-
Older Entries
- Mother’s Day
- One nation, divisible
- An objective analysis of the dateability of the male Avengers
- Solo parenting, day 3
- Tetris
- Butterfly effect
- Weekend activities
- Perspective
- Basic math
- Things I’ve found while packing
- Le freak, c’est chic
- One step at a time
- WE ARE MOVING HOLY SH-
- Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring BANANA PHONE
- Fresh coat
-
Find me elsewhere
Read my column via Facebook
Daily piffle:
RSS feed
Apr
6
Riley has always been a sensitive sort of kid. Doesn’t like loud noises, seems particularly overwhelmed by pain, is picky about food to the point where it’s really not even remotely funny and/or something I can just make him deal with.
He gets anxious about things, too. Not, say, the looming specter of death, which you’d think would be a creepy thing for a five-year-old to think about yet he’s the one who’s reminded me on more than one occasion that while I like to think our cat just ran away to a Cat Spa of some kind, SHE PROBABLY GOTS DEAD, MOM.
No, he tends to get spun up about potentially negative scenarios, and can’t let them go. Like, he hates balloons because they’re just floating there…full of the the horrible potential to pop. When will it pop, in a loud and startling fashion? No one knows. It might not, after all. But it might.
With very few exceptions, he can’t watch movies all the way through. If the music starts getting dramatic and it seems something even mildly scary is going to happen—I’m talking rated-G scary—he has to leave the room. He can’t stand the suspense.
There are plenty of examples, but essentially, I feel like I can picture what is happening in his mind: the idea of a bad outcome is lodged there, and he can’t find his way around it. It takes over until it’s nearly all he can think about. The foreign food item I’ve placed on his plate is so overwhelming with the probability that it tastes bad, he not only can’t bring himself to try it, he can’t even handle it sitting there.
I imagine he’ll eventually grow out of some of these quirks in the same way he eventually stopped referring to his thumb as a “shum” (oh! I miss the shum!), but of course I have moments when I am worried he will not. I worry (ironically!) that he will spend too much time worrying. That instead of being open to new experiences, he will be mired in What Ifs.
I read a book called Freeing Your Child from Anxiety that had a decent metaphor for anxiety, and I talked with Riley about it. “Can you imagine a dog,” I told him, “That’s living in a house and when someone knocks at the door it just goes crazy, it barks and barks and barks because it’s all freaked out?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Like that dog across the street.” (He’s terrified of that dog.) (It’s a nasty little Chihuahua that I would dearly love to drop kick.)
“Yeah. And the dog is scared because it thinks there’s a bad guy at the door. But guess who’s really there? It’s just a nice mailman, and he’s bringing the mail.”
“Is there a present in the mail?”
“Uh. Well sure. Maybe. Anyway, so you know how you sometimes get worried about stuff, even when Mommy and Daddy say you don’t need to worry? That’s your brain being like that dog. Barking because it’s imagining something bad happening.”
We talked more about the dog and how he could try telling his own dog (his anxiety dog, oh god, I know, you’re like where is this going) to sit when he starts getting spun up.
And you know, it actually sort of works sometimes. Once when we were watching a kids’ show and the music got all dun dun DUNNNN I saw him get up and pace the room a bit, murmuring sit, dog, sit! under his breath.
Sometimes, though, it doesn’t, and he can’t deal, and instead of being patient or even understanding, I snap at him. My own dog is a snarly asshole who thinks shameful things like don’t be such a chicken and goddamn it why don’t you trust me when I tell you there’s nothing to be scared of.
I want to help him to not be held back by fears, but it’s true I also secretly want him to be brave and adventurous and willing to confront that which intimidates him. It can be very difficult to pick apart where that line is between helping a child overcome a challenge, and wanting to…I don’t know, push them into a different personality, like you’re trying to put them into an ill-sized coat.
It seems to me that some of the most difficult things to help your child with are the things you dislike about yourself. Because raising a kid shouldn’t be about getting another chance at your own life, but sometimes, down deep in the unlit areas, it can feel that way.
We want our kids to be happy and we want to help them not have broken places and we ourselves are broken and not always happy and it feels like an impossibly enormous responsibility, this task of shepherding a child into the person they will grow to be. I am not qualified, my dog barks. I am so fucking bad at this! Sit, I say, with no conviction.
Comments
112 Responses to “Bark”
Leave a Reply
-
Stuff I Like:
Regina Spektor's "All the Rowboats".
She's almost unrecognizable in this video, but wow, what a song.
Smashbox brow tech.
Utterly foolproof eyebrow groomer/filler-inner.
Prada Amber.
My favorite perfume: sweet and exotic without being overpowering.
Blinc mascara.
I have tried all the mascaras and this is the very best one. Trust.
My oldest daughter and Riley are almost the same age–I am so relieved to hear that other kids can’t even handle the (not)scary parts in G movies! I mean, Barbie’s Mermaid movie, WTH? You put it perfectly. Again!
Yes, exactly.
You said it perfectly. It is so hard to see things you don’t like about yourself in your child. I have to remind myself often that “he’s not me”. By boy is so sensitive and, duh, so am I. And yet I get angry sometimes even though I know how he feels.
You are so right on about the tension between wanting all good for our kids and wanting them to not carry on our brokenness. Why do you not have a book contract?
My son was a fierce worrier – to the point we took him for therapy, which was really helpful. We didn’t even keep on with the therapy for all that long, but it gave me and my husband a lot of tools for helping our son. One thing that really helped was to remind him that it was OUR job, as the grownups, to keep him safe and to do the worrying – we had it covered. I am still amazed (two years later) when he will try a new food, or go to a friend’s house for the first time, or…. you get the idea.
I love this. I am going to tell my dog to calm down too. It’s only the mailman.
I’m not a parent but had to comment that I think you are a wonderful parent. This was also incredibly well-written. Thank you for that.
Wow. You said that perfectly. I feel the same way with my son but never in a million years could have articulated it that well.
Wow. That was….perfect in a way I needed right this minute. Thank you for saying what I couldn’t, haven’t been able to find words to say.
I love this. You’re wonderful.
Seriously – I felt like I was reading about my kid – thanks for sharing this. I’m going to have to check out that book.
