The kind of human being that I am
requires me to spend a great deal of time alone. More so than the
average person. Being a single parent isn't exactly conducive to
this. I'll admit, there's more times than I care to own up to where I
have marooned myself to my bed and governed the family from my
blanket throne. It is my natural inclination to isolate, both as a
person with Aspergers and also as a writer. Some may think that makes
a shitty parent.
My son is 8. He exhibits classic ADHD
symptoms according to all textbook cases. Some may argue that he's
just being a normal little boy. I'm not opposed to either stance, but
knowing what I know in my profession (LMSW by degree) I cannot deny
the former. Either way, my son is Hurricane Gloria and I am mercury
rising.
He is completely unpredictable, and I
thrive on predictability. So how do I manage?
On my better days, days when I have
enough upstairs space to move stuff around, I find ways to teach him
how to do things for himself. Kids like predictability too, even when
they carry category four destruction properties, they feel safer
knowing which direction they are headed. What better way to help
them feel secure than to teach them to care for themselves. Novel
idea? Let's take a look.
Remember the day Sally forgot her
three ring binder on the kitchen table, the one with all her homework
in it? Remember how she called you from school crying about the
trouble she could get into? (nevermind she hadn't bothered to address
the issue with the teacher and negotiate a possible extension, and
why would she, she has you )Remember how you were in the middle of an
important meeting or project and you dropped everything to save her?
My guess is you already know what I'm
going to say. I don't think bailing Sally out makes you a a bad
parent, but I don't think it's making Sally any better of a human
being. In fact, I think it hurts Sally in the long run. Here's why.
Like anything a person becomes
accustomed to, there is always the risk of dependency. When most
people think of dependency they think of things that are bad for our
health, like drugs or alcohol or other addictive habits. If you think
of your kids being dependent on you as a parent as something
completely separate, think again.
Recently, I witnessed a middle aged
man who clearly was suffering from difficulty ambulating around,
perhaps a hip or leg injury. I watched this man struggle to bend over
and tie his 13 year old's shoe. (I'm guessing because he looked like
he was starting to grow a stache) . (Fast forward 20 years. This is
the guy at the office who eats your lunch out of the fridge and when
you ask why he tells you because he was hungry and forgot his. What a
dick.) If you think your decisions as a parent aren't going to affect
the people your child encounters in the future, you are wrong.
It took everything inside me to hold
back from shouting “Tie your own damn shoe!!!”
Listen, if my 13 year old isn't tying
their shoelaces, they are going to be hitting pavement until they get
tired of the scrapes.
I call these kind of parents
“helicopter parents” On top 24/7. I admire their tenacity. And
believe me, I've caught myself comparing my skills to theirs and
questioning my overall ability at being a mom. But the truth is, in a
lot of ways I was one of these kids. I've lived 36 years of my life
unsure if I could count on myself. I love my parents for taking such
good care of me and loving me. I will never blame them for any of my
life decisions or circumstance.
But I do wish I learned earlier how to
care for myself more in certain situations. To cultivate a sense of
pride in my achievements and accomplishments I had conquered on my
own, instead of criticizing myself for not living up to someone
else's standards, including other parents. Having an Aspergers diagnosis, I am learning to
better understand myself and my own behaviors in all different
situations, and one that I feel is of utmost importance is being a
parent.
Looking back on the past 17 years that I
have raised my kids on my own, and been successful despite my own personal circumstance,
I feel pretty certain that we as humans, are resilient, and my kids
will survive despite my alternative processing.
It's like this. My brain is wired
different. I do things that other people see as unconventional. I
don't host playdates. I'm not on the PTA. I wont volunteer as coach.
So what.
I let my kids know what's expected of
them in order to survive in this world, by a universal standard and
by teaching them to set their own expectations of themselves
according to the part they want to play in the grand scheme of
things. There's no one way to be a parent, but there's also no one
way to be a human.
I told Dr Mike yesterday my son makes
me want to hide sometimes. He told me its my job to be present. We
both agreed it's hard to watch your child make a mistake and pick
them up over and over when you can just finish the math problem they
don't understand yourself. But it's all part of the process. My kids
will tie their own shoes, do their own homework and fight their own
battles. They will learn what it means to be able to count on
yourself, hopefully sooner than I did.
I'll always be close by. Learning
presence. Even if it is sometimes from my blanket throne, I'll rest
easy knowing I've taught them the important lesson of surviving on
their own.
I'm no expert on the human condition,
but I do know there's a lot to be learned through quiet observation;
something I like to think I inadvertently have become more
proficient at than the average person. Stay weird.
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