A Wild Ride: Our Blog

Sometimes, when I'm in the thick of a difficult situation, I fail to see the world around me. A good friend, whose calm life was shattered last fall due to her husband's stroke, recently wrote this:

We’re keeping perspective, grateful to be home, to have a home… happy to be alive and together. Not a given. Our community has been hit hard with critical illnesses lately. The only way I know of to weather the storms is to take slow deep breaths every day, and to rest quietly in each moment -- when I remember that is. Our hearts are full, holding close to loved ones struggling for life.

Today, regardless of your situation, I wish you a full-heart! ~ Elizabeth

Photo by Mary Pohlmann. Today is her birthday!

Posted by Elizabeth at 5:57 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

What Next?

Being a parent is supposed to be a rewarding experience right? That is what we grow up believing and that is what we expect.

However, sometimes life does not work out the way we expect it too. When I was expecting my daughter, I was elated to find she was a girl. I already had a son and a daughter would complete the picture.

My pregnancy was normal, and there were no complications. However in my 7th month, I went into labor. There were no causes for it, it just happens, I was told.

From the beginning, even when my daughter was in the infant ICU, I knew there were going to be problems. I was told to expect it. Premature babies suffer from a lot of different illness, some medical and some emotional.

My daughter grew out of her medical complications fairly quickly and became a thriving yet demanding child. I really never gave too much thought to it because she was so healthy. She was (and is) a beautiful and intelligent child who wanted everything.

I gave in most of the time, and as she grew older, her demands grew with her. Around 2 years old, I finally put of foot down and began the task of disciple and teaching her appropriate behavior.

She would have none of it. Her demands grew into fits of rage when she did not get what she wanted and violence when she was told no.

As she grew, I realized that something was not right. After being taken to several different doctors, and told that there was nothing wrong, frustration began to take hold of me.

No matter what method of discipline was used, nothing worked. Being a parent who does not believe in spanking, I tried everything else there is to try.

When my third child was born, my daughter did everything she could to get him out of our house. She would do things to hurt the baby, and it was necessary to monitor them at all times. They could never be left alone together.

At one point, it was necessary to hire a babysitter just to go food shopping because she did not get what she wanted.

The screams of rage and anger ran through our apartment building and neighbors would knock on our door to make sure she was all right.

One doctor suggested that I spend time alone with her and it seemed to work for a while, however the more time I spent with her, the more time she wanted. The more presents I bought her, the more she wanted. I was told that she was jealous of the new baby and could understand that. I set a side one day a week that I would spend just with her. It turned into a nightmare when she disappeared in a store one afternoon and the manager of the store locked it down so until we found her an hour later, underneath one of the displays.

When my daughter started school, she began to calm down; I thought that maybe that is what she needed. However, after about two months of school, the teacher called a parent teacher meeting. I found that my daughter was telling horrific stories about her home life and could not believe that she could come up with such things.

My daughter had taken aptitude tests in kindergarten and it was determined that she had learning disabilities which are common in premature babies.

The frustration that she felt at school was unleashed at home to the point where we did not know what to do. This has gone on for four years.

After years of bringing her to different doctors, we were referred to a behavioral specialist and it was determined that my daughter has many different disorders that need to treated with both therapy and medication.

She has responded very well to both treatments and is finally becoming a happy child. She even laughs now, something she has done rarely in the past.

The point of my story is that as parents, we all have instincts regarding our children. Never let someone tell you that your instincts are wrong. It is your child's health and welfare that is at stake, and if it is necessary to see twenty doctors to find answers then do it. No one knows your child better then you.

My daughter went through years of behavioral problems that could have been managed before they grew to the level that they did because I ignored my instincts and followed the advice of others.

As a parent, I felt that I let my daughter down by not pursuing every avenue. I followed advice that led to more problems and I was physically and emotionally drained from this experience.

Kelly is the mother of 3 children, 2 of which have severe difficulties. She lives in the New England region of US and is a work- at-home mom for 5 years.