I was very much like Riley as a child, I still am a little bit. Mostly I’ve outgrown it. I think a little bit of fear keeps you out of trouble :)
My brother, on the other hand, feared nothing. There was no danger he would not attempt to concur. He is now a drug addict that lives in my mother’s attic. He’s 35yo.
Fear and worry aren’t all terrible.
Oh my hell! My daughter is seven and she CONSTANTLY makes up scenarios in which BAD THINGS HAPPEN. I have tried a million ways to get her to stop doing that. She says things like, “Mom, what if a plane falls on our house while we are asleep?” I worry about things that have already happened and she worries about things that probably won’t happen.
She also cried so loudly during Diary of a Wimpy Kid when the bullies forced the boy to eat the nasty cheese that I had put her in my lap and let her cry into my chest so that the other people in the theater could hear the movie.
Gah. I love it when you just come out of nowhere with something so powerful it brings tears to my eyes.
I was also a bit of a coward about a lot of things (the dark, being by myself) a little longer than I should’ve been. Maybe until about eleven or twelve? I remember having a book about virtues, and I felt good about my capacity for nailing all of them until it got to a page for bravery, showing a kid in a scared in a big bed, in a dark room, and I remember thinking– “That’s different, I can’t help that.”
One thing that I bet will help a lot with showing Riley how cool it is to be brave is the fact that you and JB are both so capable of trying new things, and fun outdoorsy things that he can be proud of joining you guys in doing. He obviously loves going camping, even though that was once something new and uncertain too.
Hang in there. Hoping Riley will give you a big hug and calm that crazy dog up for a sec.
Oh. Oh, I love this. I don’t even know what else to say.
Really, really lovely post. Thank you for such candid writing.
I too, was a worrier and still carry lots of irrational fear in me. Still hate loud noises and balloons BUT totally blend in to society too… in my own little way.
He’ll be fine. He’ll grow out of it.
Maybe you could let him pop half-inflated balloons outside with lots of background noise going on? Like, give him control over when the balloons pop and have the radio on NPR or something so that his brain has lots of things to listen to. Just three or four balloons a day, each more inflated than the last. Let him do it as a treat for his brother who will (no doubt) LOVE the thrill of popping balloons and LOVE that his brother can make them do it on cue (One! Two! Three!)
As a rule though, he’ll get through it. You’re doing beautifully. So is he.
Again, your words are perfect. Thank you, thank you for this post.
My 4yo is that anxious, terrified kid and it breaks my heart and drives me up the wall all at the same time. She gets so, so worked up about the smallest most ridiculous (to me!) things and sometimes it’s all I can do not to bark “just suck it up!” at her. And yet… my heart shatters when she gets so anxious that it starts to manifest itself physically. The “goddamn it why don’t you trust me when I tell you there’s nothing to be scared of”, rings so true with me.
There are have been so, so many instances in these past 4.5 short years since she was born that I’ve felt ill equipped to help this little girl (and her brother and sister) grow to be confident, happy… and yet she is so, so forgiving.
I am an adult who is like this. I read the ending to a book if it’s getting too intense. I have to watch a thunderstorm so that I can anticipate the thunder. I jump at popping balloons. I overreact to my husband jumping out from the room that I know he’s in. I have never been able to watch a movie with any suspense in it from start to finish (the Movie Spoiler site is my Bible). Tell Riley that grownups have that barking dog, too, but if he tells it to sit and calm down, I will tell mine to sit and calm down as well.
Oh, you have such a wonderful way with words. My son has just turned six and this year has been such an amazing transformation for him. He is an anxious little guy and it breaks my heart to see him so worried about things. Mostly his fears revolve around failing. I have watched him have an actual panic attack over a game that was new to him at a birthday party. Anything that is new and unknown he automatically thinks he will fail or embarass himself and I hate seeing how low his confidence can be. Especially since we work so hard to build him up. This year though, we pushed him to do and try new things. We started with tball, which he was great at and we also pushed him into Karate and that has been the biggest confidence builder yet. Slowly but surely he is becoming more confident in himself and it is wonderful to see. The picky eating is still an issue but he is trying new things weekly. He will probably always be sensitive but I think sensitive boys grow to be wonderful, caring men. You are a wonderful mom and Riley is lucky to have you in his corner.
I’ve been trying to articulate this for four years now, since my son was born. Because shouldn’t I be better at parenting someone who is JUST LIKE ME? Instead I feel horrible and unprepared for it. And you nailed it perfectly, how it feels. Thank you for making me feel less alone. It helps to know that I’m not the only one.
“It seems to me that some of the most difficult things to help your child with are the things you dislike about yourself. Because raising a kid shouldn’t be about getting another chance at your own life, but sometimes, down deep in the unlit areas, it can feel that way.”
- So true. I amazed each time I read your site and you have expressed the exact feelings I have about the ups and downs of raising my children (but could never convey through writing). Thank you for your beautiful words.
Amy
Phenomenal post, Linda.
Thumbs up on this one.
Do you wonder if fear in children is like wisdom teeth? Like something to do with evolution and the saber tooth tiger only there are no more saber tooth tigers (that we know of!) so they have to redirect their fears to things that we see every day and seem very unscary but this fear that bubbles up in them is unstoppable because of the evolutionary process.
Or I am just weird! Either way I hear ya sister and I feel same way on all counts (both about myself and my kids and their fears!)
I agree with Amanda, about how being a fearful child maybe is the early sign of a sensible adult. I was just like Riley, and maybe then some. As an adult I’m risk-averse. I’m not afraid of new experiences or people or places, but I also have a very strong sense of when something is just a BAD IDEA. I’m very stable, emotionally, financially, as a result, I think. I also have a brother who was far more brazen as a child. He’s not a drug addict, but he has struggled with impulse control and has had some truly scary life experiences.
I think your trick of having Riley try to control is fear is great, but even without it, he’ll be fine.
That was so beautifully written. You are an amazing mother…
That’s really great that you can frame his anxiety in terms that he can understand. We do that for our son when he’s bouncing off the freaking walls. We need a ready engine, not a high engine, not a low engine, a ready one.
