In the Ongoing Complicated Relationship I have

One of the things I like about Radical Unschooling is word choice, which helps frame things in a kinder, more effective way. Children are not "being difficult," they are "communicating needs." Children don't "misbehave" they are hungry, tired, drained, still lacking mature communication skills.

I've learned a lot of things that help me understand why I struggle when certain relationship dynamics come up with some of my children. I've discussed a lot of them in this post where I also linked to a few earlier examples of me trying to navigate these murky dynamics with one of my children where I frequently end up demoralized, overwhelmed, and unhappy with how it went.

An aspect that my friend recently pointed out to me is his attachment style. I was complaining that it seemed like he has radar for when I'm depleted. And then he asks me for something. And NO. I'm depleted. I'm wiped out. Why can't he ask when I have energy?

And then I get into a whole thing. I can have boundaries. I can say no. And I can say no nicely. (Except I can't, because I'm depleted) and so I say it not so nicely and then he gets upset and then he pushes harder and then I feel both worse AND angrier. I feel worse because I guess he really needs it AND I feel angrier because I'm so depleted and why is he doing this.
We go round and round and eventually I say a grudging and angry yes (and feel bad because if I was going to say yes I would have preferred to say a generous and immediate yes instead of creating a situation where he feels like his mother is begrudging and annoyed). Or I say an angry No and feel awful that he's not getting his needs met.
Sometimes, if I am fortunate and notice this as it's building, I can change my No to be a kinder No OR I can skip a number of the me saying I'm tired and him pushing more and more intensely and I can just get it for him. But I still felt overall like none of these were great choices. I am glad I can be kinder and clearer in my No and yeah I still wish I could catch the dance a little earlier and make it a Yes if I'm going to anyway. But what is with him and me? Why are we doing this? Why does he need me when I'm wiped out and why do we keep having this fight over and over?

My friend suggested that it was actually EXACTLY when I am depleted that his anxious attachment gets triggered. He has to test to see if I really do love him. Right at that moment.

And of course, I often fail. And don't give him his needs. And that "proves" to him that he's right to be anxious. Because he can't get his needs met. It's a pernicious, unhappy cycle.

He has a feel for when I'm extra depleted and then asks for attention specifically in a way that is extra irritating. So then he is "right" that I "don't love" him.

Yes, to some degree it's staying on top of his love language (gifts) so he's not depleted which definitely makes things worse between us.

But also he davka has a nose for waiting for my depleted moments and that's when he "needs" me. And of course I was failing and he was "right."

So now, armed with that insight, when I see him do it I don't tell myself "He needs me and wtf I'm too wiped out now."
I tell myself "He needs me BECAUSE I'm wiped out now."

He's nervous and so he checks.

And it was perpetuating him being right he can't depend on me.

So now that I know that, I have been finding it easier to find it in myself to give davka when he asks davka when I'm most depleted.

Because that's the love he seeks: do you even love me now when you have no mental space/energy for me.

Now that I know that's what he's seeking, I expect it more and it's not as shocking and surprising.

It's in my awareness. Like on my Pesach mental list is: 'go through chometz, kasher kitchen, make menus, find time and energy for J at the exact moment when I'm about to crack emotionally' etc.

On Waking Teenage Boys in Time for Shema

I knew this was going to be an issue. It's a known scientific phenomenon that teenagers have a delayed sleep cycle. Science has recommended (unfortunately to little avail) that teenagers start school no earlier than 10:30am. Teenagers go to sleep later and wake up later. ("this sleep deprivation is due in part to pubertal changes in the homeostatic and circadian regulation of sleep." and "In this review of human and animal literature, we demonstrate that delayed sleep phase during puberty is likely a common phenomenon in mammals, not specific to human adolescents.")

Shema is earlier than 10:30.

Yesterday, my husband and I were discussing whether or not to wake up our teenager for Shema.

As I see it, the question is: What action now is going to most likely end up with an adult who wakes up and says Shema b'zmano (in time)?

The trouble is, either action we take has a risk:

• Wake him up, and he may get annoyed and rebel and resent and not grow up to say Shema.
• Let him sleep, and he may get the feeling that it is not a priority and doesn't really matter and we didn't make enough effort to express our values.

I believe that half the people in shul as adults attribute it to their parents nudging/pushing/encouraging/valuing it.

And half the people who hate shul blame their parents for nudging/pushing/nagging about it.

How do we know which personality falls into which half? We don't.

Honestly, sometimes I envy those parents who tell their children their values and their children follow those values. This is not my first rodeo and to stick with the metaphor, some horses buck. 

So for now we are taking the position that teenagers sleeping late is shogeg (violation via carelessness, not via intentionality) אנוס רחמנא פטריה (against his will unable to do the mitzva) for biological reasons and hope that in the future, when his circadian rhythms revert to more normal hours, he'll desire to say Shema in its time.

For now, when it comes up, we have conversations about davening where I try to explain the value of taking the time to think about these ideas at the beginning, middle, and end of the day.

Last week I read R' Soloveitchik's idea about tefila being an appointment with Hashem, and how you don't show up late to an appointment. Hashem generously made hours for the appointment.

My son commented that he personally would have tried to get an appointment for later in the day if he had a choice. 

As I was writing this just now, I asked him: "If there was a king, and you could speak to the king about your needs, and ask for anything, would you wake up early to do it?"

"Probably," he admitted. Pause. "But, if I were seeing the king every day..."

Nachas Note

Remember when it was too hard for me to leave the house with the boys?

Then covid hit and we haven't really tried.

Today we went to the dentist. Afterwards, the receptionist remarked, "You have really well behaved children."

Then she asked if they were homeschooled. "I saw you giving a lesson and I almost wanted to join in!"

She said it seems to her that homeschooled children have an easier time sitting still.

I said not really in the younger years, but in the older years not having to sit in school for so many hours does make it easier for them to sit.

When I conveyed the nachas to the children, Elazar said, "Give a lesson? You weren't giving a lesson. We were asking questions and you were answering them."

They were quizzing me about the stock market crash, the Great Depression, and I was explaining how WWII helped end the depression, and then Jack had some questions on why there is the Illuminati eye and a pyramid on the dollar bill.

And Elazar said, "I don't have an easier time sitting still." Which is true enough. But he did sit (well, pace quietly enough) while we were waiting.

The following is my probably inaccurate memory summarizing our conversation

This morning we had a little parent teacher conference about some aspects of bar mitzva readiness.  Ari was considering buying siddurim for each kid.  Notwithstanding that we already have 2 children's siddurs on the shelf (and boy #3 is often still asleep when I do tefila in the morning) that the boys already don't use, I didn't think it was a good idea to have the kids follow along while I daven.