Photo © Vasiliy Koval - Fotolia.com

Posted by Elizabeth at 5:35 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I've said before that the beauty of the Blogosphere is that we can share stories, ideas, strategies, viewpoints with millions of people. We can also make great "new" friends. One of my personal Blogger favorites is Krista Long. Check out her Blog Krista's Thoughts. But first read her piece on Expectations below.

When I originally found out I was pregnant with my oldest son, I did not have too many expectations of what being a parent was like. I was 19 years old, and living a fairly unstable nomadic life at that point. Finding out I was pregnant was like adding fertilizer to the garden. My growth increased, I started to unfurl, but it was not instantaneous.

Going through childbirth is to this day the one experience in my life that was the most intense. I think nothing else captures that sense of pain, exhaustion, joy, and expectation that the delivery process is.

I am an insatiable learner, and devoured books on parenting whole. I was determined to "do this right". Raising children was going to be my opus magna. Then, reality set in. I was doing it by the book, but the books often conflicted, and my son had his own ideas. We were poor, and by the time he was two I was working 50 hours a week, taking 9 credit hours in school, and still doing the brunt of the home and child care. By the time he was three, I was tired of the supermom life and moved my family 200 miles away from our home base to go to school full time. Along came my second child.

That was when things got really interesting. Things were not going well. I learned, I lived, but I fell prey to self-doubt. I believed I was the one going insane, when in reality, it was the chaos swirling around me. I had to let some things go, and grab on and hold tight to other things. I was damaged, but I survived. My children survived. My marriage did not. My career did not. My confidence in my abilities as a parent did not.

After that Winter came the Spring. I started to grow again. I adapted to the new life I had, learning to live and to parent anew. I embraced a new identity as the mother of a child with special needs, as the mother of boys, and as a single mother. I embraced motherhood.

And yet, I did not realize yet that those nebulous expectations still existed. I still expected my children to be children. I still expected that those in my life would respect my role as their mother, and as my older son's caregiver. And, even more importantly, I expected people to acknowledge the fact that I am not perfect. I still had needs beyond motherhood, and one of those was the need for a break.

I had not realized that I had not confronted the fact that my expectations of what life would be like at this point have been completely shattered. I have not mourned the loss of the life I dreamed of. I thought my children would be working towards independence and my life would look a lot different than it does.

Each day was and is a new adventure. I never know what to expect. And I have found my expectations to be shaped by the life I lived and by my experiences. I fall short of those expectations, and find myself revising them. My children do not fit in those expectations and I find myself revising them. And sometimes, something happens that makes me re-examine everything.

I have a quote in my e-mail signature that I get a lot of compliments on: "Bringing up a family should be an adventure, not an anxious discipline in which everybody is constantly graded for performance." ~ Milton R. Sapirstein (Paradoxes of Everyday Life). There is currently a lot of conflict in my oldest's son's Child and Family Team. (.pdf) A therapist I am seeing was reviewing the issues I brought up, a lot of which were a direct critique of me and my parenting, and a recommendation that my son go live with his father. This is not the place to go into details about the how or the why or even the rebuttals against some of the accusations being leveled at me.

But the point I am trying to make is that she said something that blew me out of the water. She looked at me and told me that she did not know if she could handle someone examining her parenting to that level of detail. I looked at her blankly for a second, and slowly realized a new paradigm. While I had verbalized the quote above, I had not internalized it. I had merely accepted the fact that my parenting was going to be scrutinized with a fine tooth comb because I had invited people into my life for help. I had internalized the "Your son has problems, therefore you must be a bad parent" message. I allowed others expectations and perceptions of me to guide what I was doing, instead of really figuring out what was truly best for my family.

We had had a discussion last week, because I am not doing so well at school, about failure and perfection. I realized something and said it through tears, "I can fail at school, but I can NOT fail at parenthood. The stakes are too high." That evolved into a discussion of how vulnerable you are when you present something as your best creative work and people tear it to shreds. People have been doing that to me for years. But now, I think I am ready to say it.

Raising my children, giving them boundaries while allowing them to develop into their own people, and coaching them and helping them through their lives, is my best creative work. I have put myself into it body and soul. And in spite of all the hardship, all the trauma, and the extra help our little family needs, I am proud of it. I am a good parent. I am not a perfect parent, and no one has a right to expect me to be one.