Oh hey. I have a very anxious 5 year old kid, too. It’s a different type of anxiety than you’re describing here, I think. Less of the startle/physical fears with a great deal of overthinking and worst case scenario stuff. “What if this, then what if that, then what if . . . ” etc. He’s also the most skeptical & stubborn kid you’ll ever meet. A book that’s helped us tremendously is called “What to do when you worry too much.” It’s kind of workbook-ish, and for slightly older kids, but I just read it to my son, and he seems intrigued by it. I have to admit I’ve found it helpful myself.
Wow.
This post really hits home for me, as mother to a sensitive, anxious 4 year old. I read that same book (and a bunch of others) but my girl is a little too young to understand and apply most of the cognitive behavior techniques.
We avoid things that really scare her and approach the smaller ones slowly and carefully. We talk a lot about her “worry brain” and how she can talk back to her worry brain and tell it she’s in charge. We do deep breathing exercises together, which are good for me, too.
And I lie awake at night, worrying about her worrying. I can’t imagine where she gets it from.
I come from a long line of worriers and I just love how you articulated this situation. You are a great parent. Keep it up
Hi there. I first want to say that I think you’re an amazing mom. Truly.
Also, I rarely comment but wanted to say that I’ve been pondering this sort of thing recently. Well, most specifically the part where you describe a tendency to snap at times and lose patience. I recently read a blog post on Honey Rock Dawn in which she describes wondering about why she is so patient with animals and not so much when it comes to humans. She stated it perfectly when she pointed out that in order to work with animanls, particularly anxiety ridden or fearful ones, you have to drop your own ego because animals have no ego. Working with an animal in that state is not about you, not at all. And often, when one finds themself getting frustrated, it is becuase the interaction or whatever happening means something about them, personally. Ex: why doesn’t this dog like me? I believe the same happens with humans.
Maybe this doesn’t make sense, and I certainly hope it isn’t offensive. But I wonder, and you sort of touch on it at the end there, if your lack of patience (only sometimes, I know) is more about your need for Riley to be doing or responding differently. I’m thinking particularly of the trust comment. I wonder if it would be different, or your reaction would be different, if you could focus on him and remind your own dog that the guy at the door isn’t knocking for you at all.
This is rambly and I’m not sure if it makes sense at all. But truly, Linda, you’re an amazing mom. I love your candor and your writing. Best to you all.
I have the another-chance-at-my-own-life issue with my daughter, who is very much my mini-me, including in many of the ways that caused me to be shunned by my peers. And since I look at that part of my own life with so much pain, and spent SO MANY YEARS thinking about what I wished I had done differently, it’s the most natural thing in the world to try to cajole my daughter into being normal in the way I wish I had been normal. And that is so wrong, in so many ways.
Regarding the anxiety… I have a boy who was (and is, to a degree) the same kind of overthinker. If there was a possible bad outcome to a scenario he was facing, he would focus on it to the exclusion of all else. It was difficult. He was eight years old before he went to a friend’s house and stayed without me there… for ONE HOUR. He could not enjoy any event if it happened in a crowd of people. At eleven he would completely fall apart if he had to call someone on the phone. He *still* (he will be 15 this month) has to have a detailed plan of if-this-then-that any time I am going to leave him to his own devices in the house for two hours while I’m on the way to school and his dad is on his way home from work. But as hard as it is to work through all this stuff, as he’s grown up and (we’ve all) learned to handle and direct this kind of thinking, it’s turned out to be an asset. If you want something figured out, he is your guy. If you want a project completed exactly the way it needs to be, ditto. As he’s matured he’s learned to channel that fierce ability to see all possible ends of a situation and use it to his advantage (in ways that make him so completely different from his happy-go-lucky-hey-whatever mother that it’s hard to believe he’s my child).
So… there’s hope. You’re absolutely not terrible at this or unqualified. You’re just learning as you go like all the rest of us. Sit, dog. Sit.
As a parent of a timid child, this post resonated with me so much. I always wonder if it’s something I’ve done, some huge parental failure I’ve made along the way. But it’s just how he is. And while I think it makes him sensitive and at times, closer to me, I’m like you. I want him to be brave and enjoy all the things children are supposed to enjoy. Thanks for the reminder (and advice) to be more patient.
I haven’t even read any of the other comments. I literally raced to the end of this so I could tell you how awesome you are for 1) recognizing it and 2) finding out more about it and 3) Trying to fix it.
I was Riley when I was a little girl. At night I would wait until everyone was asleep and go around the house unplugging everything because I was terrified there would be a fire.
I was so scared my younger sister would choke that at night when she was asleep I would stick my finger in her mouth to make sure she wasn’t chewing gum. I wouldn’t even let her sleep on her hands because I though she would get a blood clot and die.
While those stories are hysterical now, at the time, it was horrible. My mom just tried to reassure me that she was in control and nothing would ever happen.
Once we were under a tornado warning and I turned to my Mom and said ‘Mom is it going to get us?’ and she said ‘Tammy, it wouldn’t dare’. My mom AKA ‘tornado slayer’..lol.
All of this to say, I grew up with excessive anxiety and am only just now trying to deal with it.
I think the Dog analogy is absolutely brilliant. And speaking as someone who went through this, I think it will work. If he can learn to disconnect the experience/disaster connection now, he won’t have to deal with worrying excessively later.
I am just so relieved. My oldest (8) is afraid of weather of any kind. If its windy she has to sleep in our room (on the floor, stay outta my bed), and she’s even afraid of weather lessons at school, on perfectly sunny days. The possibility of weather is enough to send her into a panic. Gusts of wind = tornado, pouring rain = hail..she jumps to conclusions immediately. I’ve finally figured out that I need to just accept her irrational fear right now. She’s not the only one that has them, and in time, she’ll out grow them (or trade them for a more adult version). I’m glad it’s not just me.
This is such a great post. Parenting can be such a landmine and trying to make sure your own hang ups aren’t pushed upon your kids is one of the things I find the most difficult.
Linda, I love you. Thank you for this post.
My school psychologist friend recognized that I needed help with my anxiety issues and recommended a book she uses with elementary kids. It helped me (a woman in my 30’s) a lot, so I thought I’d pass along the title in case it could help your family.