Right now, I daven out loud.  They play video games and sing along when they feel like it.  I feel that having them follow along (or I even considered Elazar just standing next to me for shemona esrei and me being motzi him that way) would be excruciatingly boring for them and not confer any actual benefit.  I suggested that during Avos U'Banim, when Ari has the kids for learning, he work on reading Shema, Shemona Esrei, bentching and other brachos achronos. (And Asher Yatzer, which I forgot to mention.) 

The question is, will E be able to daven 3x a day with a minyan and a full davening?  If not, what is the bare halachic minimum?  Ari asked what about birchas Kriyas Shema.  I am singing them out loud to Elazar every day. (Not maariv, but shacharis.)  So he is becoming familiar with them.  I don't know that making him sit with an open siddur would help, and it can definitely pain him and make him miserable.  And if, at bar mitzva age, E finds he cannot focus on the whole thing and have kavana, and he hates it, then what do we recommend for him?  Just Shema and Shemona Esrei 2x a day.  Mincha just Shemona Esrei.  Bare minimum halachic requirements. 

Ari wants to make sure that E can count at a minyan.  To that end, he will need to know how to respond (amens, kedusha, kaddish, etc).  I suggested Ari go through that with him.  Is it better to do that at the minyan or outside the minyan?  (As I don't know, I leave that to Ari's discretion.)

Ari also felt that he had pushed E too much during Avos U'Banim.  I told him that I had discovered from my learning with E that he enjoys learning trope outside the context of reading and translating.  And he enjoys translating when he doesn't have to read (meaning you read the word to him and he translates) and he enjoys understanding the pesukim when you tell him the general translation but it loses enjoyment for him when he has to sit and decode a lot.  He'd rather each word or phrase in the pasuk be read to him, ask him what the words mean and have him answer/guess, then tell him generally as a whole what the pasuk means. 

I said that I think that not pushing reading and translating makes sense.  Because he enjoys other aspects of learning Torah.

• If you read it to him, he likes translating some of the words if he knows them
• If you sing him the trope, he likes learning and repeating the trope
• If you tell him what the pasuk means, he enjoys thinking about it

He does NOT like reading.  He does not like going slowly and translating it.  Will having him do that increase the likelihood that he will learn Torah in the future?

Will having him read and decode increase his future ability to learn Torah because he will have the skills?

These are important questions.  (Wish I knew the answers!)  It seems to me that focusing on the parts he enjoys and not pushing the parts that pain him will keep his learning positive and enjoyable.  This will increase the probability that he will learn Torah as an adult.

But what about his lacking skills?  Either he will be motivated to gain skills, or he will learn using translations.  My sense is that pushing the skills will more likely end up (in E's particular case) with him avoiding future Torah learning.

I said to Ari that I think focusing on the 3 types of learning that he enjoys above and avoiding what he dislikes will make him more likely to learn Torah by himself at age 25.  Ari said, "Really?"  

It's kind of scary to not do the "classic" educational stuff.  Will we be providing him with the education necessary to be a ben Torah?  

On the other hand, traditional education would be a disaster for this particular child.  We are already out of the box.  It's a tough line to figure out what is "pushing too hard" and what is "avoiding our responsibility to make sure he is capable of fulfilling his responsibilities."  What is he capable of and what is he truly not capable of?  What will foster a joy and love of Torah and what will push him away?  What can he really handle and what is a good idea for him to handle?

With so many kids who have gone through the school system being disinterested, not halachically observant, not having a strong emotional and spiritual relationship to Torah, and lacking skills, at least I feel I can't do worse than that with alternative education.  That's not a very high bar, though.

Radical Unschooling as a Philosophy and Way of Life

I came across this amusing video.  While I can definitely relate to a lot of what the kids do and how frustrating it can be, it made me realize just how much Radical Unschooling as a parenting philosophy has affected me. 

Some of the frustrations I've learned to frame in a different way so that they are less frustrating.  I've learned to understand children's nature so that I have different expectations.  And a lot of it is about communication--how a parent communicates things to children.  A lot of radical unschooling is about helping children understand things minus judgment, shame, or making them feel bad.  And the overall thing is how the mom walks around cranky and angry.

Believe me, I know that feeling.  There was once a comedian who described how his wife's face seemed to be stuck in a permanent sour sneer and I literally laughed until I cried when he explained the frustrations that led to that face.

As I was watching the crankiness and anger in this video, I noticed how radical unschooling philosophy has had an impact on my general attitude-- in how I feel about what the kids do, how I speak to them about what they do, and how much negative energy and crankiness I have about what they do.

video: [angry] Why is the floor so sticky?
how i hope to handle it: Guys! Please come here with a rag and spray!

[Full disclosure--in true hardcore radical unschooling, helping around the house is as optional as everything else.  So the kids have a right to say they are busy or even to refuse outright, just as they have that option when being told to learn xyz.  I'm not that hardcore, so we would probably negotiate that they finish doing what they are in the middle of doing and I'll remind them if they forget.]

video: WHO is responsible for these breadcrumbs, huh!?
hihthi: Hey, who ate here?  There are crumbs left
[Basically the same but I would like to prioritize a nicer tone, and the general concept that everyone agreed (which I only implemented when they were old enough to clean after themselves) that they can eat wherever they want on condition they clean up after themselves.]

video: [staggering comically under enormous pile of laundry]: There's no way I bought you this many clothes!
hihthi: [I konmaried a lot of clothes.  Their clothes are manageable amounts and the older ones do their own laundry if I don't get to it when they feel like they need it.]

video: You kids have WAY too many toys! Shut up, Buzz [to noisy toy]!
hihthi:[I put a lot of toys in storage; they have access to them whenever they want, but they are not out and about much.  We divided the room in half, i.e. compromise.  The point being to be strategic about it and to try a lot of different things, the same way you would with an adult you are sharing space with.]