Posted by Elizabeth at 2:30 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

...Something Other than What You're Facing!

Our old friend Jen Zug from This Pile is back! Today she reminds us that sometimes our expectations of our children are unreasonable -- especially when they are only mimicking what that see us do and say.

Last Spring when Bryan and I were in the car with our two kids - a preschooler and a toddler - a verbal scuffle started in the back seat.

Ruthie (the preschooler): MOM! We're playing hide and seek, but Thomas won't stop counting!

We were in the car, and hiding consisted of covering her face with her hands. But still.

Me: Did you ask him to stop?

Ruthie then turns to Thomas and begins screaming at him to stop. I cringed as the echoes of her screams reverberated in my head.

Me: You need to ask him to stop without screaming at him. That's not okay.

Ruthie, in a horrifically matter-of-fact tone: But mom, I have to scream at him because he's not stopping.

At which point I smirk quietly to myself as Bryan throws his head back in that deep, bellowing, from-the-gut laugh that I love (but only when it's not at my expense), and he says, "You are SO BUSTED!"

Yes, it's true: I'm a screamer.

Mothering my daughter has not been an easy experience. But then again, I'm not sure why I thought it would be. I came into mothering with the expectation that I would lead, teach, correct, and mentor, and my daughter would lovingly follow.

This has not been the case. Instead, the scenario looks more like, expect, demand, shame, and force.

I read somewhere once that at the root of disappointment is failed expectation. When I saw this, I realized I had been expecting all the wrong things out of motherhood: I was expecting everything to go my way; I was expecting my daughter would be molded into what I wanted her to be; I was expecting to clock in every morning and clock out every evening.

I expected I could parent out of my own needs.

Through counseling and soul-searching and kinship with friends my eyes were opened to this, and I began to shift my expectations. Now, more and more, I expect my daughter to be tenacious and opposing, so I teach her to obey without stripping her of who she is; now I expect to be a mother all the time; now I expect to find joy in my children's' personalities, no matter how challenging.

In letting go of my own expectations, I have discovered what my children really need to gain life skills and be successful.

I think I have found the balance now. I scream a lot less these days, but not because my children's behavior has dramatically changed - my daughter's strength is still draining and keeps me on my toes. But rather, I have grieved my lost expectations and let them go.

And in letting go, I discovered my disappointment has turned to joy at being a mother to two beautiful, challenging children.

Read Jen's other Blog entries:

Photo © anna karwowska - Fotolia.com

Posted by Elizabeth at 5:16 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I expected my son to be a daughter.
I expected him to sleep through the night at 7 weeks like his older brother.
I expected him to calm down when I picked him up from his crib.
I expected him to enjoy playing with other children.
I expected him to be happy.
I expected life with my second son to be different than it is.

By the time my son Jason turned three, I knew he was not like other children. Sights, sounds, and smells overwhelmed him. My expectations of becoming a stay-at-home mom (I worked full-time with my first son) became exactly that: We stayed-at-home. Three people in a room was one person too many.

Wondering if there was some medical explanation for his constant unhappiness, I took Jason to our pediatrician, Dr. Kyle. Fortunately there was nothing physiologically wrong with him, but the doctor suggested that Jason may be suffering from an undiagnosed neurologic disorder, and we began the search for calming activities.

I explained to Dr. Kyle that each day, when I noticed Jason’s anxiety and irritability escalate (usually after some over-stimulating activity like picking up his brother from school), I would play Mozart, Bach or Beethoven softly in the background. Dr. Kyle immediately recommended music therapy. .

Looking for activities we might both enjoy, I bought tickets to the symphony. We arrived early. A few people mingled in the lobby of the symphony hall. The massive windows allowed filtered sunlight to stream through, making the glistening chandeliers unnecessary. I debated whether to find our seats immediately or wait until closer to the performance time. If we sat too early, Jason would become restless. If we waited too long, the crowds of people might overwhelm him. We chose the former.

Not many children attended the symphony but those who did were dressed in their finest clothes, especially the girls. My son could not be convinced to wear anything other than shorts, t-shirt, and sweatshirt. Hey, we’re here, I reminded myself, and I let the clothing expectation go.

