I Am A Parent First

 

It is well established by now that being a special needs parent is challenging.

In our case, the food challenges can be utterly consuming of time and energy. Every bite of food must be considered carefully. Once the decision is made of what  to cook, then the method of cooking must be watched like a hawk, too, to ensure no cross-contamination occurs.

Spending hours in the kitchen means time; time that I can’t play with the kids, can’t simply enjoy their company.

Being so cautious about food in every respect means I spend a LOT of the time I am  with the kids telling them “no”.

“No, you can’t eat that.”
“No, you can’t take that into the living room.”
“No, your brother can’t have that.”
“No, you have to wash your hands before you touch anything or else your brother will get sick.”

Maybe I’ve spent too much time in the kitchen, not playing with the kids, too much time saying “no” to so many things that normal parents never have to say “no” to…because I think I’ve become a tad too permissive in other respects as a consequence.

Permissive enough that disrespect is starting to rear its’ ugly head in the demeanor of my children towards me.

Yesterday I had a rude ‘parenting awakening’.

Instead of waking us with his pleasant “We can go play in the snow?!” refrain, Jed started off the day yelling at me.

He bossed me around; demanded things. Despite the fact that we have consistently insisted on manners (he’s very good at saying “May I ______, please?”), I received nary a “please” for the first half hour we were awake.

Instead, I had a belligerent three year old screaming at me, “Mommy! I WANT CEREAL! NOW! YOU MUST GET IT FOR ME!” with clenched fists, a scowl on his face, and stomping feet.

Can I just say…OH HELL, NO.

Honestly, though, the first ten minutes I was awake, I wasn’t really ‘awake’, if you know what I mean. I didn’t immediately recognize the horrible disrespect being shown.

When I snapped to, however, Jed and I engaged in a battle that lasted almost the whole day.

I informed Jed in firm, borderline harsh tones, that he WOULD show me respect. That he was allowed to have an opinion, to say ‘no’ to me, but that he would do so courteously and nicely.

Jed, being three, fought back by trying to change the subject, yell at me some more, and bursting into hysterical tears.

I offered him breakfast: sausage and hash browns.

He didn’t WANT that breakfast. He wanted cereal.

He expressed that opinion not  by saying “Mommy, I don’t want that breakfast. I want cereal, please!”

No, he HIT the plate with his hand, knocking it halfway across the dinner table, and screaming in my face “I DON’T WANT THAT! I WANT CEREAL! ONLY!”

Mr. Jed had a rude awakening when I informed him that he would show me some respect, control his tone, and ask me nicely before he received ANYTHING to eat.

Ten minutes later, he still hadn’t eaten. He’d sat at his chair at the dining room table, crying hysterically, occasionally yelling at me or Darrel, while I cooked breakfast for myself and Zac.

Finally, thirty minutes after the battle began, he skulked off to our bedroom and lay on the floor in the doorway, sulking.

Having felt that my point had been made, and trying to remember that he is, after all, only three and a half years old, I went to try and ‘talk’ with him.

I asked him what was wrong. His response, “I’m upset. You are mean to me.”

“Yes, I was  mean to you. Do you know why?” I said. He stared at me. “Because you were being VERY mean to me. Nobody likes being talked to that way.”

I reached down to pick him up and he let me. He snuggled in, laid his head on my shoulder, and we returned to the dining room.

I asked him if he was ready to ask me nicely for breakfast. He sniffled, and said “No.” in a sulking tone of voice. So I said “Fine. I’ll be in the kitchen whenever you’re ready.” and deposited him in a chair.

Ten minutes later, he asked Darrel  for his plate of sausages and hash browns. Nicely.

He still hadn’t spoken to me.

But he ate most of his breakfast before coming up to me and SAYING (not screaming) “I want your drink!”

“How do you ask for the things you want nicely?” I retorted.

He bounced on his feet and looked, for all the world, like a child that REALLY didn’t want to comply, but in the end he said “May I have your drink?”

I just stared at him. “And?” I said. “What’s the magic word?”

“PLEASE!” he shouted with a grin.

“Yes, you may have my drink.”

And I wish that was the end of the story, but he continued to push at me all day long. I had to be consistently firm with him about his tone and his word choice in nearly every interaction we had.

It was exhausting.

On the plus side, at bedtime, instead of curling up next to Darrel as he usually does, he decided to crawl in on my side and fell asleep spooned up against me. That was the way we used to fall asleep every night before Zac came along and needed “Mommy real estate” for nursing purposes, so this was a delightful treat.

Some of you might read this and think “Geez, being a little harsh! He’s just a child!”, and some of you might read this and think “Well, he often gets belligerent when he’s fructosed, so maybe ease up a bit.”

Believe me, I’ve had those thoughts myself! In this case, though, we know he has NOT been exposed to any fructose, so this was pure, 100%, Jed being a jerk.

As for him just being a child, and a young one at that, well, who else is going to teach him how to treat others if not his parents? When is he supposed to learn this? At 9? 12? 16? 20?

I actually feel I’ve been a little slow at being firm about this; as I said, I’m often preoccupied with food issues and have a slack tendency towards other things due to having to be SO strict about our food 24/7.

I’ve been reading “The Happiest Toddler on the Block”, and while I agree with a lot of what I’ve read so far (I haven’t finished it), I must admit a sort of…mental tiredness at reading yet another self-help book on myself or my children.

In the end, those books are all a tad condescending, don’t you think? As if any person – regardless of age – can be summarized by a single 300 page thesis.

Children are smarter than we give them credit for, and they have very involved personalities from birth.

Jed is Jed. No more, no less. His personality is also, for better or worse, very similar to mine. When I interact with him, I clearly see my point of view, while simultaneously seeing the interaction through my own memory of being young and in his position.

Maybe that’s why I’m sometimes lax with him. I know where he’s coming from.

What I don’t want, though, is for him to suffer with the same challenges I faced from a young age. One of those was an…arrogance, a lack of respect for the people around me. The short version of why I was like that is that I am an only child to two people who desperately wanted children, so by his very existence, Zac will prevent a lot of that nasty personality trait from blossoming in Jed.

The rest of it, though, is up to me and Darrel as his parents. (For my part, my Flight Attendant co-workers knocked what remained of that trait out of me very quickly when I first started flying!)

Jed’s a really Good Kid. He’s bright, funny, exuberant, charming, sweet, and kind. But he’s young, and he feels things strongly at all times. There’s not much that needs to be majorly overhauled in his behavior or personality, but there is great room for fine-tuning.

Just because we have so many major food issues that preoccupy me at all times does not let me off the hook for that fine-tuning.

I may be an FPIES Parent (and a FructMal Parent), but first and foremost, I am a Parent. 

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Have you noticed that you sometimes “let things go” with your kids as a result of your special challenges? How do you keep yourself in line to be a consistent parent when your attention is diverted so?