Here's an updated photo of their space:

video: I can't do this anymore, I'm done! [scrubbing]
hihthi: Radical unschooling actually has a radical notion.  It's not just about the kids.  If you don't want to do it, then don't.  It's okay.  You can do it happy and wholeheartedly or you can let it slide.

video: Hey Billy, are you going to flush? Or are you saving this turd for later?
hihthi: Honestly, I laughed.  That happens all the time.  It's not too much trouble to flush or to give a shout out "Last person to use the bathroom, please go flush it."  I'm being nitpicky but I do think there is a tinge of shaming in the way it's phrased in the video.  I know it's a joke.  And maybe a lot of kids wouldn't mind that.  I personally prefer straightforward communication to sarcasm.

video: How did noodles get on the wall? Who missed their mouth that bad?!
hihthi: I laughed here, too.  Been there, done that.  How does food get there?  If the kid is old enough, I call them over (ideally in a pleasant tone) and ask them to get a napkin or a rag and spray.  And we clean it together.  Even a 2 year old can help.

video: [vacuuming in corner with hose extension with wild eyed expression]
hihthi: I can honestly say I've never done that in my life.

video: Who spilt the grape JUICE!
hihthi: call over kid, rag and spray

video: Oh, you guys have been watching slime videos again? That must explain the sticky floor.
hihthi: The kids make slime on a plastic tablecloth that they roll up after. (If you look closely at the above picture, they also duct taped plastic to the floor for easy cleanup for themselves.  I didn't tell them to do that.)

Jack's slime:

And the place where the glue spilled off the plastic:

So radical unschooling would be about making a space for kids to do their thing, about recognizing that these activities are extremely important for their learning/development/emotional/intellectual growth, and about being okay living in a space that has these types of mess because it is good for the kids.

Also, being angry about the sticky floor is a negative and shaming vibe that the mom gives off about the types of things the kids do, and resentment.  I know I'm being extremely harsh and perhaps overly sensitive about this.  But one of the things I've really loved about radical unschooling is about how it really changes the atmosphere in the home into something so much more pleasant for everyone.

video: Oh, one of the kids drew on the wall. Isn't that adorable! We have a little Picasso on our hands!
hihthi: I don't mind terribly drawing on the walls.  In the basement they are allowed.  We have magic eraser (and for a while, did not travel anywhere without it, since if there were writing utensils and we took our eyes off our kids, the toddlers drew on walls).  My house is not so pristine that drawing is a big deal.

My favorite drawing on walls situation EVER:

video: Oh, look at this! An open bag of chips!
hihthi: I think this is actually a huge chiddush that I learned from radical unschooling.  My children actually don't realize or don't think about how things get stale, how quickly they get stale, etc.  Instead of yelling or shaming them, it is astonishing how well it works to assume that they actually don't know or weren't thinking about it because they were involved in other things.  To say in a calm and kind tone, "Maybe you didn't realize or maybe you forgot" and to explain that when chips are left open, they aren't as tasty after.  And then show them how to seal it and supervise them so they know how to do it and help them out if they want or need help.

This has been transformative.  Giving information the same way I would give a friend information instead of snapping, yelling, or shaming has had an enormous impact on the pleasantness of our daily life.

I think snapping, yelling, and shaming make a kid curl up inside a little each time it happens. It makes them feel stupid or bad for doing things that are normal kid things. And it increases strife and a feeling of wanting to avoid interactions with the parent.  Why should our many, many interactions with our children be full of small needles of unpleasantness, unhappiness, and making them feel bad about themselves?

video: Who shoved GI Joe down the toilet?
hihthi: ::shrug:: We've had to call the plumber more than once for these kind of things.  That's how it goes.

basement take a bazillion

So Elazar was pretty happy with the no clean up policy.  And they've been crafting like fiends very happily.

But then.

Shabbos came.  And I didn't want football upstairs.  (Even though there is Yes Ball Playing in the House.)

But there was no place to play downstairs.  Because the floor is FULL of...garbage? Craft ingredients?  Whatever it is, it's not clear for ball.

A friend of mine suggested I partition the basement so they can both have their needs met.  Great idea! 

So today, I asked Aharon what kind of space he needs for tossing the football.  And then I told Elazar I'd be moving all his craft stuff to one area and he has to confine his crafts to that area.  He does not have to clean up his craft area.  But Aharon's football space must remain clear.  We duct taped Aharon's space (from one end of the room to the other, lengthwise).  

Hopefully this will work.  And if not, I'm getting used to adjusting to different needs in different phases.  We'll keep trying.

(The duct tape in the middle and the right is my path.  I'm graciously allowing my path to be included in the football area.  All crafts shall (hopefully) stay 

to the left of the line.)

How Things Roll

Last week, Ari brought in groceries and it's the kids' job to put the basement fridge ones in the basement.  We had a new gallon of milk.  I called the kids to put the milk away but 3 of them were playing a game. 



I don't like the milk being left out, and I was getting agitated.  It wasn't such a big deal for me to put it away, but I think it's important that I get help, or else I become a resentful, nasty person.

I asked where E was and he was outside playing.  I kept asking them to do it and they kept being in the middle of the game, and finally I got all huffy, snapped at the room at large, and stomped down with the milk.

When I got up, E had just walked in.  And I said, "NOW you walk in?"  He was utterly bewildered.

I was thinking this morning how glad I am that I'm not normally like this.  It's really unpleasant to live with a mom who is resentful, can't get her needs met, yells, stomps around, and gets angry like that.  I remembered a few major times over the course of my parenting when I did that, and different techniques I've used to change my habits.  (Including but not limited to: practicing controlling my temper, decluttering, changing my parenting style, reframing expectations, practicing straightforward and direct communication, simplifying my life so that I'm not overwhelmed, streamlining processes, thinking about long term affects of my behavior...)

This morning, Chen (teen) sat me down somberly and told me that she saw that E reacted with some shame when I yelled at him, and she felt that was unfair, since he did nothing wrong.  She told me she thinks that in general when I get intense he's particularly susceptible to feeling ashamed, and therefore she thinks I should make an extra effort around him to avoid speaking in those ways.  (Even though obviously it would be good if I could avoid doing it to everyone else, too.)

This is part of the trying to stop blaming thing that I've been working on since Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur this year.  I particularly noticed that it's been affecting Elazar. 

I thanked Chen (I'm blessed that she has a real gift for speaking to me about things in a way where I don't get defensive.  I think part of it is she watched me and Sarah during Sarah's teen years work so hard to de-escalate, and part of it is her natural ability and personality).  And she's going to point it out to me when she sees me do it in the future, and I'll try to cut down more.

I was thinking afterwards about how the unschoolers would approach this.  (Assuming they would agree that kids "should" help with the groceries, which they do not.)  The radical unschoolers have a way of looking at things very creatively.  So I realized if I absolutely wanted them to take the milk down later, and I absolutely could not let the milk stay out the 3 minutes until their game was done (which I could have, but I'm anal about milk in the fridge, which is my issue, and not the kids' problem), I actually could have stuck the milk upstairs and then when they were available, they would have been happy to run it down.  That would have been a decent solution.  Instead, I got resentful and mean. 

