my priorities shifted. It's not about me any more. It is my responsibility to guide my daughter to become a happy, well adjusted adult. We don't value blind obedience in adults, nor do we appreciate falseness. If I am to help her to become a woman who is confident in accepting and dealing with her feelings, I have to show her that I accept them. I don't want her to be polite out of habit or sense of duty, I want her to do it because she respects her fellow human beings.
While Alice is still growing up, she may be vocal about her feelings, she may not conform to social expectations. The choices we've made as parents are unlikely to be the easy option, but it's my hope that they will help her to become a confident, empathetic, free thinking woman.
Thursday, 3 March 2011
Why I Won't Be Using Time Out
The use of 'Time Out' as a method of discipline seems to be almost universal these days. It comes in various forms: steps, spots, corners and chairs where the 'naughty' child has to stay for a period of time. It is not a method I use, and I am confident that I never will. Here's why.
The heart of Time Out is separation. The child is removed from the rest of the family as their behaviour is unacceptable. Yet a three year old is more likely to interpret this separation as because they themselves are innately unacceptable. I fully believe that when you feel bad, you behave badly, so a child who feels naughty is likely to behave that way.
Proponents of the technique argue that it allows the child time to reflect on their bad behaviour. I think this is hopelessly overoptimistic. Anger, frustration and tiredness are often at the root of misbehaviour. In such a state it is hard for a child to think logically about the consequences of their actions. Think about times in your childhood when you were sent to your room. If you lay on your bed thinking "I see now that the behaviour I showed was inappropriate. I shall try to improve in future." you had greater control of your emotions than I do as an adult! My thoughts veered wildly between believing myself to be the most hard done by child ever to have lived, seething anger at my parents or crushing guilt and self loathing (I was a dramatic child, but you get the picture!).
An added twist, which has gained popularity, is making the child apologise before finishing their time out. It makes sense to our adult minds. A wrong has been committed, punishment served, and to wrap it all up nicely, forgiveness is sought and given. I doubt very much that many of the apologies offered are anything like genuine. Sitting stewing in emotions such as those I mentioned previously is unlikely to foster heartfelt regret. What is a parent to do? Accept a sullen 'Sorry!' and move on, or utter the immortal phrase "Say it like you mean it!" What does that teach a child? To lie more convincingly if they are to be accepted back into the family again? To repress their true feelings to save themselves from further punishment? Neither the muttered apology or the seemingly sincere one are of any true value, and may well be damaging.
So what can you do? Let's face it, sometimes children misbehave. It's our job as parents to guide them, and to help our families work harmoniously. Children are inexperienced at dealing with big feelings. They need a helping hand, so removing them from the situation, and staying with them shows they are accepted warts and all even when their actions are not. From this position of security, they have a better chance of facing up to their behaviour and learning how to change it.
Out of the terrifyingly confusing morass of parenting advice, I carry one mantra. In fact it's a good one for life in general. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." If I was in the child's position, I know how I would want to be treated, and it wouldn't involve Time Out.
The heart of Time Out is separation. The child is removed from the rest of the family as their behaviour is unacceptable. Yet a three year old is more likely to interpret this separation as because they themselves are innately unacceptable. I fully believe that when you feel bad, you behave badly, so a child who feels naughty is likely to behave that way.
Proponents of the technique argue that it allows the child time to reflect on their bad behaviour. I think this is hopelessly overoptimistic. Anger, frustration and tiredness are often at the root of misbehaviour. In such a state it is hard for a child to think logically about the consequences of their actions. Think about times in your childhood when you were sent to your room. If you lay on your bed thinking "I see now that the behaviour I showed was inappropriate. I shall try to improve in future." you had greater control of your emotions than I do as an adult! My thoughts veered wildly between believing myself to be the most hard done by child ever to have lived, seething anger at my parents or crushing guilt and self loathing (I was a dramatic child, but you get the picture!).
