April 17, 2006
hide-and-seek
This morning, Charlie and I were sitting on the benches outside Henry’s school, waiting to pick him up. Another mom was there with her toddler; he and Charlie were checking each other out while the other mom (someone I know only from seeing at carpool pickup and the occasional music program) smiled politely at each other. Her son licked the bench, and she reprimanded him, and then explained: “He is pretending to be a puppy. He goes around licking EVERYTHING.”
“We do that, too,” I told her. “It’s disgusting.” We both laughed.
It’s hard to explain how labor-intensive my children are; parents of quirky kids like Henry innately understand, and parents of typical kids like Charlie just can’t. I don’t say that with any resentment or anger, it’s just a fact. It takes so much time and effort and energy to parent my kids these days. We are trying to encourage (read: compel) Henry to stop obsessing about superheros and get interested in other things because his single-mindedness is causing some social and behavioral problems. But redirecting him takes a lot of work; if he’s left on his own, he always falls back on superheros. So I try to plan what we will do next–play outside (not superheros!), build with blocks (not superhero headquarters!), read stories (not Spiderman!). And no matter what we’re doing or playing, eventually he will start to talk about superheros, and my job is to redirect the conversation. Of course, this means that Charlie gets ignored or has to play what Henry is playing, even though he’s perfectly capable of playing on his own without any direction.
Last week, when I told the speech therapist that we were concerned about Henry’s superhero obsession because of the way it was interfering with his play, she said, “Well, YOU’RE the parent.”
I was stunned; was she implying that his hyperfocus was MY fault? That I wasn’t parenting him the “right” way? When I told Wade, he said that it pointed to her inexperience with kids like Henry, not any fault of my parenting, and I think he’s right. But it’s still irritating, in part because there is a grain of truth in it. Part of my job is to help Henry learn how to play; part of my job is to constantly redirect him. It’s the part I am coming to hate the most.
So today, when this other mom and I were laughing about our children and their puppy dog tongues, she said, very nicely, “Do you work, or do you stay home?”
“I stay home,” I said.
“Do you miss working?”
Without hesitating, I said, “Yes. I really do. The older my children get, the more I miss it. Yes.”
She nodded. “Because they need us so much less as they get older.”
And I wanted to say, no, because they need me so much MORE. And because I need me so much more.
Charlie is going through a funny little baby love phase. The other day I took the boys to a restaurant for lunch; while we were waiting for our food, another family came in, with a toddler who was probably 18 months old. He came totting by our table, twice, and Charlie watched him, fascinated. The second time he came by, Charlie waved and said, “Hi!” and then, as the little boy totted away, Charlie said, “He’s so CUTE!” Today, at the zoo, we passed another toddler in a stroller; Charlie said, “I see a baby! Look how CUTE she is!” I am amazed by his attention to smaller kids, by his gentleness and fascination.
A lot of the time, Henry seems disconnected from the rest of our little family, in his own world, but then, out of nowhere, he will have an almost inappropriately intense response to something. Like missing Kinderfit on Wednesdays. He cried the entire way home from school today, and for half an hour after, because he doesn’t want to go to speech therapy any more. I’ve been trying to help him understand why he has to go, why he has to have the special applesauce in the morning, why he’s not going to school in the afternoons any more. I’m not very good at it, this explaining. And it breaks my heart when he cries like that.
We played outside this afternoon until it was too hot to move, and then came inside. Henry was asking if he could play superheros, but before I could say, no, let’s play something else, he said, “Let’s play hide-and-seek!” And I remembered my friend Cheryl saying that she loves to play hide and seek with her sons because it gives her ten or fifteen minutes of peace and quiet while they search for her. “Sometimes,” she said, “I fall asleep.”
So I hid in the guest room, on the floor, between the bed and the wall, where it was dark and cool and quiet. I could hear the boys going through the house, yelling, “Found you, Mommy!” and then laughing when I wasn’t wherever they were looking. Henry would say, “Wait! We need to make a plan! Maybe she’s in her closet!” And Charlie kept saying, “I think she’s GONE!” Eventually, they decided that they needed to put on their bunny ears, so they could hear me. During all of this, they were running past the guest room door, laughing and calling, “Mommy! Mommy? Where are you?” When they finally found me, they piled on top of me, delighted with themselves. “I thought you were GONE!” Charlie shrieked, laughing.