I'm glad I've been exposed to the radical unschooler way of thinking, even if I only could think of it after the fact.  I've had a lot of success running through scenarios in my head that went not well and figuring out what I could have done that would have worked better for me.  (Stick that on the list of techniques I use to change my habits..)

Best Use of My Time

I have to remember that conflict resolution is one of the most important things to me as a parent and homeschooler.  

Way back when my oldest was homeschooling, and I was trying to figure out how to manage my time and make decisions about what to teach, I did a "begin with the end in mind" approach where I thought about what things I wanted my adult children to have.  And then planned their education with that in mind.  

To recap, it was 4 things:

1. Basic reading, written communication, and math (I've since dropped math--they seem to figure out the basics of a calculator pretty easily)
2. A sufficient sense of responsibility that allows a person to hold down a job; i.e. show up on time and do your work diligently.
3. The capacity for satisfying and emotionally healthy relationships with a spouse, children, and friends.
4. A non-superstitious relationship to Judaism and Torah (I've since changed it to a love for Torah AND mitzvos, after some missteps in parenting during the teen years)

I've mentioned that physical fighting has gone down and we are seeing a lot of verbal disagreements with raised voices.  One of the things I've always loved about homeschooling is that there is time to slow down and handle these issues.  And what I love about unschooling is it seems like that IS the job.

So now I'm reminding myself not to get swept away by my own projects and the minutiae of running a fair-sized household and not to forget that when I hear the voices raised, I have nothing better to do than to go over to them or call them over to me, help them talk through the conflict, and learn and practice the tools to resolve it.

Math & Middos

Jack has no money left in his "bank account," the spreadsheet I use to keep track of their money. 

On Friday, we were driving.  He was angry and shaking my seat.  I said if he doesn't stop shaking it, he'll have to move to the back back of the van.  He didn't stop.  I told him to move.  He started screaming about moving.  I said that I'm counting to 5 and then I'm taking a dollar away from him.  He started moving.  I stopped counting.  He stopped moving and started screaming again about how he hadn't heard me warn him he'd have to move.  I finished counting and said he has to give me a dollar.  He started screaming that he didn't know I was counting.  I said I'm starting to count again, and then it's another dollar.

He moved.  He spent the next half hour screaming about how it isn't fair, he hadn't heard the first warning, he hadn't heard the counting.

He said that he was never going to give me any more money to put into his account, because right now it has negative one.  And if he puts money in, then I'll get a dollar from him.  But if he never puts money in again, it will always stay negative one and never get his dollar taken away.

I thought that demonstrated a pretty decent handle on how negative numbers work and I'll put that on the quarterly report.

On a side note, I may have mentioned (I looked for some posts but couldn't find--wait, I vaguely remembered something and searched "succos lollipops" and found this post) that Jack has a particular middah that I personally find challenging and end up getting into conflict with him about. 

My most recent attempt to deal with this was for us to talk in whispers when we begin to argue.  It's been pretty helpful because no matter how heated, it's difficult to escalate too much while whispering.

He gets into a mentality sometimes where everything is bad, or unfair.  He wallows, has a hard time getting out of being unhappy (he's always had trouble self-soothing from the time he was a baby and small toddler), and eventually he turns to grandiose solutions that are impractical or absurd, and gets even more furious when we won't implement them.  Or he focuses a lot of mental energy on the aspects of unfairness and how he is logically correct.

Because it triggers things in me, it's been difficult to parent this well.  I've tried valiantly and failed spectacularly on numerous occasions, often ending with me becoming verbally abusive.  My sister and I have gotten into more than one fight when she asked my why I was allowing him to carry on so aggressively and publicly.  (Note: she was right.  I got very defensive and we had more than one argument, but ultimately she stuck to her guns and I tried to open myself to what she was saying and she helped me process some of my conflicts and helped me focus on what types of boundaries were important to hold with him as he tantrummed and it was extremely helpful.  Having someone close to you watch you parent and give input, while painful, can be very helpful.)  Staylistening has been useful but has not addressed the basic middah.  I figured it's the kind of thing that hopefully if I don't make it worse, he'll eventually get the time and maturity to work through it. 

I've noticed an irony in parenting.  Lots of times as parents, we see a trait in our children that we think is negative.  So we try to "parent" it out of them.  But it's possible that if we just give them space and don't make it worse, then they'll end up being mature enough and emotionally healthy enough to manage it and navigate it as they grow.  (This I probably learned from radical unschooling.)  Shyness, for example.  Or "selfishness," I've seen, can be something that might need to be addressed, but it's also possible that selfishness is developed through a scarcity mentality and that being in a home with kindness and generosity will eventually lead to being kind and generous.  Or anger, which I used to think with my oldest that I needed to train her in self control, but it turns out that parenting with firm but kind boundaries and giving them space to have and feel the fullness of their feelings sort of ends up with them being able to manage their anger (well, the jury's still out on this one as my youngest seems to have an extra dose of my FOO's temper, and he's still young, so we'll see in ten years or so).

So I realized with Jack that it's important for me to be there as a loving presence while he goes through this complex wave of emotions.  And it's important for me not to "fix" it, and it's important for me to maintain the "no" while still being kind.  (That's where I often fail/ed.)  And it's important for him to have the experience of being so upset and grieving all the things that come up for him each time (life is unfair, his brother gets things and experiences he doesn't, he has no friends, his life is miserable, etc.) and to really have it be okay for him to be sad about all these things in a profound way, and for him to have the experience of it ebbing and him climbing his way out. 

I don't think it's useful for me to cajole him out of it, or coax him, or distract him, or try to fix it.  Those are all futile things we do in life with our own pain.  The best thing I can do for him is to be there for him as a loving presence that has confidence that these feelings will not destroy him and that he can and will feel them without the world ending.  And let him see that it does ebb and it is okay.

I had a recent epiphany.  I realized I was buying in to Jack's narrative.  I identify with him.  I agreed with him that it is a tragedy that his brother has more friends, has more fun, goes on more playdates, and gets more invites, more presents, more shalach manos.

It occurred to me that maybe it's not a tragedy.  Maybe it's just his chelek, his situation, and that learning to navigate his feelings and be able to tolerate the pain and pick himself up afterwards is actually a good thing.  Maybe even a better thing than having more playdates and more shalach manos.   

Sometimes it's nice to acquire more tools for the toolbox

So you think you settle on an approach, and then kids change, or what worked for one kid isn't working for the next, or you change, or you understanding things differently.

Lord knows I moan about being conflicted about unschooling vs teaching until even I am sick of hearing myself.