An added twist, which has gained popularity, is making the child apologise before finishing their time out. It makes sense to our adult minds. A wrong has been committed, punishment served, and to wrap it all up nicely, forgiveness is sought and given. I doubt very much that many of the apologies offered are anything like genuine. Sitting stewing in emotions such as those I mentioned previously is unlikely to foster heartfelt regret. What is a parent to do? Accept a sullen 'Sorry!' and move on, or utter the immortal phrase "Say it like you mean it!" What does that teach a child? To lie more convincingly if they are to be accepted back into the family again? To repress their true feelings to save themselves from further punishment? Neither the muttered apology or the seemingly sincere one are of any true value, and may well be damaging.
So what can you do? Let's face it, sometimes children misbehave. It's our job as parents to guide them, and to help our families work harmoniously. Children are inexperienced at dealing with big feelings. They need a helping hand, so removing them from the situation, and staying with them shows they are accepted warts and all even when their actions are not. From this position of security, they have a better chance of facing up to their behaviour and learning how to change it.
Out of the terrifyingly confusing morass of parenting advice, I carry one mantra. In fact it's a good one for life in general. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." If I was in the child's position, I know how I would want to be treated, and it wouldn't involve Time Out.
Thursday, 24 February 2011
How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk
As my little girl is rapidly growing older, I thought it was time to start thinking about how to deal with behaviour. I'm convinced that I want to avoid rewards or punishments, but this is virgin territory for me. How do you confront challenging behaviour without either carrot or stick? How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk was a title that I'd heard recommended in a number of blogs and forums, so I thought I'd give it a try. I'm so glad I did!
It's a very easy read, and even comes complete with cartoons to illustrate the key points! It reads like a manual and is very firmly grounded in the practical application of the tools it offers. In fact, the authors even set assignments and exercises to complete, and exhort you to actually write your responses. Their background is in parenting workshops, and reading this book made me feel I had attended one. I particularly appreciated the numerous references to when parents, and even the authors themselves, get it wrong and how it is possible to put right your inevitable slip ups. This is a book written for fallible human beings and unique, complex relationships, not for textbook, theoretical families.
The authors clearly regard children in a positive light. It's a far cry from the conventional attitude that children are basically bad and need cajoling to become socially acceptable. Instead, the approach is unremittingly respectful and relies on developing good relationships within a family where all members can speak freely and solve problems together.
A revelation for me was that it is acceptable, even essential, that we show our true emotions to our children. I have somehow always felt that certain feelings, especially anger, should be hidden, and the goal of a good parent should be to maintain a calm appearance. I realise now how dangerous this could be. You run the risk firstly of overreacting when all those suppressed feelings finally explode out of you, or perhaps worse, you pass on the message to your child that strong emotions are unacceptable and must be hidden away. The book provides practical ways in which we can acknowledge our anger, and model good ways to deal with it.
A comment at the end of the book really struck me. The authors identify learning their skills with learning a new language "To learn a new language is not easy. For one thing, you will always speak with an accent. . . . But for your children, it will be their native tongue!" (p271) Making the effort to sidestep the generally accepted methods of raising children has an impact not only on our relationship with them, but also on their relationships with others. We are providing them with the tools to communicate effectively. I can think of few better gifts I could give my daughter than that.
Friday, 18 February 2011
Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall
The past few days haven't been plain sailing for me and Alice. She's endlessly teething, and getting frustrated if I don't understand her attempts to speak. Little things are of cataclysmic importance to her. Heaven forbid I cut a piece of food for her that she wanted whole, or put the left shoe on before the right. She's less tolerant of other children than usual, and if someone so much as brushes past her, she collapses in tears. She seems perpetually frustrated and angry.
Me? I'm fine. Honestly.
I thought I was fine until I went upstairs to the bathroom, and caught sight of myself in the mirror. Reflected back at me was a frowning face with a deep furrow between the eyes, and a turned down mouth. I honestly looked like a villain from a Disney film. Quickly, I made the effort (and it was an effort) to relax the muscles in my face. I took some deep, slow breaths and closed my eyes before heading back downstairs to my already wailing child. Almost as soon as she saw me, I noticed a change in her behaviour. Her tight little muscles began relaxing and her movements became less jerky. It was obvious that my display of physical ease and contentment was affecting her own feelings.