“Where would I go?” I asked.
“Nana and Papa’s!” he said.
“You know I would never leave, right?”
“Right,” Henry said.
I’ve been thinking a lot about going back to work–actually, I’ve been thinking about HAVING work to do, and having TIME to do it. I have all sorts of ideas and projects, and I am working on a few specific things. I’ve actually finished one big thing and sent it off. But mostly, on a day like today, I just wonder if wanting to work is just another form of playing hide-and-seek and hoping for a little rest.
Posted by Susan @ 3:56 pm • Uncategorized
RSS feed for comments on this post.
TrackBack URI
April 17th, 2006 at 5:00 pm, Jenorama Says:
Very nicely written, Miss Susan. A. (I ate this while a child bounced on the side of the couch and ate the right side of my face off.
He is now taking great chunks out of my belly, and forcing me to type with one hand.)
April 17th, 2006 at 5:10 pm, daysgoby Says:
God - your moment with the other Mom? Nailed it.
There is SUCH a difference between 24 hour a day parenting a baby or toddler (who need the minute-by-minute of learning and adjusting to their worlds) than older children, with their own opinions, their own minds and attitudes - I feel that they grow out of the need for having their parents all the time, and benefit as they grow from learning the way other families or other situations work. I don’t think there’s a time limit or certain age, but I think a point comes when we’ve given them great beginnings (roots and wings, as the saying goes!) and they’re ready to be more independent. It’s almost as if our brains tell us that we don’t need to think for them all the time anymore and want to be filled up with other thoughts, other experiences.
And I agree - sometimes the day I spend at work is challenging and chaotic and restful as heck, because I’m thinking on other levels than ‘Where’s the sippy?’ and having the training wheels debate again.
April 17th, 2006 at 5:25 pm, L. Says:
I hate it whenever people say, “YOU`RE the parent!” (or even worse4, “YOU`RE the MOTHER!”) as if that means I`m supposed to be magically in control of everything all the time.
Sometimes I wonder whether I`m doing tghe right thing by being at ahoem now, because I miss working so much that I can`t possibly be fun to be around — am I really doing my kids a favor?
April 17th, 2006 at 7:14 pm, chichimama Says:
You hit the nail on the head. I ran into a friend or a friend at the grocery store today, and as she watched my kids and my interactions with them, she commented, “Life with your children is so different than life with most children, isn’t it? I never really realized before.”
I almost burst into tears and hugged her on the spot. And I barely know her.
I have dreams of returning to work, but can’t imagine anyone other than me being able to handle C on a day to day basis. I think the childcare roulette that we would end up playing would be more nerve-wraking than staying home.
You’re doing a great job. Find a different therapist if you can. We went through three before we found a good fit.
April 17th, 2006 at 7:26 pm, educat Says:
Remember that one lady who read my blog entry on the Mean Girls and commented, “You’re the teacher!”?
You’re the parent is probably the only thing bitchier.
Yeah, you are the parent. So you’re the only one who knows how hard this is sometimes.
April 17th, 2006 at 8:22 pm, mom on a wire Says:
I’m sure you realized this already, but I’d like to point out what an amazing thing Henry did with redirecting HIMSELF when he suggested playing hide and seek. I think it proves that your work with him is really paying off, and that he’s an amazingly smart boy who can grow even when he doesn’t really want to.
April 17th, 2006 at 8:33 pm, ieatcrayonz Says:
Maybe we could experiment and trade off every other week with our careers and families.
Hands off the husbands, though.
April 17th, 2006 at 8:36 pm, CarpeDM Says:
I’m sorry, but that is a horrible thing to say to anyone. You’re the parent? Does that mean you have a magic wand and can wave it to resolve everything you want? Obviously not. And I read that post educat is referring to and had pretty much the same reaction. Why do people constantly have to judge? Drives me nuts.
Can I just say how much I love that they went to get their bunny ears so they could hear you? That is brilliant.
April 17th, 2006 at 11:06 pm, Kristen Says:
I usually think we should get Henry and Bryce together, but I’m afraid they’d enter some mental superhero realm and would never return. He’s been doing the SAME THING lately - and other kids (like kids at the park, at the easter egg hunt we attended Saturday, etc.) don’t know what to make of it. He ends up playing alone or with Quinn as a result. Sigh.