It is called “What to do when you worry too much” the author’s last name is Huebner.
Oh how I love this. From the idea of an anxiety dog to the balloon filled with the potential to pop to the desire to shove someone into another personality… Oh this is wonderfully put and resonates so deeply with so many aspects of my life.
Love this, truly.
This hits home for me (particularly the feelings of frustration) because my son is so bold in areas that I sucked at as a kid (socially he is so extroverted I wonder where in the hell he came from) and so conservative in areas I was bold in (he would NOT put his head under water in the pool until he was 5 and refuses to try skiing etc). I feel myself getting so frustrated with him for not being physically adventurous and then I hate that I’m not able to be ok with that facet of his personality sometimes. On the other hand, I’m also saddened by the fact that now that he’s in second grade, I can almost see him learning to camoflage (sp?) himself among his peers and pretend he’s physically bold because that’s what they expect. The result is things like he refused to go to a good friend’s birthday party this year because it was a rock climbing party and he just won’t even try that. I have no point here other than I totally get the frustration you talk about with both my son and myself. Ugh.
When my older son was 3 he developed a huge and all-consuming fear of escalators…right before I had to negotiate a trip to Florida with him and his (heavy) 8 month old brother. Alone, with two lay-overs. No escalators. No moving sidewalks. Just me gritting my teeth and begging him to please don’t make mommy walk or carry them both through the entirety of the Dallas airport. ONE WEEK LATER, when Daddy made the return trip with us, he was magically cured. However, he’s almost 14 and he still won’t let me near him with a band-aid. Weirdness prevails.
Things like this are another reason I don’t want kids. However, it’s fascinating to read about other people’s kids. Thanks for sharing your story.
I only have a 20-month-old, but we’re now dealing with the issue of her not being afraid of anything, which is its own level of anxiety for me. She is liable to hold anyone’s hand at the park, walk off in a crowd, or lick whatever piece of garbage off the public bathroom floor. In many ways, this is awesome. However, she’s just like me in that she doesn’t see how it is any business of her mother’s what she is doing at any given time. Maddening when she’ll be an adult, but terrifying as she is only a toddler.
On the other hand, I already use her as my own Sit, Dog. If I bark commands at her, she usually is startled into obeying without thinking first. Keeps her out of traffic.
Your trials in parenthood always remind me that the issues my friends and I are going through are the more simple ones. Parenting anxiety issues, bullying, sexuality, or even existential conundrums are still pretty far for most of us with just one young toddler. Perspective is nice when I’m being given the stink-eye for giving my child a non-organic cheese stick.
Oh, yes. Exactly.
My heart aches thinking about him taming an anxiety dog. It’s so rotten not being able to just insist that it’s ALL OK DAMMIT. It’s so crazy talking a kid into trying cake. Like shouldn’t I be trying to stop you from eating this? Why does cake have to be a Teaching Moment?
One piece of assvice: it couldn’t hurt to take him to a psycologist. If it’s a normal phase you can get more info from a pro on how to help Riley. If Riley is anxious enough that he’s missing out on good stuff, he can learn extra coping skills to help him deal. Better to go and not need it than to wait and be kicking yourself later for not having gotten help early.
Linda-
I loved your honesty… but I have to tell you… I have a 7 1/2 year old with very similar qualities (sensitive to pain and loud noise, VERY picky eater, etc…). When he was 2, I took him to an occupational therapist who diagnosed him with a (mild) sensory deficit disorder. So, it wasn’t just anxiety. There is a lot of info online and also a few books about it… my son still has some sensory issues to this day but mostly he has worked through them. He is a total normal kid! But, it was good for me to learn about sensory issues just so I could understand him better. Now, when he complains about the tag in his shirt bothering him, I know he isn’t just being a huge wimp or pain in the ass… I know it feels different to him than it does to me. We are still working on the picky eating… I don’t give him excuses or let him get away with anything his younger brother wouldn’t get away with. I hope this is helpful to you!! Love your blog!
I have a sensitive one too. I always feel so bad when I tell her to get a grip, it’s no big deal. I suppose I just don’t want her to deal with the anxiety I deal with. To be free of the barking dog.
My sister is wanting to figure out some ways to help my niece with anxiety. Do you recommend the book you read?
Lovely and amazing, and as always, so beautifully well written that I get a lump in my throat.
“trying to put them in an ill-sized coat.” Yes. I struggle with trying to guide them through the challenges and knowing when to back down and let them be their own person, quirks and all.
Well said. Although my little one is just a toddler, I already see the areas in which I’m trying to keep her from being broken in the same places as me. It’s so, so hard to navigate those areas and let her be herself. But I think you’re doing a wonderful job.
Ill-fitting coat is right. It’s something I struggle with too as a mother. My son has several of my least enjoyable quirks and I struggle, as my mom did while raising me, to help him get past them without losing my mind. The only thing that keeps me sane is that I remember exactly what it was like to be in his shoes and it helps me figure out what I would have wanted. When I had trouble sleeping as a kid, I wanted someone to comfort me, let me sleep with them, etc. So when son wakes up and needs me, I go.
Man oh man, my inner dog is a snarly asshole too!!! I am currently reading the book you mention in the (vain?) hope that I can get my 8-yr old son back into his room at night. He’s been sleeping in a sleeping bag on my side of the bed since mid-December. He is terrified of being alone in the house, won’t even go upstairs by himself. Just started recently. Otherwise totally normal and imagines himself as a tough ninja-in-training. I told him, ninjas don’t sleep with mom and dad! Was not a powerful enough argument to get him out!
This is so fantastically thought-through, it made me stop dead in my tracks. You know, I snap worst at my children when I fear they’re doing whatever-it-is as a result of my failure as a parent. I hate that part of me.
You have really helped me out here. It’s instant clarity on something that should have been clear long ago. But thank you.
“We want our kids to be happy and we want to help them not have broken places and we ourselves are broken and not always happy and it feels like an impossibly enormous responsibility, this task of shepherding a child into the person they will grow to be.”
Thanks, Linda. I’m crying now. But, really – thank you.