Now I'm not going to pretend that all has been plain sailing since. She has her own feelings regardless of mine, but my efforts to control how I displayed myself to her seemed to break the cycle of stress. Imagine you had to spend all day with a person who looked pained and even resentful. Even the most buoyant of characters would find it hard to stay happy under those circumstances. Being more aware of my body language and facial expressions not only makes me feel more relaxed and positive, but it has a similar effect on Alice too. It's a significant step towards turning a negative cycle into a positive one.
Me? I'm fine. Honestly.
I thought I was fine until I went upstairs to the bathroom, and caught sight of myself in the mirror. Reflected back at me was a frowning face with a deep furrow between the eyes, and a turned down mouth. I honestly looked like a villain from a Disney film. Quickly, I made the effort (and it was an effort) to relax the muscles in my face. I took some deep, slow breaths and closed my eyes before heading back downstairs to my already wailing child. Almost as soon as she saw me, I noticed a change in her behaviour. Her tight little muscles began relaxing and her movements became less jerky. It was obvious that my display of physical ease and contentment was affecting her own feelings.
Now I'm not going to pretend that all has been plain sailing since. She has her own feelings regardless of mine, but my efforts to control how I displayed myself to her seemed to break the cycle of stress. Imagine you had to spend all day with a person who looked pained and even resentful. Even the most buoyant of characters would find it hard to stay happy under those circumstances. Being more aware of my body language and facial expressions not only makes me feel more relaxed and positive, but it has a similar effect on Alice too. It's a significant step towards turning a negative cycle into a positive one.
Friday, 26 November 2010
Trust
To have a strong relationship with someone, it is essential to trust them, but if we trust our children, we're often frowned upon, or at least deemed irresponsible.
It is not only children who are mistrusted. From the moment of conception, we're encouraged to put ourselves in the care of professionals. Doctors and midwives take blood samples, measure heart rates and take scans. During the birth, mother and baby are monitored, and all too often the birth is taken out of the mother's control. It seems a natural progression then that professionals should continue to be involved with the subsequent care of the baby. Health visitors, well meaning friends and of course, the ubiquitous baby care book are all on hand to offer advice and the mother learns to ignore her instincts.
Those who practise cry it out or controlled crying techniques rarely enjoy the experience. The sound of a baby's cry, even one that isn't ours, spurs us to do something about it. To ignore a baby's cry goes against our instincts. Jean Liedloff writes in The Continuum Concept that 'young mothers read and obey, untrusting of their innate ability, untrusting of the baby's 'motives' in giving the still perfectly clear signals." (p.49) In our society, children, even babies, are viewed with suspicion. Rather than trusting that their cries signal a need, we are told that they are manipulating us. Liefloff continues, saying that "Babies have, indeed, become a sort of enemy to be vanquished by the mother. Crying must be ignored so as to show the baby who is boss, and a basic premise in the relationship is that every effort should be made to force the baby to conform to the mother's wishes." (p.49). In this relationship, there is no trust. The mother no longer trusts herself, and she certainly doesn't trust the baby to know his own mind. Saddest of all, the baby soon learns that its mother cannot be trusted to fulfil his needs.
This pattern continues as the child grows. 'Pick your battles' while true in essence, and something I regularly remind myself of, emphasises the way we view our relationship with our children as an adversarial one. There can be no real trust with an adversary. Locked in a battle of wills with their children, it is no surprise that many parents find themselves under huge stress. Would it be so disastrous, however, to trust our children? To assume, unless clearly proven otherwise, that their motives are good? Christina Fletcher, writing in The Mother says of children 'it's important to see them as Who They Really Are through our words, actions and thoughts, and make them feel like they have great worth to the world." (p.31) When we see them this way, when we trust in them, they will more often than not live up to our expectations.
Fletcher, C. (2010, November/December).Dealing with sibling rivalry with spirit. The Mother, 43, 31-32.
Liedloff, J. (2004) The Continuum Concept (New Ed edition) London: Penguin.