I’m glad Henry came up with Hide and Seek of his own accord - that is great progress right there.
April 18th, 2006 at 7:50 am, Laura Says:
Parents try to do the very best with their kids and when ignorant people make comments it is like someone has come along and pricked your balloon. You are doing a great job with your kids. I had a Henry and a Charlie, and I remember how very difficult those years were. They will get better! Luckily our little people give us those moments of joy to get through it.
April 18th, 2006 at 8:15 am, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
Can I call the speech lady and help her face some facts about her job, one therapist to another?
I would never dream of saying that to a parent–even when I had a kid with autism who was obsessed with the word, “mustard.” All day, that’s all he said. Developing appropriate play and social skills are crucial for any child. You’re supposed to share that kind of information with her, since it can relate directly to the issues she’s working on.
And she can help determine if his superhero preoccupation is part of his diagnosis, or just part of being five(he’s five, right?).
Give me her number. Please.
April 18th, 2006 at 8:18 am, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
BTW, if it’s determined that his social skills need work due to his diagnosis, the speech therapist needs to make a referral to an occupational therapist.
And if I were in OKC, I’d take on to my caseload in a second.
April 18th, 2006 at 8:19 am, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
Assuming he NEEDED OT, that is, I’d take him.
April 18th, 2006 at 11:36 am, Liz Says:
I think you’re right that they need you more when they’re older. They have, maybe, more needs as babies, but they could be filled by a variety of people. As they get older they want more and more of YOU, maybe it reverses after a while so they can get to the point of being teens who want nothing to do with you? I hope it reverses a little bit eventually. My 3 y.o. certainly needs ME more than ever before and more and more of me, not just the breastfeeding or diaper changing but more and different parts of me. It’s exhausting to be so needed.
April 18th, 2006 at 3:30 pm, Mary P. Says:
I think teens need you less often, but more intensely when they do. It feels intense when you’re with your two-year-old, because they are so constant. (The tantrum thing doesn’t help).
Teens can go days without much interaction, then suddenly - BAM! - they have a crisis, and you have to BE THERE, and LISTEN, and SUPPORT, (and not suggest they might be bringing this on themselves, or at least not yet).
And the things teens worry about are much bigger than whether they eat bananas or wear their rain boots or whatever.
Parenting teens isn’t so constant as parenting younger children. You do get times to just be, you do get to reclaim your independence as they demand theirs. (Demand it, as if YOU took independence from THEM, not the other way round… One of the many, many parental ironies.)
April 18th, 2006 at 5:02 pm, Velma Says:
I have had some similar moments with friends of mine, when we’ve gotten together and they’ve been able to experience the full-on 135 mph experience of life at Chez Velma. It’s good to hear, though, because it affirms my feelings that I’m NOT crazy, that my kids really ARE more work sometimes.
I really used to stress out about it when the kids were younger, and I was more of a wreck. I had one friend who had it all together, always perfectly groomed, her house was pulled together, she always had side projects going. Want to know her secret? Her boys slept 12-14 hours a night, along with 2-4 hour naps every afternoon!!! It turned out that both of them had swollen tonsils and adenoids that caused them to have sleep apnea!!! Yeah, well, after their surgeries, I didn’t feel quite so inadequate with my 9-hours-total-at-most non-sleeping toddler, you know?
April 18th, 2006 at 7:16 pm, Susie Says:
Susan, you make me strive to be a better parent. Like you. The therapist can eff* herself.
*I’d type it out, but your blog seems so much more civilized than to type it here.
April 23rd, 2006 at 3:52 am, Lauren Says:
Hi, I’m almost a Speech Pathologist (3 months to go), in Australia… I stumbled randomly upon your blog…
Your Speech Pathologist sounds a bit out of her mind….
And I thought I would recommend a book that improved MY play skills…
Playing, laughing, and learning with children on the autism spectrum : a practical resource of play ideas for parents and carers / Julia Moor (2002).
The book had a lovely approach to why play is important, and ideas for teaching children to play (particularly children with autism, but many of the ideas were also applicable for other kids).
April 23rd, 2006 at 7:47 am, Susan Says:
Bless you, Lauren–and thank you for the book recommendation! I’ll look for it today.