Love this post! A book that really helped me was The Highly Sensitive Child – my 9 year old fits this description to a T and after reading it, I realized I do too. There’s a checklist of sensitive traits – she has most of them and I do too, just some different ones than she does.
We are just in the past year watching some movies that most kids watched 5 years earlier. While watching Star Wars, Episode 1, she was sobbing when Anakin would maybe never see his mom again – and her slightly younger, non-sensitive sister says “is this a sad part?” Totally different kids!
ditto on the Highly Sensitive Child….
AND
my sister has found the following book very very helpful with her 5 year old….
http://www.amazon.com/What-When-You-Worry-Much/dp/1591473144
I have many thoughts about this. I think sometimes I get freaked out about my kids and how they are because I think they are ALWAYS going to be like that. I think OMG how are they ever going to get a job, or have a girlfriend, or go to college, or whatever? Will they be picked on? Beat up? I can’t take it if they will be beat up! But then I try and think about every person that I know that I knew when they were kids and I think about how at one point, they were all SUPER obsessed with something, like animals or bad weather, and now they are all fine, like FINE.
The dog thing makes me think of the Under Toad in The World According to Garp. It’s an excellent start, maybe Riley will start to find his own ways to work with his anxiety, now that you’ve given him an example of what might make him feel better.
My last thought is that I think instead of telling your own personal dog to “sit” or “shut up”, that maybe it would work better to tell the dog “not now, I’ll get back to you later” and then just fuck that dog – leave him hanging. :)
My son is 5 (nearly 6) and is VERY similar…. right now he is fixated on weather, I mean he cant even be happy its getting warmer because “Mom its SPRING and you know what happens in spring MOM……TORNADOS!” I worry because he is so much like me, and I struggled with anxiety and I don’t want him to, but I Sure dont know the answer…..
Amazingly put, again. My 3 1/2 year old is the same way and I struggle with the same parenting insecurities!!! So glad, after reading your post, and the other comments, that I am not alone with a “worry-full” child!
I just want to hug him so hard.
Jack was very much this way — still is, to a small degree. We couldn’t drive anywhere (and I mean, LITERALLY, every time we got in the car) without him warning us that we could all die in a car accident.
His mother is allergic to blueberries and it was YEARS before I could have them in the house without him freaking out about killing her.
But the good news is that he’s relaxed a bit. He knows the bad is still out there, but I like to think he looks at his now-old-ten-year-self and think, “Man, I’ve made it this far. Might make it yet.”
Can I get an AMEN?
My five year old son = very similar anxiety/ somewhat timid nature.
Teaching him to swim is taking roughly forever and every ounce of patience I have(and we’re nowhere in the vicinity of anything resembling swimming).
TODAY I hit the damn alarm button on my key fob and the car started to honk. After sobbing hysterically for a few minutes longer than you’d think it warranted… he’s decided we must sell the car because WHAT IF THAT EVER HAPPENS AGAIN???
Would you like to hear about the night our smoke detectors (all of the little interconnected bastards) went off intermittently from 8 pm to midnight? NO YOU WOULD NOT. He made me tell him the smoke detector would not go off every night for a year.
Oh and hello summer and my 2 favorite fears which also manifest in the form of recurring nightmares in addition to the actual experience… bees and thunderstorms.
Ditto with you on the movies – this one has gotten a bit better recently, but still, we aren’t hitting any movie theaters.
In the end, I’m with you, this is part of his personality… I try to talk him through it. And sometimes, like at 3 AM on Tuesday morning, I snap at him (Fisher! There are no thunderstorms in Vermont when it’s still cold. Go. To. Sleep.)
Also… he totally gets this from me. Goddammitalltohell.
Yes! My three-year-old has a lot of anxiety. Loud noises, overwhelming social situations, unknown situations, scary music or anticipation of frightening scenes in movies, etc. I get SO impatient and frustrated with her. But I’m exactly the same way. However, I want her to be better than me, more than me. I don’t want her to know the anxiety that wakes me in the middle of the night, my heart pounding in my ears. It’s a fine line between not making her feel ashamed of how her mind and body react to her world and teaching her how to overcome the anxiety. Sadly, this is something I still struggle with on a daily basis. Hopefully we can help each other.
Thank you for this beautiful post. My 7 year old son struggles with anxiety as well. After seeking support, we made the terribly difficult decision to begin medication. He’s doing much better and our life is much calmer. Do I feel good about it? Hell, no. Nobody wants to use medication. But does he feel better? Hell, yes and that is more important.
Linda, the fact that you are aware that the things that bother you about Riley’s personality are really parts of your own personality that you might wish you could change makes you make you a wonderful parent. I feel the same way about some of my daughter’s quirks and have to work so hard to remind myself to just let her be herself. But you know, it’s kind of worked in a positive way for me. She has these quirks at 2 years old. Doesn’t really seem like enough time for me to have “made” her this way, so I know it’s just her innate personality. Knowing that somehow makes me feel better about my own quirks–there’s not something wrong with me–it’s just my personality. I may not like everything about it, but I cut myself some slack just knowing that’s how I am.
My oldest son went through an anxious phase at 5. He just started kindergarten and we had just had a baby so I didn’t know if that had anything to do with it. He was terrified to walk in parking lots because of the cars driving around. At the park if he lost sight of me for a second he would scream. He cried everyday at kindergarten drop off and refused to go outside for recess with the class. One day the school had a furnace burn out and it set off the fire alarm. He completely shut down, refused to walk and was just screaming. Luckily he went to the school that my mom worked at and so they were able to get my mom to help with him. We even went so far as to take him to a counselor. I don’t know how much good they did. He had about six sessions and by the end of the school year he had seemed to adjust finally. I think now he might have just outgrown it. He is now a happy a bright ten year old. Not overly anxious at all now.
“We want our kids to be happy and we want to help them not have broken places and we ourselves are broken and not always happy and it feels like an impossibly enormous responsibility, this task of shepherding a child into the person they will grow to be.”
Oh Linda…. this is SO true for me today. For different reasons than your own, but I am struggling with that same task.
I really needed this tonight. My own 4-year old is socially sensitive- to the point where looking at him sternly can bring him to tears. Unfortunately his best friend has figured this out and has enjoyed the power of making my son cry all week at school. I am in the position of trying to teach him how to cope with this- and I alternate between “my poor little bugaboo” and “snap the fuck out of it, dude.” Neither tactic works, hello.