I want to talk about sibling rivalry for a bit.  When my kids were 5 or 6 years apart, there wasn't that much sibling rivalry.  When my kids were 2.5 yr and 17 months apart, sibling rivalry became part of my daily existence.  I've waxed eloquent about the bullies2buddies methods and how useful they are.  He gives actual scripts to use, which have been very helpful.  I've even written to him with questions and he has helpfully written back.  I stand by this method and I really love it.  I combine it with playful parenting, which means that I try to take aggression as a cue that they need active and playful wrestling/roughhouse type attention.

I have found this to be more robust and more fun and efficient than what I used to do in my twenties, which was to sit the kids down and have them make eye contact and share their feelings and take turns speaking and make sure they both have a chance to talk and feel they are being heard and brainstorm for solutions. (It even is exhausting to type that up.)

And then.  

I'm in a radical unschooling group.  You think I'm unconventional? :-D I don't qualify as a radical unschooler.  These people are fully committed to unschooling not just academically, but as a way of interacting with their children in every way.  This affects bedtime, meals, discipline, and all sorts of areas.  Some of the underlying principles are abundant generosity and respecting your child as a human being.

So I'm reading with interest, and they start talking about sibling rivalry.  Here is a link (with further links on the bottom of that page).  What sparked my interest is how many of them expressed that leaving the kids to deal with things on their own was not something they would do.  A lot of unschooling (contrary to popular assumption) has pretty hands-on parental involvement, having the parent there coaching, helping, empathizing.

Since this is exactly not what bullies2buddies advocates, and since I am apparently exceedingly defensive and a glutton for punishment, I kept reading.

The truth is, even using bullies2buddies I do keep a fairly close eye (looking for these factors).  But I have heard many people speak about how they felt that they were brutalized by unequal sibling situations (my own sister included, with me being the manipulative and obnoxious older sister), so I wanted to see what advice there was.

What I got from it (though it generally astounds me how much I don't grasp in the first few readings of things) is, like the other radical unschooling principles, to approach their conflicts with a genuine desire to hear both children's needs and a strong desire to help them get their needs.

Obviously, in a sibling rivalry situation, two sets of needs are in conflict.

And I still use bullies2buddies in the sense that I don't go to them or stop them while they are fighting.  I'm usually sitting in the same room or close by, and they know they can come to me.  I still use a lot of the same scripts from bullies2buddies.

But now there is an added component.  I really try to understand what is deeply upsetting to each child (as opposed to in the past, where I was mainly focused on finding solutions.  Yes, I empathized, but I never get really worked up about lego like they do).  I hope this attempt to understand naturally gives them the sense that their needs are valued by the family.  I think it gives a different tone to the arguments.  There is a sense of "both of your emotional/practical needs are important.  What can we do?"

This played out a bit yesterday when (naturally, just about 10 minutes before I had to get ready to go to work), Jack came in screaming that he had a lego set that he couldn't build last year, but THIS year he can, but Elazar made a fidget spinner with an important piece.

Basic bullies2buddies script, I didn't get involved, I agreed with Jack that he has rights over that piece.  Jack left.

In comes Elazar, blazing in fury that Jack just took his fidget spinner and broke it.  No warning, no discussion, just grabbed and broke.
Well.  I agree with Elazar that this, too, is unfair and upsetting.

Looking at this in the framework of the radical unschooling, I perceived that both of them make perfect sense.  Both of them have claims.  Our goal is a peaceful, happy home for all members of the family.

Perhaps this is obvious.  It was not obvious to me.  It was not clear to me to view conflicts or sibling rivalry in the framework of a goal of having a peaceful, happy home for all members of the family.

As I said before, obviously not all members of the family can be peaceful and happy at all times.  By definition, if there is more than one person, then there will be conflicts.

But I don't know that it was ever so clear to me to enter conflicts with the idea that each person's peace and happiness is a priority to us.  So if there is a way to work it out and that increases your peace and happiness, that's what we are trying for.

When that is the goal, peace and happiness becomes an abundance mindset, not a scarcity mindset.  Everyone becomes more generous because there is a security that the family goal is as much peace and happiness for every individual as we can work out.

So Elazar agreed that Jack had the rights to take the piece back.  He objected to the manner in which it was done.  I asked Jack to look at Elazar and for Elazar to say how he feels while looking at Jack.  Because Jack knew that his claim of the piece was protected, he was able to look at Elazar and hear his pain and see the effect it had on Elazar that he took the piece so abruptly and without discussion.

Part of the abundance mentality is that Jack readily agreed to rebuild Elazar's fidget spinner.  And to even improve on it so that it worked.

A follow up blow-up occurred when Elazar was not satisfied with how Jack fixed it.  (I even overheard Elazar say to Jack, "Should we work this out later?" because they were in the middle of cleaning up the neighbor's playroom when this argument went on.)

Again, the goal of peace and happiness for everyone is such that Jack agreed to keep trying until he found something that satisfied Elazar.  But it was also agreed by everyone that the original piece--belonging to Jack--was not an option and if that was the only piece that would satisfy Elazar, Elazar would have to compromise.  Jack did try and Elazar did graciously accept a lesser vision of his fidget spinner (albeit one that functioned better).

Chinuch in the Teen Years

My boys still refuse to wear tzitzis.  They aren't comfortable; they scorn even the soft cotton ones.  I've been thinking a lot, having been through the teen years with my oldest and now going through them with my second.  And it's really changing how I'm thinking about parenting the boys in their teen years.

I was talking to a dear friend of mine who parented 5 wonderful boys and her sixth is a girl.  As I was talking to her about girl teenagedom and mother-daughter relationships, she said to me that it's too bad she'll have gained all this knowledge from parenting her daughter through her teen years and then she won't have another girl to parent with the benefit of this knowledge.

I half joked: "Take it from me--it doesn't help."  But that's not strictly true.  Some of the lessons I learned with Sarah: how to de-escalate during conflict, how to take a step back, take a deep breath, how to shift my tone and my body language out of "bristling" and into "listening" mode; how to assume that if they say I'm yelling at them or if my tone is aggressive, then to dial it down, whether I think I've been aggressive or not; how to cool down from an encounter and then later, when we are more calm, ask her to please explain her position and really, really try to listen without explaining where I'm coming from-- all of these things have only been helpful as I stumble through these years with the next teenager.  However, with each child being so different, and the challenges being so very, very different, I am often just as much in the dark now as I was the first time.

I simultaneously grapple with major issues (as people always used to say, which I never really understood, "little people, little problems; big people, big problems"), while I am also very immersed in little people and the drudgery of caretaking.  I have the experience of parenting littles while having an awareness that within the decade, the boundless desire for them to be in my personal space and have me share their lives is going to shift into the desire to separate from me, to individuate, to reject me, my values, and everything I stand for in clarification of where they stand on things.