It is not only children who are mistrusted. From the moment of conception, we're encouraged to put ourselves in the care of professionals. Doctors and midwives take blood samples, measure heart rates and take scans. During the birth, mother and baby are monitored, and all too often the birth is taken out of the mother's control. It seems a natural progression then that professionals should continue to be involved with the subsequent care of the baby. Health visitors, well meaning friends and of course, the ubiquitous baby care book are all on hand to offer advice and the mother learns to ignore her instincts.
Those who practise cry it out or controlled crying techniques rarely enjoy the experience. The sound of a baby's cry, even one that isn't ours, spurs us to do something about it. To ignore a baby's cry goes against our instincts. Jean Liedloff writes in The Continuum Concept that 'young mothers read and obey, untrusting of their innate ability, untrusting of the baby's 'motives' in giving the still perfectly clear signals." (p.49) In our society, children, even babies, are viewed with suspicion. Rather than trusting that their cries signal a need, we are told that they are manipulating us. Liefloff continues, saying that "Babies have, indeed, become a sort of enemy to be vanquished by the mother. Crying must be ignored so as to show the baby who is boss, and a basic premise in the relationship is that every effort should be made to force the baby to conform to the mother's wishes." (p.49). In this relationship, there is no trust. The mother no longer trusts herself, and she certainly doesn't trust the baby to know his own mind. Saddest of all, the baby soon learns that its mother cannot be trusted to fulfil his needs.
This pattern continues as the child grows. 'Pick your battles' while true in essence, and something I regularly remind myself of, emphasises the way we view our relationship with our children as an adversarial one. There can be no real trust with an adversary. Locked in a battle of wills with their children, it is no surprise that many parents find themselves under huge stress. Would it be so disastrous, however, to trust our children? To assume, unless clearly proven otherwise, that their motives are good? Christina Fletcher, writing in The Mother says of children 'it's important to see them as Who They Really Are through our words, actions and thoughts, and make them feel like they have great worth to the world." (p.31) When we see them this way, when we trust in them, they will more often than not live up to our expectations.
Fletcher, C. (2010, November/December).Dealing with sibling rivalry with spirit. The Mother, 43, 31-32.
Liedloff, J. (2004) The Continuum Concept (New Ed edition) London: Penguin.
Monday, 22 November 2010
Toddlers
Imagine you are living in a world where people communicate through an unfamiliar language, and although you are beginning to understand, there is a lot of confusion. Your own words are few and frequently misunderstood by those around you. You are beset by emotions that are too big for you to deal with yet, and sometimes the strength of them is scary.
It is all too easy to view toddlers' tantrums and shouting as mere defiance. To think that their sole purpose in life is to thwart whatever you have planned for them. It is easy to become frustrated and wish that they would just do as they were told. Taking a step out of your own needs and feelings for a moment, and seeing the world as it is to them can help us to remain calmer and more tolerant. Allowing some freedom to choose, to consider whether what we are asking is too much and to devise compromises wherever possible can go a long way to smoothing their path through a tricky time, and allowing ourselves to feel calmer.
1. See it from their point of view. A child who screams when having their coat put on may just be too hot. They don't know that the temperature will change when they get outside. Maybe try going outside first before putting it on, or playing a hide and seek game with their fingers.
2. Leave lots of time for potentially contentious tasks. Walking to the shops may take four times as long if you stop to look at every leaf and stone on the way, but it will be a lot less stressful.
3. Allow some degree of choice. Sometimes choices overwhelm children, but allowing some control over their day will make them feel a little less powerless. It makes no difference to you which shoe goes on first, but it might to them.
4. Distraction often works like magic. Breaking into song or playing pat-a-cake might be all that's needed to halt a stand-off.
5. Be aware of danger times. Tiredness and hunger makes us all grumpy, but is especially hard when you are small. Try to arrange jobs that must be done just after nap times or meals when your toddler is at their most amenable.
6. Talk to them. Explain what you are doing and why you are doing it. They may not understand every word, but they are starting to get the gist of most of what you say. If you're going to leave the park soon, tell them. To be whisked away from a task you were enjoying would annoy anybody, but some advance warning may help.