So tonight I talked to him about ducks and how they are so handy in the water that it just rolls off their backs. I told him to say “quack quack” to his friend next time he gets pushed to his limit, and envision the mean words, mean looks just rolling off of him like water. We’ll see if it works. He may need therapy for my “help” later.
Thank you for writing this. My 5 year old daughter is a worrier and socially very very sensitive. On the plus side, she no longer screams at gloves, hairdryers, vacuum cleaners or lawnmowers, so I guess we’ve come a long way. Our first trip to the movies to see Tangled ended with screams and nightmares, while my 3 year old barely blinked. She shakes physically when she doesn’t know what will happen in a book or movie or situation. She freaks out if things don’t go according to plan. I worry so much for her in K next year, with her friends who are not sensitive and not hyperaware of everything that could or has gone wrong, ever. But mainly I worry about how can I help her when I’m 36 and I don’t know yet how I can help me. She sees me crying at a stupid advert on tearing up when we talk about growing up- how can I get frustrated for her for being sensitive? Apple, tree, oh look you’ve fallen right next to each other.
Cam is the same way – we have one video where a lion roars loudly (wait, I’m sorry, the lion in this video actually only YAWNS, but does he believe me? no way), and it totally tripped him out, and after telling me about 50 times, “The lion was LOUD mama!”, he now insists we skip that part every single time. And we have some videos of him (he loves to watch himself) where he falls down or falls off a chair – and when it gets to that part, he has to leave the room for a second. And the one song at library story-time where the alligator goes SNAP!, has pretty much prevented us from going back there for more story-times. And let’s not mention the haircut. And going to the doctor now, is pure torture – no physical exams by a stranger thank you very much. And the list goes on. I have thus far attributed it to him being and ‘extra-sensitive’ boy and normal for this age and the fact that he inherited some of my shyness. We’ll see how we progress over the years. Glad you’re doing it first so I can pick your brain down the line!
Great post.
I saw a few similar comments but I wanted to add my encouragement as well for a possible visit to a therapist. When I had to talk to someone about my daughter’s problem, I was surprised to see that I got so much out of it- lots of techniques and advice and just general encouragement about how it should play out in a positive way. I felt great about making the decision to go, even though it was probably less than 8 meetings over 3 months. My daughter also reacted to the therapist differently than she would respond to me in the exact same situations. She seemed to really listen to the therapist and trust her, which helped calm some of her worries.
Good luck. It definitely is something that kids grow out of, but I know how hard it is to watch your kid struggling.
I have an 8 year old that’s the same – still can’t get through Nemo! My sister suggested he put his hands over his ears in the scary parts – works wonders!
Cheers
Shann
Your writing is so beautiful and raw and honest.
I have an anxious kid too and have had so many of the same thoughts and feelings. You put it into words perfectly.
Thanks!
Oh man, we have the same thing going on. I feel so ashamed for telling my son he’s a pansy because he’s worried about so many pointless things. I am glad you wrote this post; the metaphors really got to me. :)
“Because raising a kid shouldn’t be about getting another chance at your own life, but sometimes, down deep in the unlit areas, it can feel that way.”
Yes, indeed.
See, this is why I read this blog. You put voice to what so many of us are dealing with but maybe don’t have the guts to admit. Thanks again for being so spot on…
You just described me, and you also described my 11 year old son. I too (even at 35 years old) have to leave the room when suspense music happens. In fact, one of my most vivid memories is hiding behind the couch when Little House on the Prairie was on, because Laura did something bad, and Pa was going to have to lick her. (beat, not, um…gross, never mind).
So. Coping strategies. In some ways, I learned to just live with the crazy brain, and acknowledge that I have a higher need for security than other people. With my son, it was preventing him from doing fun things like ride a bike, etc. This sounds terrible, but I have learned that when he balks at something scary, I push him until he cries, then leave him be and let him sort it out. It sounds much worse when I type it out, but it’s kind of a tough love thing. I dunno. Shutting up now.
L — I was an anxious kid. I also hate balloons. I hate Champagne bottles (opening) for the same reason. I was (and am) very sensitive about all kinds of stuff — animal shows on TV, movies (walked out of many a movie in my time), real life situations. My parents always sheltered me from bad stuff — and I’m glad they did. At 51 I’ve learned there are things in life that are ugly and terrible, and I can deal with it, but I don’t *have* to be insensitive to it. I think Riley is a great youngster – I’ve enjoyed “watching” him grow up through your marvelous blog. He will be fine, and you are a fine parent. Look at all the people who read you and learn from you. Keep writing… and keep parenting. You are an awesome Mom.
Oh, your post resonates with me so much…I have two daughters, one aged 4.5 and the other 21 months. I love them both to death, but I get so frustrated sometimes because my older one is shy and timid (not pathologically so, just about one standard deviation below the norm). She is so shy she even takes time to warm up to her preschool teacher each day, whom she likes and whom she has seen five days a week for the past year. I finally told her that she needed to respond somehow when people greet her (instead of hiding her face against my leg), because it was rude not to, so now we compromise and she waves hello, silently.
My younger daughter, on the other hand, casually calls out “Hi!” to everyone we pass on the street.
I am much more like my younger one in this particular regard (my older one got her dad’s genes here), and I get SO ANNOYED by her constant clinginess and timidity around people. (Also by the picky-eater thing, although Thank God she is FINALLY starting to eat some vegetables without it becoming an Epic Battle each night). I try not to let my annoyance show because, I mean, God, I KNOW she is not doing it on purpose, and she has so many other beautiful, wonderful traits. But, even when I’m not showing it, I feel guilty for wishing so fervently that she was different in this respect, and I feel ashamed that I like my younger one more in this one way.
Part of the slimy underbelly of parenting, I suppose…
My son is 6.5 and is the same way, always has been. Except his fear of helium-filled balloons is what if it gets away and floats up up up OMG! I have that same book, too!