This has gotten me thinking about a lot of things that I never realized would be an issue with boys.  Growing up a girl and feeling the burden of halachic modest dress and later covering hair, I never realized that boys grapple with minyan, waking up for shema, wearing tzitzis and covering their heads all the time.

When I was a young and naive parent, I assumed that at bar and bat mitzva, my child would joyfully pick up the "עול מלכות שמים" the yoke of mitzvos.  My daughters would dress with skirts to knees and shirts to elbows, and would daven every day and make brachos before and after meals, and their newly bursting intellects would enjoy the wondrous Torah that we would learn together.

Well.  Suffice it to say, reality is different.  Even with Chana's (not so) recent transfer into full nocturnal, along with recent studies that say that teenagers should start school not before 10am made me realize that in a few years I'll be heading into a monumental battle, especially with my middle son, who has naturally preferred a 10pm-10am sleep schedule since he was two years old.

I've observed teens AND adults fully grown, those who attend minyan regularly and those who don't.  Of the minyan go-ers, some tell me their parents instilled it in them, and some tell me they came to it themselves.  Of the non-minyan go-ers, a huge percentage tell me that their parents pushed and annoyed them.

Personally, I feel that telling my teenager what to do is generally an exercise in futility, frustration, and conflict. (To a large degree I feel that telling any of my children what to do tends to devolve into that, which perhaps is why I gravitated towards unschooling, which has a different approach to that whole issue.)  However, I also feel strongly that the internet exerts a very strong pull on the concept of identity and values, and although my teens are smart and skilled at analysis and tend to make good decisions, I want our family values and our Torah and Judaism to be one of the voices in the conversation.  As I may have mentioned before, when I consulted with my Rabbi, he suggested that I take opportunities to share my thoughts and values in conversation, and stay away from nagging and being annoying.

More recently, I've been thinking about my own upbringing.  I was brought up "Modern Orthodox," and when I stopped wearing shorts and began covering my hair when I got married, I crossed over into the land of "crazy""strict" according to my parents, even though I had studied the halachos in school and considered them to be as binding as the laws of Shabbos and kosher that I had grown up keeping.

Modesty was something my mother cared about in terms of the spirit of it, not in terms of halacha.  We wore shorts to midthigh and went swimming in bathing suits; very tight shirts and dresses were our battlegrounds and it had nothing to do with halacha.  My mother rarely told me to daven; davening was between me and God.  Brachos were between me and God.  Everything was between me and God.  I decided what I wanted to keep and how much and what I really thought.  My parents didn't have much opinion except being extremely supportive of my education and my Torah study.

My approach until now, which was to be mechanech my children to keep the Torah so that they will be keeping Torah halachically when bar or bat mitzva, did not take into account the complexity of teens wanting to figure out for themselves who they are and where they stand.  It didn't account for the fact that they often use their parents as a safe space to push against as they discover themselves, as the book Untangled describes with a pool metaphor--we are the walls of the pool and we need to be stable and be there as they push against us to swim, and come back to us to take a rest and breathe, and push against to go swim again.

And inserting myself into the ruminations doesn't seem to be useful.  If a person is grappling about halacha and God and values and restrictions and meaning, isn't the grappling simply about that person thinking about those issues?  What possible good can it have to throw into the mix their complex and conflicted relationship with their superego/parent?  Waking up for minyan and going to shul should be about the question of tefila and being part of the tzibbur; is it a value to have the person also grappling about whether this act is going to please or annoy the parent?

(One might say that there is a value in doing things to please the parent, as per Yosef Hatzadik seeing the image of his father and refraining from adultery with the wife of Potifar.  I don't disagree with that.  But it does seem to me that me pushing for certain halacha observance during the teen years does muddy and cloud their thinking and grappling unnecessarily.  They get distracted thinking about halacha observance vis-a-vis parental opinion instead of it just being about their values.)

They need to get used to...

Elazar and I are now in a groove where I read him a chapter every night.  After me being concerned about TV always being a thing before bed, unschooling won out and he asks for the book.  Note to self: relax.

We are reading Danny, Champion of the World (which interestingly, references the BFG).  I LOVED it when I was a kid and frankly I'm finding it a bit dull now.  Elazar is content enough with it (doesn't love it like Pippi).  I think the Great Brain came in to the library so maybe when I pick it up we'll give it a whirl.

Chana is having trouble adjusting to her current schedule.  As you know, we haven't gotten back into Bio.  I think her schedule is pretty decent: Monday is a chill day (which she needs, after the social Shabbos), then Tues/Wed she has morning class AND my class.  Wednesday she chose to have lunch and club at school and the strain is telling on her.  Waking up for morning class 2 days in a row and having a day from 9:30-3:00 is pretty excruciating for her.  Thursday is half a chill day, since she just has my class and it's pretty late in the day.  But most weeks, by Wednesday, she's ready to crack.

I think this happened to her last year, too.

People who send their kids to school are usually horrified at this point that I'm even considering her difficulties.  Life is hard, they have to get used to it, most kids (especially in Yeshiva and her age) are out of the house almost 12 hours a day, how is she going to cope with real life, she needs to learn she needs to learn she needs to learn...

I've said numerous times that they don't actually "need to learn" or "get used to" these things.  A homeschooler who has emotional maturity is capable of doing what needs to be done.  And Chana has shown herself capable of going to class even if she doesn't want to.

The question is, is there a point?

Chana has always been a night owl.  In first grade she preferred to do her work after 8pm.  Jack, too, at age 2, preferred a 10pm-10am schedule (I'm trying not to future-think, but I am concerned about zman kriyas shema.  Though perhaps my worry energy would be better off directed towards trying to raise a child who desires to say shema...).

I have recently read a couple of articles saying that science is seeing how acutely painful it is for night people to be made to function in the morning.  I personally am a morning person and my productivity is shot after 8pm most nights.  (Just when Chana is getting started...)  Is it true that Chana needs to "prepare herself" for a 9-5 job when statistically, unschoolers prefer to live more frugal lives so that they can do more meaningful work suited to their taste that pays less money?

Sometimes I feel like I hear two competing views echoing around me (I know, only two?  I'm lucky).  One opinion is that teens don't know what's best for them; they are impulsive creatures who make poor decisions, they need structure and they need their parents to firmly put their feet down.  Another opinion is that teenagers are mature and wise, they are capable of amazing things, give them their space and their freedom and always keep an open dialogue and listen carefully to their opinions and thoughts.