As the symphony played, Jason slowly leaned into my shoulder, less for comfort, more to escape the person on his right who might brush against him. By the second movement of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Jason was asleep. I aroused him at intermission, thinking a treat would be welcomed but he chose not to leave our seats.

During the second half of the performance he stayed awake, but he climbed under our seats and curled into a ball. He remained there until the end of the performance. Thankfully the patrons next to us merely smiled.

Driving home from the concert, I asked my son the question no parent should ever ask because the answer will rarely be what you expected.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?”

“I hated it.”

“Oh, but I thought you liked classical music.”

“I do. It’s all the people I can’t stand.”

Never one to give up easily, I took Jason to the symphony again a few months later. This time he fell asleep so soundly that he peed all over himself and the plush velvet upholstery.

Not at all what I expected.

Posted by Elizabeth at 6:15 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Part Two
Breaking the Grip of Exhaustion
by Patty Wipfler
Originally published on Hand in Hand.

Here are a few thoughts about what helps the cycle of worry and exhaustion that can weigh us down, and erode our enjoyment of mother- and fatherhood:

• You deserve help. Don't stop working to organize it! Family, friends, other parents of young children all can provide a welcome break, or a word of encouragement about how your child is doing.

• You don't deserve anyone's criticism. Spoken and unspoken judgment can weigh on our hearts and minds, and wear us down over time. And parents are "free targets" in a way that would be unheard of for members of groups that have organized to protect their interests as a group. No one would think of going up to a senior citizen who was using a walker, and tell him that he should be doing his walking some other way. But people assume that a parent with a child who's whining in public should have a piece of their mind, or should at least have a disapproving glance. You don't have to accept poor treatment. You can set limits with other grownups--you do it all the time with your children. You have the right to take the stance that, "This isn't an easy day, and I'm doing the best that I can. If you want to help me, I'll tell you what I'd like you to do. If you are not going to help, then I ask you to keep your thoughts to yourself."

• You deserve time to debrief. Parenting takes a lot of thought and emotional effort! Someone listening to you, even if all you say is "I’m so tired!" over and over, will help. When our thoughts and feelings stay trapped inside our minds, they eat up our energy and keep us concentrated on our troubles. Saying what's on your mind, and showing the feelings you control all day long, is a big relief! Split 20 minutes of listening time with someone who can actually let you talk uninterrupted, and who will keep an attitude of respect for you throughout, no matter what your thoughts or feelings are. It makes a difference!

• You may need to address exhaustion. When you're so tired that resting doesn't really refresh you, you've become exhausted. At that point, it's hard to do anything but march in place, getting the most necessary things done. Your ability to solve problems creatively is at low ebb. What helps an exhausted parent is to try to relax near someone who cares, and to have that person be quiet and "watch over" you, while you either talk, or sleep, or just say how tired you are, over and over, and how hard it is to be that tired. Someone to watch over you makes all the difference. Exhaustion means that big feelings, usually of isolation or too little hope or no one really caring, are mixed in with the tiredness. Having someone care and watch over you helps with that emotional load. A good cry is often the result, either during a rest or some time thereafter. And that good cry can relieve the heavy feel of things. For some of us, the person we can call on is a partner, or perhaps a brother or sister, or a really good friend. For some, the relief of being alone after the children have gone to bed brings that sense of protected time, for others, a beloved pet, and for many, remembering a divine being. As long as we feel some love and caring coming toward us while we rest, we're on our way out of exhaustion. To set up this kind of respite time, we need to ask for exactly what we want--no one comes along to say, "You rest. I'll watch over things, and guard you for an hour." Perhaps friends should know to help with the exhaustion of hard working parents, but most people are shy to offer, or caught up in their own sagas. So we need to invite them to help.

The Bottom Line

The bottom line is that even on a day when we've been hard on our children or hard on ourselves, we've done the best that we could do! We may need to acknowledge that our best was pretty crummy today. And we certainly need to keep reaching to build good support for ourselves and for the work that's so important to us. But every parent can go to bed at night saying, "I did my best." And every child will wake up in the morning glad to be awake, loving his parents and eager for the best that we can do again that day!