And you know, he has outgrown a lot of the anxiety, especially in the last year. But I know he will probably always be extra sensitive, to an extent. And that’s okay. I realize as I watch my son that I was much the same way as a child–scared of loud noises, scared of being overwhelmed, having things out of my control, etc. And I think building confidence in myself over the years was the key, and the support of my parents not pushing me to do what I didn’t want to do.
Also wanted to say that we got my son “Is a Worry Worrying You” and he really likes it. http://www.amazon.com/Worry-Worrying-You-Ferida-Wolff/dp/1933718056/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1302196024&sr=1-1
What an awesome post. I like the dog analogy, and think it’s awesome that it works sometimes. Nothing works all the time, so give yourself a break.
I’ll share my parenting worry with you. My daughter is 3 and she is pretty high-strung: not anxious, but when she doesn’t get what she wants (or it doesn’t happen fast enough), WOE! Collapsing weeping sobbing wailing fits of drama that sometimes last wayyyy too long. My rule is that before we discuss anything, we both need to be calm. Sometimes, I’m patient enough to help her calm down. Then I worry that I’m rewarding her tantrums with positive attention. Other times, I insist she go to her room until she can calm herself down. Then I worry I’m teaching her that emotions are private, some thing to be ashamed of.
Yeah, parenting is a mindfuck. Hang in, I think you’re doing a great job.
I was totally at the mercy of my fears as a kid (and mostly now as a grownup I’ve gotten a hold of it) but I remember my mom telling me I had a choice of how to act and react when I was young and me feeling like there was no way I possibly could choose in that situation. I think one thing that might have helped me back then was doing a practice with my mom, like sitting down and breathing with my eyes closed, calming down so I could reapproach the thing, whatever it was. It might not have made me able to totally deal with it, but I think it would’ve been a good practice to get into, something that I’ve later learned and has been of great effect.
Anyway, just a thought. You’re doing just fine.
Incredible post…again. You have such a clarity in how you describe what we are all in the middle of. Thank you.
My daughter is also an anxious soul. When she was 2 1/2 (she’s four now) she was having panic attacks, and it scared us. Our family is riddled with anxiety issues. We saw a child psychologist, and he was very helpful in explaining where it comes from in the brain, and tips and tactics we could use to help. We never brought her to meet him, but our description of her was enough to give us some great coping options. And to give us reassurance that how we had been handling it was appropriate.
oh my god. yes. just yes. thank you for (once again) putting my feelings into words for me perfectly.
my cousin’s wife is apparently terrified of balloons and she’s 40. but it just strikes me as something that everyone around her has indulged for, well, 40 years. at some point, work through that shit, won’tcha? I mean, we all have fears, but if she’s so terrified of *balloons* that she has to avoid every single event/location that might have them, maybe it’s time to deal with that issue rather than amplifying it? I wonder what would have happened if it had been been addressed in the way you’re doing with Riley. A better outcome, I suspect.
You have just described my relationship with my own son, who is now 13. I have that book, too, as well as several others about anxious children. He was the same way as your son at that age, and while he has gotten somewhat better with his anxiety, he is very much that same little boy that is so sensitive it sometimes breaks my heart and sends my own worries about his future into overdrive. We just finished four weeks of once-weekly sessions with a child psychologist. While I tried to follow the self-help books and do by best to figure him out and change his thinking, I realized it was best left to someone other than myself. CBT is a wonderful thing, I only wish we had done it sooner.
I have something that might help, though maybe Riley is a little young for this approach.
I had a time in my life when I was living on soft money and my relationship was going off the rails. During this time, my temper was somewhat unmanageable; I bought a book on anger management, and reading about the normality of anger (everyone has things that make them angry, you are not alone, etc.) and the *usefulness* of anger (helps you recognize when someone is taking advantage of you) really helped me. There were also bits about recognizing triggers (and saying to yourself, “this thing usually makes me angry”) which then allows you to consciously interrupt your reaction; also, learning to analyze why you were getting angry, and then to channel your anger into constructive ways to deal with what was causing the anger in the first place. These strategies gave me back some control, when uncontrollable circumstances in my life were bringing me down.
It seems to me that some of these strategies might work with anxiety/fear. Fear is useful, keeps you from getting hurt, so it is normal and useful to feel fear. Also, there might be particular triggers, which it would be useful to recognize consciously, and then when he’s experiencing them, he can say to himself, “yeah, that’s that balloon thing again, I’ve felt this before.” Merely acknowledging it lessens its impact on you.
He sounds like a really sensitive little guy, awww.
I can’t thank you enough for posting this. Any honest parenting post is always appreciated, especially since my boys are very close in age to yours. You’re not alone, that’s for damn sure. Parenting seems so simple, yet so mindeffing complicated at the same time.
Yeah, “dearly love” to drop kick a small dog.
You are simply bad at life. You should not only not be a parent; you should not be allowed to exist.
Well, so unlike Anonymous above me, I thought this post was dead on. I nodded all the way through. Amen, sistah. I know precisely how you feel.
I recommend this book “Trauma-Proofing Your Kid” out: http://www.randomhouse.com/book/100542/trauma-proofing-your-kids-by-peter-a-levine-and-maggie-kline/9781556436994
The general idea is that trauma is inevitable and even seemingly trivial events like falling out of a crib or an operation can traumatize a child and then they begin to show all the symptoms you are seeing in your little guy. I’m reading this book now and I can see that it will really come in handy for handling future events. My son is 3 and he also has many of the traits you describe so I am going to try some role playing for a couple of past events that may have played a role and see if he reacts.
I’m actually doing similar “Somatic Experience” therapy for myself based on Peter Levine’s teaching and it is helping me tremendously in releasing the “charge” from past traumatic events in my life and teaching me to ground on a daily basis which is exactly what they recommend for our children. It totally works. Hope this helps.
What is it about parents that we are always looking for our kids to grow up faster? It’s like the knee-jerk reaction to push them. There has to be some sort of evolutionary reason for it, I mean beyond not wanting a 30 year old son living in my basement, because we all seem to have to calm ourselves down and remind ourselves that they’re just kids. I wish THAT was the knee-jerk response. Maybe I’ll just work on conditioning that response in myself… but he better not still be living at home at 30.
Hey Anonymous? I mean, “Sugar” from the San Mateo County Office of Education? Your shitty comments come with an IP trail.