I've experienced both.  I've been completely confused by the paradoxes of teenage-hood.  I struggle with my role as mentor and guide to what is basically an adult.

Sometimes it feels like the problem is if I go in the direction of firmness when what is actually needed is bending, I make the problem much, much worse.  And the converse is also true: If I go in the direction of bending when what is actually needed is firmness, I also make the problem worse.  When I spoke to my Rabbi about it last year, he suggested I "walk the tightrope."  Nudge, but don't nag.  If I'm being annoying, then drop it.  Have frank conversations where I share my views and seek to understand hers.

Anyway, this reminds me of why Chana and I embarked on unschooling in the first place.  When her learning is arranged around her emotional and physical nature, Chana is amenable and a pleasure.  Our homeschooling has been an utter joy filled with incredible learning.  When things are off, though, she becomes grouchy, reluctant, angry, quick to fight authority, and her mind isn't as receptive to knowledge.

We will see how this plays out.

Automatic Yes instead of Automatic No

Something that I began to do when I was a very new parent, almost twenty years ago, when Sarah was a toddler, was to begin questioning every "No" that was about to fall from my lips.  Sarah was inquisitive; always moving, touching, tasting, going.  Being a parent was a new experience, and I was learning on the job and seeing what I could learn about it as I was doing it.  And I found that a lot of times my gut was just to say "No, don't do that."  But then, when I thought about it, I wondered, "Why? Is that really a problem?" and it turned out it wasn't really a problem.  (Although I have always been particular that my children be makpid about other people's homes, belongings, and personal space.)  Can they climb up that?  Sure, if I spotted them to make sure to be there to catch them if they fell.  Can they taste that?  Well, I suppose so--it's disgusting but it's not poisonous or dangerous.  (In retrospect, the crumpling of the styrofoam is not something I care to repeat because the cleanup was pretty difficult.)

It became something of a habit for me to say, "No.  Oh--wait a minute.  Yeah, I don't see why not."  I would think about reasons not to and if they just made me uncomfortable but weren't actually dangerous, then I would agree.  I got more used to saying, "Well okay, but I'm worried about the mess.  Will you help me clean up afterwards?"  And most things they did weren't bad, and it gave them freedom, and they got to follow their curiosity, and they learned a lot, and things were either just fine or they discovered it was distasteful for themselves, and really, why should they trust me that something is yucky?  Let them decide for themselves.

I recently joined a radical unschooling group on facebook, which a. made me realize I'm not 100% radical unschooling and b. reminds me of a lot of very loving and kind parenting practices that unschoolers have.

So we were on the beach today, and we were fortunate to see some fishermen seining.  And we looked at all the little fish they were catching as bait.  And they were kind enough to give all the kids some fish for their buckets.  And some of the fish died.  And Jack asked if they were kosher.  And we looked for fins and scales, and there were.  And the man happened to have explained to my mother-in-law to pinch off the head and squeeze out the guts and fry it.  And Jack asked if he could take them home, and I said No.  Because even though I don't say an automatic No anymore, the time Elazar brought a dead crab home still resounds in my olfactory memory, even though he left it outside.  And then when Jack asked if he could bring them home and eat them... I said ok.

Postscript to Unschooling: Putting my money where my mouth is

I meant to include this in the unschooling post.  I often feel somewhat bad that I don't read to my boys very much.  Reading To Your Children and Family Dinners are two areas where I don't get to nod satisfyingly as I read all the articles touting them since I'm Doing The Right Thing.

We've gotten into a terrible habit at bedtime which is that the boys like to watch TV before bed.  The reason this is terrible is because time before bed is a great time for intimate conversation, feelings that we've been avoiding all day coming up, answering questions about how things work and life philosophy, and reconnecting.  All of which is neatly avoided by watching Rabbids Invasion or Bloons TD fighting M.O.A.Bs.
The reason this habit came about is because I was thoroughly overwhelmed at bedtime for many years, was out of patience and energy, and was negotiating with my husband to the point where we would play chicken as to who would fold first and not be able to stand it and put the kids to bed (which often missed the window and headed into overtired) and eventually evolved into an extremely rigid schedule based on our evening activities, and eventually morphed away from that as the kids' bedtimes shifted around.

The point being that sometimes I have the energy to follow through on all the things that I feel are "important for their development" and sometimes I feel like I'm negotiating with myself for sanity and I have to make extreme choices about what to drop (read Greg McKeown's book Essentialism for more about that).  And philosophically I shift between "this is a pleasant life" and "relax, everything is fine" and "you need to be on top of those things."  It's a continuum and I feel different degrees of joy, comfort, and anxiety at different times.

So on Friday night I decided, Hey, won't it be nice if I read them a book?  That will stop the maniacal fighting and boundless energy and we can read! And it will be wonderful!

I went and got Caddie Woodlawn, which I adored as a child.  And The Secret Garden.  Elazar, age 9, adhd, was willing to listen.  Jack, age 6, and Aharon, age 5, were a disaster.  They were fighting and giggling in that "we want attention and won't let you read" way.  So I ended up giving warnings and then disciplining and this is pretty much exactly what I don't like to do.  I think I realize now why I avoid this.

I did stop the Secret Garden and switch to Pippi Longstocking.  Aharon was not allowed to sit on near us, so of course he desperately wanted to, and tried to sneak quietly next to us, which was okay with me but not okay with my law-abiding 6yo... But Pippi was a better choice.  Ironically, our lives are a bit closer to Pippi's because we are unschoolers.  Elazar was riveted.

So I have one kid that will love reading.  And one kid that might be able to tolerate it, but the third is wreaking havoc in reading time.  How do parents get their little ones to sit during reading?  I feel sure I've heard of this phenomenon.

I asked Elazar last night if he wanted me to read more to him, and he did.  He fell over laughing when the children asked Pippi who tells her to go to bed and said she tells herself once nicely, and if she doesn't listen, she tells herself much more strictly, and if she still doesn't listen, she's in for a spanking.

First do no harm

I've noticed a bit of a shift in my parenting attitude.  When my oldest cried, I was always trying to do what I could to stop the crying.  Crying was bad (or at least, it felt "bad" to me, and I think we are biologically programmed to react that way and that contributes to the preservation of the species) and I just wanted to make it "better."

I'm sure a lot of experiences and influences contributed to me viewing crying as opportunities to help my children exercise certain muscles.  Muscles like "accepting that things don't go as I want" or "feeling the full depth of my pain" or "experiencing pain while someone who loves me conveys to me that it is okay."