7. Listen to them. Even if they don't seem to be saying proper words, they are trying to communicate and it is only polite to listen to them. You might be surprised at how much they can convey. Even if you don't understand, they will at least feel you are taking notice.
8.When tantrums hit, stay close. Turning your back or ignoring the tantrum isn't showing your child that their behaviour isn't acceptable, it is telling them that they are unacceptable. Although a hitting, kicking, screaming child might seem defiant, they are just out of control. You wouldn't leave them if they were crying in sadness or pain, why leave them when they are overwhelmed with anger and frustration? Sometimes a hand laid on their chest, or just sitting by is all that's needed to let them know you are there to help. Naming their feelings is another useful way to show you understand and to help them recognise what is happening to them.
9. Enjoy your toddler. When you've had a particularly trying time, make sure you find some time to reconnect with your child. Taking a nap together while you stroke their hair, or playing a favourite game reminds you both that your relationship is based on love not opposition.
10. Take time for yourself. If you are exhausted and at your wits' end, you can't give anything back to your toddler. I know you've heard this advice before, and it's easy to scoff and say you've no time for it, but make time. It takes far less time than you'd think to recuperate. 5 minutes of meditation, 10 minutes for a cup of tea and a biscuit or 20 minutes for a hot bath. Try and fit time for yourself in to the day and your whole family will benefit.
Thursday, 14 October 2010
Tantrums
Before having Alice, I was pretty hard on parents. I was convinced that I would be able to sail through parenting and would always manage any behaviour problems with ease, that is if my child ever showed any sort of misbehaviour. My fine skills would mean that any child of mine would rarely, if ever display any sort of undesirable behaviour. Now, at thirteen months old, Alice is showing me that I might have been a bit hasty to judge so quickly. Most of the time, she is a sunny, happy little girl. She's confident and full of humour. Unfortunately, as she displayed even as a newborn, there's no middle ground with her, and when she's not happy, she makes it very, very clear.
Tantrums are the usually result when I pick her up when she doesn't want me to, try to carry her when she wants to walk, or take something away that she was playing with. I try to limit how often this happens, but there are always times when it can't be avoided. She will alternate going totally rigid with becoming floppy and throwing herself on the floor. She's impossible to pick up when she's in this state. She screams like a banshee and writhes around and all I can do is sit near her and stroke her back until she's back in control.
I cope quite well when we're in private, but if this happens in a public place, I can't help feeling the eyes of other people on me. I am tempted to be harder on Alice when we're in public, putting on the stern face, or yanking her to her feet, as I want to show bystanders that I am doing something about her behaviour. My child may be all but foaming at the mouth, but I'm not a pushover, oh no! It's at those times that I need to remind myself that she is more important than the opinions of others, and she needs calm reassurance to regain her control.
If nothing else, I've learnt to be far less judgemental about the decisions of others. I don't always deal with her tantrums as well as I should do, but I'm sure I will have many opportunities to practice my skills over the next few months!
Tantrums are the usually result when I pick her up when she doesn't want me to, try to carry her when she wants to walk, or take something away that she was playing with. I try to limit how often this happens, but there are always times when it can't be avoided. She will alternate going totally rigid with becoming floppy and throwing herself on the floor. She's impossible to pick up when she's in this state. She screams like a banshee and writhes around and all I can do is sit near her and stroke her back until she's back in control.
I cope quite well when we're in private, but if this happens in a public place, I can't help feeling the eyes of other people on me. I am tempted to be harder on Alice when we're in public, putting on the stern face, or yanking her to her feet, as I want to show bystanders that I am doing something about her behaviour. My child may be all but foaming at the mouth, but I'm not a pushover, oh no! It's at those times that I need to remind myself that she is more important than the opinions of others, and she needs calm reassurance to regain her control.
If nothing else, I've learnt to be far less judgemental about the decisions of others. I don't always deal with her tantrums as well as I should do, but I'm sure I will have many opportunities to practice my skills over the next few months!