OH SNAP.
I heart you Linda!
[[Hey Anonymous? I mean, “Sugar” from the San Mateo County Office of Education? Your shitty comments come with an IP trail.]]
The perceived anonymous nature of the internet gives sad bullies the safety required to say such things. Telling someone they should not be allowed to exist? That’s just mean. Rule #1 of the internet: If you wouldn’t say it to someone’s face, it shouldn’t be said. Anonymous or not.
I think the difficulty with anxiety is that it’s often hard to put your finger on exactly what it is that’s bothering you. And I imagine that it would be even harder for a 5-year-old. You can see that the situation is overwhelming for him, but I wonder if he himself fully understands what he’s feeling. It may be that this is something Riley will have to deal with his entire life – I certainly hope not, but it’s a possibility. At the very least, if you can help give him coping strategies at this young age, just like you have with the dog analogy (which is GENIUS, by the way), then he’ll hopefully be better able to deal with it as he gets older.
I have 4 children, now grown, 2 of whom suffered tremendous anxiety, and I have been that way most of my life.
It’s sounds like you are taking the right steps to help Riley conquer his fears.
I think that in a child(or an adult), lack of control over aspects of your life manifests itself in anxiety and worry.
The more control you cede to Riley over issues like food, clothing, bedtime – the less anxious he will be. Of course, choice can be manufactured (would you like to wear the blue shirt or the red shirt), but as he gets older he will trust that he has the power to control his environment.
Bet San Mateo County of Education would love to know they have a complete asshole wasting time and taxpayer money. Sugar can fuck off and die in a fire.
*snicker*
I am an adult (by most standards perfectly normal) and I have a LOT of trouble handling suspense in movies/tv shows. Truly bad things are fine (e.g. CSI franchises) but suspense is HARD.
Knowing the ending helps (having someone who can reassure me that things end well means I can usually sit through a suspenseful scene more easily). Through exposure and repetition, I have also learnt that bad scenes usually end well somehow – but sitting through the suspense is still hard.
Lots of love for you & Riley. Good luck! I’m not sure there’s a magic bullet, but I hope you find something that works for you.
What a beautiful post!
The part where Riley whispered “sit, dog, sit” while pacing may have broken my heart. As they say here in the south..bless his heart!
As always, fabulous writing, and an awesome serving of the truth so many other parents take comfort in reading.
Bonus that you called out an asshole in the comments section.
This was a beautiful post. Thank you somuch for sharing!
I was so moved reading all of the beautiful comments people shared, and how much they related to you and were relieved that they weren’t the only ones in that situation. I was disappointed, however, to see that of all the 100 or so comments you decided to answer to the one negative one in the bunch. Don’t give people like that any power by responding. People will always criticize but there is no need to internalize that crap!
I’ve been spelling dun dun dunn wrong all these years? I’ll be happy if they grow up to be happy LAW ABIDING citizens.
AMEN to Christie and Sunny above! ‘Anonymous’, how about a steaming hot cup of shut the fuck up?!
Linda, you know I have an internet fangirl-crush on you that is really only semi-creepy, right? THIS post is why. It’s *so* difficult to not pass on our own damage to our kids. I didn’t realize until I became a parent, that the little shits have their own personalities that can totally screw up and complicate best layed plans. WHY isn’t that in the manual?
My kiddo has severe sensory issues that require the help of an occupational therapist to navigate. I don’t know the right answer, but I recognize in your writing that you’re headed in the right direction. I think you’re a phenomenal parent. Thank you for your candor.
This post is absolutely amazing. It made me cry, it’s so true. You’re a fantastic parent – regardless of your dog – and you make a lot of people feel a lot better about their own broken bits. Thank you.
Just saw a review of this book, “Is a worry worrying you?” and thought of you. Maybe worth a look at the library?
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1933718056/ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=livinpeacewit-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1933718056
Ah, this is one of my favourite entries ever. First I really like how you dealt with it with Riley, that’s good advice for my future if I have kids :) Second, I can totally relate to the last paragraph.
I would also recommend Is A Worry Worrying You and also the book Courage (can’t remember the author) My oldest who is now 9 is very much like Riley. My youngest seems to be able to go with the flow and somehow I just see him as being OK with whatever comes his way. But Ian I worry about. I got the book you mentioned because I saw it on your site one day and I am very thankful that you shared it. I haven’t had the “sit dog, sit” experience yet, but I also found one called Taking the Grrr Out of Anger and can often hear Ian whisper Grrrr and then tell me he needs a few minutes to himself. (His response to being scared and unsure is to get angry)
The scary thing….I see a lot of me in him and I want to protect him from some of the crappy decisions I made. But he is who is and all we can do as parents is what you’re doing now. Reading, learning, trying!! You are an awesome parent and an awesome person (and I would like to drop kick Sugar and her piss poor attitude….she’s just jealous because she will never be as fabuolous as you are!)
I knew it. I knew my concerns about my daughter’s anxiety weren’t unfounded. Our regular pediatrician wasn’t available at our last well baby check up, and the new guy practically scoffed.
My daughter has this irrational fear of bugs. I say irrational, because she SCREAMS and cries and tried to climb back in to my uterus when she sees a gnat, or an ant. (Cue us moving to VA from Seattle area, and seriously, Cicadas shed their exoskeletons every where here.)
The pediatrician told me that because I “perceive it as anxiety, doesn’t mean it is anxiety” and that “parents are quick to put adult labels on their child’s feelings when it may just be a phase.” I wanted to pay Chuck Norris to round house kick him in the jimmy.
My daughter is terrified of bugs, but little else. I always liked to say she was born “concerned” because she had this look on her face from day one, like “I know you have NO IDEA what you are doing. The jig is up lady.”
I really needed to read this, I’ve definitely been to the “GOOD LORD WHY CAN’T YOU JUST RELAX!?” place. It’s even better when a parent (mine, someone else’s a friend) says “Oh, she just needs to get over it.” Oh really! That’s all? Thanks for the unwelcome advice a-hole.
So, what I’m really trying to say is. Thank you. I took the long way around, but I guess that’s why there isn’t a character limit on this thing!