- I remember being petrified when pregnant with my second child that I just don't know how to cope with all that crying and realizing I don't have to try to stop the baby from crying, I can just hold her as she cries and that's okay and it will pass, be it in hours or when she finally gets old enough to talk.

- I remember grieving my mid-trimester pregnancy losses and seeing how grief was waves and waves of anguish, and I had to be kind to myself and allow myself to ride the waves of grief as they came, like the different cries of the shofar.  And I noticed my toddler also wailed like that and needed the same thing from me.  That people aren't allowed to be sad and they need to be allowed to be sad.

- I remember seeing my children stomping in anger and demanding things and me thinking, "This child is a spoiled brat."  And realizing that this is actually an opportunity for them to not get what they want and internalize the experience of being told No with kindness and patience and firmness.

And now when my children cry and I am fortunate to not be overloaded emotionally, mentally, or physically (hahahaha no seriously) then I can actually view these situations as parenting opportunities.  Just like I view conflict with my pre-adolescents and teens as opportunities to model and to practice relationship skills when I'm not too furious.

So Jack (6) has a middah (character trait) that I've noticed for a while that concerns me.  It came to my attention a couple of years ago with him getting fixated on a package of lollipops that I finally agreed to buy him for Succos but I bought it 3 days before and for those 3 days, he couldn't tolerate not having them.  He was young and couldn't think that he would get it soon (though this is the same kid who saved up money for over a year to buy a DS when he was 3).  He just got very focused on the unfairness of it and ("unfair" being a code word for "not what I want") and kept proclaiming that if I won't give him that, then he deserves something else, and he suggested various things.  This went on for days.  The fixation disturbed me, the incredible length of time disturbed me, and the notion that it will only be okay if something he deems of equal value is given to him disturbed me.

My latest parenting approach to these kinds of things can be described as: Chill out, see how it goes, try not to make it worse.  (I have unfortunately discovered that so many of my reactions simply do make things worse, and "First do no harm" keeps my hands full.)

So today when Elazar asked to go with the neighbors to the candy store, and Jack remembered that Elazar had gotten to go last time the neighbors took someone (they have room for one person), and Jack fixated on this, I realized it was a great opportunity to ride the wave of the fixation, to feel the pain, to not change the situation.  I was there for him, I was compassionate, I was firm that he wasn't going.  He shortly moved on to his coping mechanism, which is to suggest other things that he felt would satisfy him and would be equivalent.  Fine, so he should be able to buy a game for his tablet.  I said no.  Fine, so he gets my computer.  I didn't answer him the first few times because that's absurd.  But when he persisted I said no.  Fine, so he hit and kicked me.  I asked him if he wanted to wrestle.  I can't remember exactly how the morning played out.  But a few times he came back, upset about it, and we went through his disappointment, him trying to change things, me staying firm.  He's older now than a few years ago and his rational faculty is more developed; he doesn't get as stuck in his upset-ness as he used to from 2-5.  And he's out playing now.

I'm grateful to homeschooling that my first grader has this time to go through this emotional experience.  I'm not rushed and we don't have to be anywhere or do anything else.  Ten years ago it was stressful for me to choose emotional development over academic education.  I often worry about academic achievement. (Probably unnecessarily.  See how I can't even commit and I say "probably"?)  But this morning it is clear.

Book Review: The Explosive Child

The book The Explosive Child by Ross Greene was recently recommended to me.  It is, according to its subtitle, a new approach for understanding and parenting easily frustrated, chronically inflexible children.

At first glance, I didn't really feel like I especially needed this book.  My 8yo who has ADHD does tend to be very tunnel vision (if you want to call that inflexible) when he gets an Idea.  And my 4yo does explode in temper numerous times a day, but I have noticed that when I respond gently to his explosions, he calms down fairly quickly, once he realizes his concerns and needs will be met.  Homeschooling allows us the flexibility and time to work with frustration and inflexibility, so I didn't think it would be so relevant.

Boy am I glad I read this book.

I love a book that tells me a truth that resonates deep in my heart.  That when I read it, my soul whispers yes, that is true.  That clarifies something I suspected or vaguely felt, but now that I read it, I can see absolutely that I didn't really understand that truth before, and now I see the world differently, and a little bit more accurately.

The Explosive Child did that for me.

It starts with the premise that the classic way of approaching discipline: conditioning.  Where you reward the behavior you want to see, or punish behavior you want to stop.  Personally, I'm a pretty big fan of conditioning.  But this book talks about the cases where conditioning doesn't seem to work.  Where the threats and punishments and reward charts don't seem to be effective.*

The first huge lightning bolt is the notion that the explosions and tantrums are not actually all the time and unpredictable.  They are, in fact, highly predictable once you put some thought into it.  That, itself, is a game changer.

Then the book explains the most startling and simple concept that shifted my entire perspective.

Don't get bogged down on the disturbing behaviors.  That means the tantrums, the kicking, biting, punching, pinching, screaming, knocking over furniture, hitting, etc.  We've been misunderstanding the problem.  I thought the problem is that my child pinches and bites and shrieks when he's upset.  That is not the problem.  That is the behavior that he exhibits.

So what is the problem?

The books sends parents to a checklist on a website and gives directions to uncover what the actual problems are.  But let me list a sampling:

- has trouble with transitions
- has trouble coping with frustration
- has trouble thinking straight when angry
- has trouble verbally expressing strong feelings
- difficulty adapting to changes in plans
- difficulty managing time
- difficulty seeing consequences of actions
- difficulty seeking attention in appropriate ways

You can immediately see a huge paradigm shift.  The problem is NOT the behaviors.  The problem is whatever skills the child is lacking, and the solution is to help them navigate these issues.

The book has turned a frustrating, hopeless situation completely around.  And the solution is much more compassionate and productive than I could have imagined.

The rest of the book walks us through how to have productive conversations with our child so that we can uncover specifically which difficulties they are having with the tasks that cause the meltdowns. One of the features, brainstorming with your child, I am familiar with and have practiced from How to Talk So Kids Will Listen by Faber and Mazlish.  But the reframing of difficult behaviors so that I now see them as an indication of lagging skills is something that I think every adult who deals with children can benefit from.  I can hardly believe I didn't understand this before now.  And I'm sorry I didn't.  Because every child who has lagging skills and therefore is exhibiting "difficult" behavior deserves our compassion and our help.




_________________
* I have to admit, it did cross my mind many times with my ADHD child that normal means of discipline were practically ineffective with him.  (I used a different approach, which I can detail at another time, which I was pretty happy with.)  So it was intriguing to read about an approach that acknowledged that "normal" discipline wasn't working with some kids.