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
Slugs and Snails and Puppydogs Tails
Children continue to be heavily influenced by society's expectation for different genders. Here's a little test for you. I'll give the descriptions of characters from the children's TV programme, Waybuloo taken from the CBeebies website and you decide if the characters are male or female.
1. Full of fun, mischievous and loves surprises.
2. Creative and thrives when dancing or painting.
3. Practical and inventive, happiest when making things.
4. Thoughtful, caring and loves gardening.
(answers at the bottom!).
My mother came across these wonderful items in a toyshop. Magnetic words, supposedly linked to the National Literacy Strategy separated into girls' words and boys' words. Boys get climbing, helicopter, snails and mud while girls are offered cooking, dancing, lipstick and (I can barely contain myself for this one,) fluff! Apparently even our language needs to be polarised between words suitable for the two sexes.
These stereotypes may well suit some children, but the problem is that they do not suit all, and the pressures of conforming to something you are not at such a young age must be damaging. Girls who climb trees or don't want to pretend to be Hannah Montana are deemed 'tomboys' as I remember calling myself as a child in the post-pink days. The judgements on a boy who prefers playing with dolls to football are even more damning.
I have always hoped that my children will be able to choose what they do, wear and say based on their own thoughts and feelings, not because it fits with the expectations of society. It seems that this might be a more challenging dream than I had realised.
In case you are burning with the need to know the gender of the Waybuloo characters, the answers are 1. male, 2. female, 3. male, 4. female. If you got them all right give your self a gender specific pat on the back.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
New Shoes
These are Alice's first proper pair of shoes.
This is how I see them.
This is how Alice sees them.
Now she is walking fairly well, she always wants to get down and wander about when we're out, and sometimes socks don't cut it on wet, uneven or dirty surfaces. We fulfilled my dream of going and getting her fitted in Clarks and became proud owners of new shoes (size 4G if you're interested.)
The problem is she hates them. Despises them. Loathes them. Detests them. If I manage to get them on her feet, which is a herculean task, she stands stock still and screams until she is purple. No amount of distraction technique is enough to dissuade her. As she apparently will need a new fitting in 4-6 weeks, I want to get my money's worth, but she has other ideas. We've tried leaving them around while she plays, and she even picks them up and puts them next to her feet, but she will not tolerate actually wearing them.
If anyone has any tips, or even just a bit of sympathy, it would be very welcome!
This is how I see them.
This is how Alice sees them.
The problem is she hates them. Despises them. Loathes them. Detests them. If I manage to get them on her feet, which is a herculean task, she stands stock still and screams until she is purple. No amount of distraction technique is enough to dissuade her. As she apparently will need a new fitting in 4-6 weeks, I want to get my money's worth, but she has other ideas. We've tried leaving them around while she plays, and she even picks them up and puts them next to her feet, but she will not tolerate actually wearing them.
If anyone has any tips, or even just a bit of sympathy, it would be very welcome!
Monday, 13 September 2010
Unconditional Parenting
If the reward of your actions is praise from others, it devalues the intrinsic rewards of the action. I would hope that Alice will share her toys because she respects her playmates, not because she gets a beaming smile and an enthusiastic 'Well done for sharing!' from me.
Lack of praise does not equate to lack of love. I constantly shower Alice with kisses and cuddles and tell her how much I love her. I hope she'll never be in doubt of that. It is hard to break the habits of a lifetime, and a 'Good girl!' occasionally escapes my lips, but I am getting better at commenting on what she has done instead. 'You climbed right to the top of the stairs!' allows her to see that I'm interested in her achievements, but still lets her have her own sense of pride.
I'm still very much at the beginning of this journey and learning alternatives to the traditional carrot and stick approach. I certainly don't aim to be permissive, but I believe there are more alternatives than is often made out. Alice is still a baby and both of us have a lot to learn. As long as I maintain the respect for her that I would give any adult, and make a point of ensuring she knows that I always love her, I hopefully won't go too far wrong.