Posted by Elizabeth at 5:44 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

In my continuous search for stories and strategies to support parents in challenging situations, I occasionally find an excellent resource. When I stumbled upon Patty Wipfler's piece titled We’re Doing Our Best, I realized that I’d found a resource that not only describes the feelings of our misplaced parental expectations but also offers some suggestions.

Reprinted by permission.

Part One

We're Doing our Best
by Patty Wipfler

I'm struck again and again by how hard each parent I know tries to do well by his child! We make great efforts, moment-by-moment and day by day. Once the efforts begin, we never stop caring. We never stop trying. We never stop noticing how we're doing. And we frequently worry about how our children are doing.

We make our constant effort to parent, without much chance to stand back and say, "Gee, it's going well!" "Isn't she going to turn out nicely!" "How strong and loving he is!" "They're bound to turn out just fine!" Matter of fact, most of us can't say that we're ever really sure that our children are going to be fine. And some of the time, we can't say that we're going to be fine, either! We push forward so often on low energy, little information, not much help, and too little patience, especially for ourselves.

We Have Reason to be Pleased

Here are a few of the things I think it helps to remember, in order to be pleased with ourselves at the end of the day.

Parenting IS hard work. It's wonderful, deeply moving, really challenging, and difficult. Difficult not because children are inherently difficult, but because:

• we're expecting perfection of ourselves in a situation in which we haven't been trained, coached, mentored, or assisted.
• it takes a lot of attention to stay flexible and patient with a young child for even a couple of hours.
• there are no "second string" players to call in when we, the primary players, are worn or sick or don’t know what to do.
• children have lots of feelings every day, and very few of us grownups have ever been clued in as to what to do with human emotion. Our only training has been to suppress feelings, and that tactic doesn't work well with children, or with us. Feelings come squirting out anyhow!
• our children have very high expectations of us and of life in general. We sense those high expectations, meet them as often as we can, and feel badly when we hit a hard patch.
• most of us didn't get the quality of attention and generosity that we're trying to give to our children. Our parents often improved greatly on the job their parents did, and their parents had improved on the job done with them. We can't see long-range success we're creating in the long chain of parenting effort that we're part of.

So parenting can feel really hard at times.

And still, it's the wonderful sweet center of our lives, and our love. Our children love us deeply, long to be with us, and see how special we are. They beckon us into play and fun that we wouldn't otherwise think to have. They give us permission to be silly, to be sweet, to be tender. They give us permission to love without limit. And we do. They thrive on our love. The relationships we build with them are precious.

Read Part Two , Breaking the Grip of Exhaustion, on February 1st.

Posted by Elizabeth at 5:20 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Read Karen's January story about Missy and the birthday party invitation on the A Wild Ride Web site.

Changing Views

When you have a disabled child, outsiders often see you, as the parent, tied to your child. And that perception colors the way they see her. Your child is viewed as dependent and incapable of relationships outside of you. Other parents may even make the assumption that your child doesn’t need relationships beyond his/her family. You may have even, unknowingly fostered those beliefs. Your child has experienced difficulties in life that most children haven’t. You’ve been protective and perhaps afraid of what will happen if you’re not there. But if you want a healthy child, you have to let go and let her have new experiences. And you can start by making a simple list.

List all of the experiences that her peers have, and then cross off those which your child has experienced. Chances are-what you are left with are activities that require your child to be without you. These are experiences that take place with peers. And they may be activities that you have little control over- activities that perhaps your child isn’t invited to or included in.