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Perfect mum
Before I had Alice, I imagined that birth was a transforming process. I would emerge from it like a butterfly from a chrysalis, purged of any shred of selfish thoughts, entirely focussed on the new life I had brought into this world. I would have made an irreversible transition into motherhood.
In some ways this was true. I am different, and birth itself is a life-changing experience. I will always have another person's welfare to value above my own, but the embodiment of unselfishness and maternal feeling I am not. It has come as quite a surprise.
Mothers are held up in most societies for their ungrudging and generous natures. Colicky babies and toddler tantrums are dealt with graciously by this image of the ideal maternal figure. That is what I wanted to be, but I am not her. It came as a shock to realise that sometimes I take the behaviour of my tiny child personally. My rational mind is telling me that she has no concept of how her behaviour affects others, but I can't help feeling cross, and frustrated. I feel like having a tantrum of my own. Quite often, I am selfish. There are times when what Alice needs more than anything is gentle words and cuddles, but sometimes I just want to get away. At these times I am so grateful for my husband, and so in awe of parents who weather the hard times on their own. I simply do not have the ability to be a great mummy all the time.
The title of this blog is something I repeat to myself often. I am trying to be good enough, not perfect. If it gets too much, as it has been quite a lot recently, I am trying to allow myself the time to recharge my energy, give myself a break and try to lower my expectations of myself a little. We all have off days, even when we are mothers.
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
A word of advice
As Alice has reached her first birthday, it's got me thinking about the experience of looking after her. While I was pregnant I was almost overwhelmed with advice. Parenting is an area that everyone has an opinion on, and everyone wants to share those opinions with you. Sometimes the advice is helpful, sometimes not so much. Here are five sayings that I found invaluable, and five that I wish I'd never heard.
1) This too shall pass
I'm still reciting this mantra virtually every day! It is good to know that just when you think you can take no more - broken sleep, biting while feeding, throwing food, pulling on wires, the phase is over and the baby is on to the next stage.
2) Follow your instincts
It is still miraculous to me that somehow Alice and I just seemed to know what to do. She latched on herself better than any midwife could have latched her. I knew I should feed her when she wanted to, not just at 2 hourly intervals, and I always picked her up when she cried. Obviously, some things took practice, but the essentials were there.
3) What babies need most is a happy mummy.
I still need to remind myself of this. A good mother is seen as totally unselfish. To occasionally put ourselves first seems like sacrilege, but it is sometimes necessary. I have been so burnt out at times that I have resented the baby for doing what babies do, and that is a horrible place to be. Calling in the cavalry (usually my husband!) and going for a long bath with a cup of tea is a much better way to deal with the inevitable frustrations of baby care.
4) Sleep breeds sleep
In the early days I worried that if she slept too much, she wouldn't sleep at night. Turns out they sleep much easier when they are well rested. Which brings me on to...
5) Never wake a sleeping baby
Enough said.
And now to the not so helpful comments:
1) You're making a rod for your own back.
Co-sleeping, picking them up when they cry, breastfeeding on demand. you name it, you'll hear that awful phrase. Well, it isn't true.
2) Crying is good exercise for the lungs.
I think it was Dr Sears who said if crying is good for the lungs, bleeding is good for the veins.
3) Breastfed babies don't get colic
I laboured under this belief for a long time but have come to realise that Alice was a colicky baby. her symptoms melted away at around 4 months and she seemed like a new baby. I had a very quick let down and she was constantly sick. I feel awful that I didn't make an effort to help her more at that stage.
4) Big babies need weaning sooner
I've heard this from all corners including my health visitor, but it has never made sense to me. How could mushy vegetables or cereal provide more calories than milk?
5) Put the baby down or they'll get clingy.
Nope.
1) This too shall pass
I'm still reciting this mantra virtually every day! It is good to know that just when you think you can take no more - broken sleep, biting while feeding, throwing food, pulling on wires, the phase is over and the baby is on to the next stage.
2) Follow your instincts
It is still miraculous to me that somehow Alice and I just seemed to know what to do. She latched on herself better than any midwife could have latched her. I knew I should feed her when she wanted to, not just at 2 hourly intervals, and I always picked her up when she cried. Obviously, some things took practice, but the essentials were there.
3) What babies need most is a happy mummy.
I still need to remind myself of this. A good mother is seen as totally unselfish. To occasionally put ourselves first seems like sacrilege, but it is sometimes necessary. I have been so burnt out at times that I have resented the baby for doing what babies do, and that is a horrible place to be. Calling in the cavalry (usually my husband!) and going for a long bath with a cup of tea is a much better way to deal with the inevitable frustrations of baby care.
4) Sleep breeds sleep
In the early days I worried that if she slept too much, she wouldn't sleep at night. Turns out they sleep much easier when they are well rested. Which brings me on to...
5) Never wake a sleeping baby
Enough said.
And now to the not so helpful comments:
1) You're making a rod for your own back.
Co-sleeping, picking them up when they cry, breastfeeding on demand. you name it, you'll hear that awful phrase. Well, it isn't true.
2) Crying is good exercise for the lungs.
I think it was Dr Sears who said if crying is good for the lungs, bleeding is good for the veins.
3) Breastfed babies don't get colic
I laboured under this belief for a long time but have come to realise that Alice was a colicky baby. her symptoms melted away at around 4 months and she seemed like a new baby. I had a very quick let down and she was constantly sick. I feel awful that I didn't make an effort to help her more at that stage.
4) Big babies need weaning sooner
I've heard this from all corners including my health visitor, but it has never made sense to me. How could mushy vegetables or cereal provide more calories than milk?
5) Put the baby down or they'll get clingy.
Nope.
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Armchair Experts
I was fortunate enough to be breastfed until I self weaned at around 18 months old. I've spoken to my mother about this and whether she encountered any negative attitudes from others. She said that she didn't and just continued feeding me because it seemed to be the natural thing. I still wanted milk and she still wanted to feed me. When one day I proclaimed 'No gack', that was where it finished. It wasn't anyone else's business.
Many people now seem to see the parenting choices of others as very much their business. I have a theory about partly why this may be. Over the past 10 years, television programmes have sprung up showing parents who are struggling with their children. Sleeping, eating and behaviour problems are all held up for scrutiny by the in show experts, and for us. We are encouraged to be armchair experts, sagely shaking our heads at the glaring mistakes these foolish parents are making.
We forget that these are television shows, edited and cut together to make good TV that fits the pattern. We have no knowledge of a back story of these families, nor have we a right to know, because it isn't for us to judge. Unfortunately, that is what we are encouraged to do, and it begins to spread out into the real world. What right have we to judge the parenting choices of others? I am convinced of the benefits of attachment parenting and believe it is the right way to bring up my daughter, but if another parent follows, for example, the Gina Ford approach, who am I to criticise? It isn't any of my business. If anyone asks me my opinion, I am more than happy to explain my reasons for the way I raise my daughter, but otherwise, I must learn to keep my mouth shut and allow others the freedom to get on with being a parent and hope that others will have the same respect for me.
Many people now seem to see the parenting choices of others as very much their business. I have a theory about partly why this may be. Over the past 10 years, television programmes have sprung up showing parents who are struggling with their children. Sleeping, eating and behaviour problems are all held up for scrutiny by the in show experts, and for us. We are encouraged to be armchair experts, sagely shaking our heads at the glaring mistakes these foolish parents are making.
We forget that these are television shows, edited and cut together to make good TV that fits the pattern. We have no knowledge of a back story of these families, nor have we a right to know, because it isn't for us to judge. Unfortunately, that is what we are encouraged to do, and it begins to spread out into the real world. What right have we to judge the parenting choices of others? I am convinced of the benefits of attachment parenting and believe it is the right way to bring up my daughter, but if another parent follows, for example, the Gina Ford approach, who am I to criticise? It isn't any of my business. If anyone asks me my opinion, I am more than happy to explain my reasons for the way I raise my daughter, but otherwise, I must learn to keep my mouth shut and allow others the freedom to get on with being a parent and hope that others will have the same respect for me.
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