Let Go and Ask for Help

• Start with yourself. With your list as a guide, now it’s time to do some soul searching. Does your child really need you to be present at each activity? If the answer is “yes”, then mark that event off the list. But think hard before you do so. Of those left, are there some situations that can be handled by someone else, such as a parent at a birthday party?
• Now focus on your child. If your child were invited to a birthday party today, what accommodations would he need? Does he need to be reminded to use the bathroom? Is there a way that you handle her anxiety or his hyperactivity? What are the things that you do for your child that could be passed on to another adult?
• The hard part. Probably the most difficult part of being the parent of a child with disabilities is to ask for help. Parents, and certainly children, don’t realize that your child is left out of birthday parties or other social events. Share your concerns with your close circle of friends- tell them that you’d like your child to have the experience of going to birthday parties or other extracurricular activities. Seize opportunities throughout the year; talk with other parents at social, sports, or other informal events. Talk to your child’s teacher, her coaches and her daycare provider. As word spreads, your child will begin receiving invitations. But in the meantime, choose a friend or two who have children and ask if your child could be invited to their child’s birthday party or another activity. It may seem staged to you and it may feel uncomfortable to ask, but if you don’t take a chance with the expectation that people really do want to help, your child will miss out on a wonderful opportunity that will foster independence.

Communicating with Other Parents

Think through all the things that happen at a birthday party or other kid-event. Consider the food, the activity level and the expectations that will be put on your child. What can you do now to ensure your child’s success?

Communicate with the adult who will be present either by phone or in person. Start by saying how excited your child is to be invited. Next, go over what they can expect from your child. If your child needs to arrive early to get acclimated to the area, simply ask. If your child has idiosyncrasies that you handle in a certain way, share those. For example, if your child is in the habit of asking “why” a million times, tell the parent how you get around it. And certainly if your child has any dietary restrictions, share those. Bring along your own food if absolutely necessary. But remember, the parent responsible for the event will have a flurry of activity and responsibilities to juggle, so don’t go over every single aspect of your child’s personality. Share only those things that will most likely come up during the party. You don’t want your child’s presence to be a burden. So stay positive and keep it brief.

Keep it Going

Once your child is invited to one party, it is likely that he’ll be invited to others. But if that doesn’t happen, be ready to advocate for your child once again. Relationships outside of the school house doors are an integral part of growing up; they’re a rite of passage that no child should have to miss out on.

Karen writes for A Wild Ride and her own site Write Now.

Photo © Hallgerd - Fotolia.com

Posted by Elizabeth at 5:58 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This year, on the A Wild Ride Web site, our theme is What to Expect When Parenting Isn't What You Expected.

One of our readers had this to say about Expectations.

Elizabeth, I'm not seeing on the blog the consideration that parenting is harder than expected -- because our expectations are unrealistic! Sometimes I think our generation's sense of entitlement has indeed led us to want things to come easily to us. Maybe it's consumerism - or even feminism --that has inadvertently added to this to make us think we can/should have/do it all. All of the above!

Nurturing the skills for our kids to become their best selves is an amorphous, unpredictable process. It takes endless listening, flexibility, hope and maturity on our part. Strong cultural values and support don't really exist, so we're winging it. Sure puts a lot of stress on our frayed and overextended social networks! Ah, for the days when the elders would counsel us and the community would work together to raise the kids in the longhouse.

Nowadays, I think sometimes when we look for balance or "time for ourselves" we start to keep score instead. It might be more helpful to focus instead on the wonder of unconditional love and our capacity for giving. On honesty and trust in our relationships, and learning to identify and ask for the help we need. On forgiveness (ourselves, our spouses, parents, and kids) comfort (soup, chocolate, baths), and "the big picture" (spring is coming!) to see our way to real balance.

Over the holidays we spent time with my brother's family. Both he and his wife have dedicated but not high-paying careers (he's a craftsman contractor; she's a high school teacher) and they have two darling kids; a one year old daughter and three year old son. It's an intense time for them, with some visible stress evident at the seams. My holiday wish for them (and I can't really tell them but I can tell you!) is that they GIVE UP on some of what they're trying to do. Don't send the cards, do the tree, brine the turkey, go out with friends, keep the house spotless. Turn on the TV, buy a pre-made chicken, let the toys sit out awhile and sleep in with the kids in bed! Know that rules are guidelines, not rigid doctrines, and that as parents the main thing is to maintain your sense of humor.

I also realize it's more about acceptance than giving up...I am so aware right now that the kids grow up dang fast. The less you fight the unpredictability and accept being a mom or dad as a big part of your mission, the happier you are.

Posted by Elizabeth at 5:57 AM in Expectations | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)